She looked at him as if he was supposed to say something but he wasn’t falling into that trap, not with her in this manic, agitated mood.
‘There were more people there than usual. And Patrick doesn’t run that sort of gallery. Empty is more his style. Dead is normal operating procedure. He wouldn’t want the masses in there anyway. I thought it was intriguing. So I went into the other room to see what they were all looking at.’ She paused and he felt her shoulders rise in tension before she burst out, ‘Only an exhibition ofmyflipping pictures.’ She clutched it tighter to her chest, her elbows winging out like an indignant penguin.
Devon didn’t quite follow. ‘I thought having an exhibition was a good thing.’
From the icy glare she gave him, it didn’t take Einstein to surmise he’d said something exceptionally stupid.
‘It is if the pictures haven’t beenstolen,’ she spat the word, ‘from you.’ She stopped in the street and turned to face him, her face full of irate indignation. ‘Patrick took them. From the lock-up. All my mice pictures. They were mine. He stole them. After all he said.’ Her eyes widened with every sentence.
Her mouth opened and shut for a couple of seconds, her cheeks reddening. ‘I didn’t know anything about it. I can’t believe . . . I just . . . how dare he?’
‘Ah.’ Devon floundered for a minute. In the face of her anger, it would be as easy to say the wrong thing as it was to take a wrong step in a minefield.
‘Not just that.’ Her eyes widened, flashing with fury. ‘This,’ she stabbed at the image of Cuthbert with venom, ‘is a new one.’ With clenched teeth, she made a noise pretty close to a growl. ‘It wasn’t in the lock-up. No! Not even my publisher has seen it.’
It took a minute for Devon to work out what the implications of that were.
‘So how did he get hold of it?’ he asked cautiously, still aware of his precarious position.
‘As to the exact process, your guess is as good as mine, but it wasn’t legit. He’s never been to the cottage. So who has?’ Her eyes burned with a sheen, suggesting she was close to tears. ‘He must have phoned a friend. A mutual friend. Britta.’ She slowed down and he could see the weariness settle heavy on her shoulders as her posture sagged. Betrayal did that to you.
‘I’m sorry. That’s shit.’
‘I think that’s what tipped me over. I don’t care that he’s selling the pictures. It’s that he’s such a hypocrite. And that she came and pretended to be my friend. I lost it. Just took it off the wall and walked out with it.’
‘Ah,’ he could picture it, the sense of injustice powering her, ‘and that’s when you were arrested.’
Ella’s face fell with chagrin. ‘Yeah. It never occurred to me that they’d set the alarm off. I didn’t really think that far ahead. I don’t know what I thought they’d do. Or what I’d do. I didn’t think at all, just acted.’
She suddenly looked so woebegone as she stared down at the picture, holding it out at arm’s length. He stopped and they looked at it together. He smiled – it was Cuthbert at his finest. The mouse had an imperious look on his face as he posed paw on furry hip, the feather of his hat tickling him under the chin. Devon slid an arm along her shoulder and pulled her closer to him.
‘You’re very talented. This is brilliant.’
‘It’s not brilliant.’ She wrinkled her nose and then her mouth softened. ‘Although, I like it.’ Her mouth curved into a smile. ‘Yeah, I really like it.’
‘You should. It’s clever. Witty. Warm. You can almost imagine what Cuthbert is thinking.’
She shot him a quick grin. ‘I know what he’s thinking.’
‘I’m the bee’s knees and isn’t this just the best hat you’ve ever seen?’ said Devon. ‘But you love me despite my vanity.’
He felt Ella’s shoulders lift and she turned her head towards him, delight showing on her face. ‘Ten out of ten, Mr Vet.’
‘And I’d say achieving that takes real talent and a certain skill.’
‘Thank you. That means a lot. I’d not really seen it like that before. Too wrapped up in worrying about the pictures not being meaningful.’
‘I’d say that’s in the eye of beholder and you. Cuthbert looks like he means to get up to plenty of mischief.’
Ella nodded. ‘He does that all right.’
Devon was pleased to see he’d put a smile back on her face – she had to be feeling pretty crappy at the moment. Being let down by people you loved and trusted ranked up there as being officially shit.
‘So, now that you’re a master art thief . . . Were you charged? What happens next?’ He slowed down; the car was in sight now.
‘They arrested me. Took all my stuff away, so I couldn’t even phone you. I had to wait for a duty solicitor except there wasn’t anyone.’ Her mouth trembled and he could tell she was getting upset again. Of course she was, it had to have been quite a traumatic experience.
‘Hey, it’s OK. You’re out now. So what did the solicitor say?’ He gave her another squeeze and she responded by nudging up to his body which wasn’t that easy when she was still hanging onto the picture.
