There was one more thing Gabriel needed from the computer. It was the duty of every restorer to keep a record of the procedures carried out on a painting, especially one as important as a newly discovered Rembrandt. Though Liddell was still early in the restoration process at the time of his death, it was possible he had recorded some of his initial observations. Without asking for permission, Gabriel started the word-processing program and opened the most recent document. It was two pages in length and written in Liddell’s precise, scholarly prose. Gabriel read it quickly, his face an inscrutable mask. Resisting the impulse to click PRINT, he closed the document, along with the photo folder.

“Anything unusual?” the detective asked.

“No,” said Gabriel, “nothing at all.”

“Is there anything else you would like to see?”

Gabriel switched off the computer and said, “Just one more thing.”

CHAPTER 10

10

GLASTONBURY, ENGLAND

They stood shoulder to shoulder at the edge of the landing and stared silently down at the dried blood. “I have photographs,” said the detective, “but I’m afraid they’re not for the squeamish.”

Gabriel wordlessly held out his hand and accepted a stack of eight-by-ten prints—Christopher Liddell, eyes frozen wide in death, a gaping exit wound at the base of his throat, a small entry wound in the center of his forehead. Again, Harkness watched Gabriel intently, plainly intrigued by his failure to register even a hint of revulsion at the sight of a brutally murdered corpse. Gabriel handed the photos to Chiara, who examined them with a similar dispassion before returning them to the detective.

“As you can see,” he said, “Liddell was shot twice. Both rounds exited the victim and were recovered. One from the wall, the other from the floor.”

Gabriel examined the wall first. The bullet hole was located approximately three feet above the floor, opposite the flight of stairs descending from the studio.

“I assume this is the neck shot?”

“That’s correct.”

“Nine millimeter?”

“You obviously know your weaponry, Mr. Rossi.”

Gabriel looked up toward the third-floor studio. “So the killer fired from the top of the stairs?”

“We don’t have a final report yet, but the angle of the wound, combined with the angle that the round entered the wall, would suggest that. The medical examiner says the shot struck the victim in the back of the neck, shattering the fourth cervical vertebra and severing the spinal cord.”

Gabriel looked at the crime-scene photographs again. “Judging from the powder burns on Liddell’s forehead, the second shot was fired at close range.”

“A few inches,” Harkness agreed. Then he looked at Gabriel and added provocatively, “I suppose a professional assassin might refer to that one as the control shot.”

Gabriel ignored the remark and asked whether any of the neighbors had reported hearing gunshots. Harkness shook his head.

“So the gunman used a suppressor?”

“That would appear to be the case.”