“It is. It’s only what they call an ‘original copy,’ and Thorvaldsen wasn’t the one who made it. But, indeed, it’s here, hidden away in a box in the attic.”

“That’s kind of a shame.”

“I agree! From my perspective, art isn’t just about aesthetics. It’s a form of cognition that tells you something fundamental about being human. But who bothers listening to me?” Jenny put on a pair of cotton gloves and carefully took one of the wooden boxes from the shelf. “I’ll show you one of the best ones. Georg Zoëga, Thorvaldsen’s mentor. It’s from 1809.”

Jenny removed the lid from the box and scooped out the protective foam pellets handful by handful, until she was able to lift up an object wrapped in tissue. Carefully she removed sheets of wrapping paper from around the mask and presented it to Esther, as if it were a newly hatched chick.

The mask was gray and cracked in places, but otherwise well preserved, looking like a hollow-cheeked male face with closed eyes and a hooked nose, its mouth slightly open. He could have been sleeping, and yet without even knowing why, Esther had no doubt that he was dead.

“And they were made shortly after the moment of death?”

“With plaster of paris on the face of the dead, yes. Then used as a cast. In the 1800s many artists made casts of prominent dead people so that they could later carve a statue with a good likeness. A death mask.” Jenny carefully turned the mask over to show the handle on the back. “In the old days, people hung them on the wall for decoration, but we’re too prudish to do that kind of thing now. We’re so terrified of death that we would rather ignore it.”

Esther leaned closer till the mask was only a handsbreadth from her eyes.

“Do you think some essence of the deceased remains in the mask? That it can sort of build a bridge between the world of the dead and the living?” Esther asked.

Jenny looked at her as if she were crazy.

“I have to get back down to the floor again before my boss notices I’m gone.” She set the mask back in its box, carefully returned the foam pellets, closed the lid, and put it back on the shelf.

“Right, of course.” Esther stood up straight.

“So then we just need to deal with the payment.”

“I’ll go find an ATM and be back in a second.”