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

Judith looked at Suzie, knowing that the ‘two blocks of colour next to each other’ was a very good description of the work of art that the intruder into Stefan’s house had stolen the frame from. But Judith could see that Suzie didn’t pick up on the connection. Of course she didn’t, Judith realised, Suzie hadn’t been with her, Becks and Tanika. But was this an important link? The sort of art that was the cause of the break-in was also the sort of art that Elliot liked to paint? Or was it a coincidence? After all, anyone learning to paint in the late twentieth century, as Elliot had, would no doubt paint like a painter from the late twentieth century.

‘Anyway,’ Fred said, ‘there came a point, after a couple of years, where Elliot realised he wanted to give up the business and have a go at being a professional artist. So he applied to the Slade School of Art, and guess what? He got in. It’s like the best art school in the country, and Elliot had got a place. An amazing achievement. But get this, his dad said no. Again. Elliot’s painting was like his rowing, he told him. Just a hobby. No one made any money as an artist, the only money to be made was in selling the stuff. So he wouldn’t give him the money to go to art school. It set Elliot back.’

‘I bet it did,’ Judith said.

‘And it made him resentful. Because his dad swore that if Elliot walked away from the business, he wouldn’t be allowed back. It was stay and help him run the auction house, or leave.’

‘Wow,’ Judith said.

‘I know,’ Fred agreed. ‘So Elliot let his place at the art school go and stayed at the auction house. And then, when his dad got ill, he became chairman. I was managing director by then. But Elliot’s heart wasn’t in his work if I’m honest. He just didn’t want to be there. And then his dad died. A heart attack on the golf course, of all things. Elliot couldn’t wait to get out of the business. He reapplied to art school. He didn’t get into the Slade this time, but he got into a good enough school in Reading. And he left the business.’

‘Was this in 1988?’

‘That’s right.’

‘When you became chairman?’