“I thought the Duchess and her family were estranged,” I said.

“That was true. Mona Pearl’s mom never came back to River Heights. During the school year, Mona Pearl lived with her mom in the city, but that year, she’d finally convinced her mom to let her spend a summer with her grandmother. My classmates thought Mona Pearl’s grandmother was stuck-up. Everyone said the Duchess owned two paintings worth ten million each, but she never let anyone see them.”

“Why not?”

“I think the Duchess was too greedy to share. I tried to get close to Mona Pearl, to work with her on a few projects, but she always said no. She told me she preferred to work alone. Stuck-up, just like her grandmother. But just like her grandmother, she was lying. …”

“Did you have a crush on Mona Pearl?” Bess asked.

“Certainly not! Mona Pearl was beautiful, yes, but if I had any interest in her, it was for her talent with a brush and her mastery of technique.”

I rolled my eyes at that, but Sven went on.

“One day she invited me to the Strickland mansion for lunch in the garden. That was a fiasco! The Duchess and Mona Pearl were fighting about something or other. Mona Pearl could barely look at me, the finger sandwiches had cilantro in them, and even when I snuck away to snoop around the mansion, I could tell the Duchess didn’t trust me. I looked everywhere for the Duchess’s two precious paintings, but she must have hidden them. I started to think maybe my classmates were right. The Duchess was nothing but a stuck-up old hoarder.”

“If she’s so stuck-up, why did she just invite all of River Heights to her house for a party?” I interjected. Sven could talk all day if you didn’t stop him. “She’s putting on a show for us. You have to appreciate that. And I’m sure you’ll get to see those priceless paintings if you come.”

“She sure took her sweet time,” said Sven. “The wealthy always do. I spent five years trying to track down a list of the pieces in the Duchess’s collection. It’s been impossible to find sales records. The only thing I know for sure is that the Duchess’s secret paintings were painted by an artist called D. Shammas. Have you heard of him?” When I didn’t answer, Sven gave me a dismissive wave. “Of course you haven’t. I must assume the Duchess’s Shammases have never been seen by anyone but the Duchess herself. Very little is known about the artist’s life or work, and if she’d only share her paintings, we might learn a bit more about this reclusive genius. So you see, the Duchess’s secrecy is a form of greed.”

“But it’s not true that no one else has seen the paintings you’re talking about,” I said slowly. “What about Mona Pearl? And the Duchess’s daughter? And my dad? He said he had dinner at the mansion once, and he saw two small portraits of children hanging near the staircase. I’ll bet anything those are the Shammases you’re talking about.”