“Yes,” he breathed. “God, yes. At the risk of sounding like a serial killer, you’d require an armed tactical team to drag me out of here now.” His eyes swept the length of the painting. “I think this is a Munch.”

“I agree. His initials appear in the lower left. Though I haven’t been able to find any provenance or records for it. Or any of them, for that matter,” she muttered.

His head snapped up. “What did you say you did for a living?”

“I didn’t.” She tipped her head. “But since you asked, I’m a chemical engineer.”

“Who is well versed in art history?”

“Hardly. I’m much better at math than modernism. But the internet can be helpful from time to time,” she said. “Still, my Googling abilities certainly do not make me an expert on anything. Which is why I really contacted you. And why, I suspect, you got here as quickly as you did.”

Grey eyes pinned her where she stood. “You put this painting in the background of the picture you sent me on purpose.”

“Of course I did.”

“That was positively diabolical.”

“I’ve been accused of worse. It worked, didn’t it?”

“It did.”

“I need to know if this painting, like the rest, could be stolen.”

“I understand.” Gabriel remained crouched in front of the painting. “If you are agreeable, I’d like to make arrangements to take the entire collection back to my studio in London,” he said.

“But there are so many.”

“That’s no problem. I’ve arranged for transport of much larger collections before. I’ll be able to establish authenticity there and get second opinions, if need be. I’d prefer to have them stored securely until they’ve been processed and identified. At the very least, they should be insured.”

“Of course.” Lia hadn’t thought of that.

“I’d like for you to visit my studio once the paintings are there. So that we can go over exactly what I’ll be doing with each piece. There will be significant paperwork involved, and if possible, I’d like to cover that with you in person. Will you have time to come to London?”

“Yes,” Lia said. “I just finished out my last contracted position, and there is a new posting in Seville that I intend to chase but interviews don’t start for a few weeks yet. With the death of my grandmother, I didn’t try to find work in between. Which, it seems, was just as well.”

“Seville?” Gabriel lifted an eyebrow.

“I’m in consulting. Which means I go wherever the work is and stay as long as the job lasts. I don’t spend a lot of time here in Paris.”