“Did you hear that the necklace that was stolen from me showed up last night?” I asked.

“No—did it? That’s a stroke of luck, isn’t it?”

“Only it was a forgery. A clever duplicate. And it appears that one of your father’s paintings has been substituted with a forgery.” I watched his face as I said this. He was, after all, the only person who helped me up and then slipped out of the room before the police searched everyone at the casino. But did he have the skill or the contacts to create a perfect replica of the necklace so quickly? And as for the painting . . .

Bobby grinned. “I can tell what you’re thinking. But I’d hardly be likely to steal one of my father’s paintings, would I? Especially since I’ve now inherited the whole bally lot.” He picked up a bag he’d left in the foyer. “I don’t know why you suspect me of anything,” he said, looking back over his shoulder as he made his way down the hall. “I’m a perfectly nice chap, actually.”

Chapter 31

Chapter 31

January 28, 1933

We made our way back up the drive again, leaving Lafite with the Gropers.

“So that painting really was a forgery?” Vera asked. “You didn’t just say that?”

“No. I’ve actually had quite a lot of experience with art forgery,” Germain said, “and one can still smell the odor of fresh paint on that one. Maybe I am wrong. Only a true expert could tell if the brushwork was not that of Van Gogh, but I am not usually wrong.”

“Then we must find the girl who posed as me,” I said.

“I agree,” Germain said. “But do we have any other suspects in this case?”

“Georgie suggests his mistress, who left in a bit of a two and eight,” Granddad said.

“A what?” the others said in unison.

“Sorry.” Granddad chuckled. “A two and eight—that’s rhyming slang for ‘a state.’ She left in a bit of a state.”

“And this mistress might be found where?”

“I’ve no idea,” I said. “Her name is Olga and she was a dancer.”

“Easy enough to locate, then. And who else?”

“His wife and son both had reasons for wanting him out of the way,” I said, “and his son just lied about arriving on this morning’s train. He’s been here a few days.”

“Interesting.” Germain nodded. “So we have enough to keep us busy.”

“Apart from his family, who do not seem to be mourning his death,” I said, “everything one heard about Sir Toby suggested that he was a man who was ruthless, who didn’t play by the rules and who made enemies.”

Granddad nodded. “I remember his name now. I was wondering where I’d come across it before and it’s just come to me. It was that big trial.”

“He was involved in criminal activity?” Germain asked.