“Until tonight—wait a second. Didn’t you know Mona Pearl took the statue of Diana from your drawing room last week?” I said.

“Oh, was that her? I thought Mr. Gatewood had taken it to be cleaned. Well, it’s her right.”

“What do you mean?”

“That statue belongs to Mona Pearl. I’ve been looking after it for the last five years. It wasn’t very well guarded. I think I always hoped she’d come back for it. What did she want with it?”

“She was going to use it in some kind of performance at the new Slay Gallery. But it disappeared in the middle of the show, and no one has seen it since!”

“Oh yes, now that you mention it, the police did call me to let me know the statue had been taken. I wasn’t that concerned. It’ll turn up, I’m sure. The things we make have a habit of coming back to us. Besides, I’m too old to worry about such things anymore. That’s why I threw this party in the first place. I’m finally ready to come clean.” The Duchess bowed her head.

She sighed, her eyes sad and tired. Then she raised and swiveled her chair back to the canvases. “You’d better go on back to the party now, Miss Drew. I’d like to finish Ezekiel’s portrait in peace.”

Mr. Gatewood appeared through one of the eight identical doorways and presented the Duchess with a bouquet of paintbrushes, some fluffy, some stiff, with long wooden handles.

My studio visit was finished. How could the Duchess be so unbothered? I planted my feet right where I stood and spoke loudly. “Mrs. Strickland, I have to tell you something—your grandson and his friend stole from you too. I saw Diana Yip break into the pedestal where you used to display your missing Diana statue. She took something out of the pedestal and hid it in her dress. Zeke must have told her where to find it. I tried to confront her, but she got away.”

The Duchess turned sharply in her chair. I took the ribbon with the chameleon charm from my pocket and dangled it on its ribbon.

“I think the two thefts might be connected,” I went on, ignoring the Duchess’s glare.

The Duchess took a long moment to respond. “If what you’re saying is true … it means Diana found my ledger book. Only my family knows where I keep it. Only my family knows what’s written inside. Only my family could have stolen it from me.”

“What’s in the ledger book?” I asked.

Mr. Gatewood stood still as a lizard, or maybe a chameleon.

The Duchess held me with her icy stare for a long time before speaking. “That book … is where I recorded the name of every person who bought or sold my work, and how much I made from each sale—everyone who ever fell for my fakes. It’s a long list. If it ever got out, I’d be ruined.” The Duchess smiled ruefully as she said it. One wrinkled eyelid fluttered. Was the Duchess winking? “Let’s hope it doesn’t get out.”