Back The Marlow Murder Club
Chapters (49)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for Robert Thorogood
  3. About the Author
  4. Also by Robert Thorogood
  5. Note to Readers
  6. Dedication
  7. Chapter 1
  8. Chapter 2
  9. Chapter 3
  10. Chapter 4
  11. Chapter 5
  12. Chapter 6
  13. Chapter 7
  14. Chapter 8
  15. Chapter 9
  16. Chapter 10
  17. Chapter 11
  18. Chapter 12
  19. Chapter 13
  20. Chapter 14
  21. Chapter 15
  22. Chapter 16
  23. Chapter 17
  24. Chapter 18
  25. Chapter 19
  26. Chapter 20
  27. Chapter 21
  28. Chapter 22
  29. Chapter 23
  30. Chapter 24
  31. Chapter 25
  32. Chapter 26
  33. Chapter 27
  34. Chapter 28
  35. Chapter 29
  36. Chapter 30
  37. Chapter 31
  38. Chapter 32
  39. Chapter 33
  40. Chapter 34
  41. Chapter 35
  42. Chapter 36
  43. Chapter 37
  44. Chapter 38
  45. Chapter 39
  46. Acknowledgements
  47. Extract
  48. Prologue
  49. About the Publisher

‘Well, having used the first break-in to measure up and photograph the original painting, Elliot painted a copy, and the night I interrupted him in Stefan’s house, he was attempting to swap them. Of course he was. But the fact we found wood chips on the table by the chisel and hammer should have made us realise that he’d already managed to get the frame from the real Rothko by the time I arrived. So there he was with an original Rothko, an original frame, and a forged painting when I interrupted him and he threw his torch at me. He had a choice to make. Put the frameless forgery on the wall and run off with the real Rothko, or put the real Rothko back up on the wall even though it no longer had its frame on.’

‘I’d have put the forgery up and stolen the real thing,’ Suzie said. ‘Seeing as that’s what I’d broken in to do.’

‘But would you? Elliot had been caught in the middle of a burglary, he knew the police would be along soon enough. And whichever painting he put on the wall, he had to believe we’d work out that it was that particular painting he’d been tampering with.’

‘Which is exactly what happened,’ Becks said.

‘Precisely. So if he’d put his forgery on the wall, it would have been covered in his fingerprints and DNA, or had a hair or two from his glorious head of hair painted into the picture by mistake.’

‘Oh I get it,’ Suzie said, finally understanding. ‘The forgery would have led the police back to Elliot.’

‘So he had to put the real painting back. Which is also why he had to have his bonfire. He had to destroy his fake painting along with the real frame and all of his other practice attempts. But it also explains why he was at such a low ebb when Tanika spoke to him over the bonfire. He knew by that point that he’d killed a complete stranger solely so that he could get his father’s Rothko painting back in his hands, and he’d screwed the whole thing up. He’d carried out the murder, but he didn’t have the painting.’

‘And it was you who’d stopped him!’ Suzie said, delighted.

‘Not a bit of it. We all did it together. Now, we’re coming up to a bend in the river, so if I get the line right, we should be able to let the current take us around.’