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An Old Likeness






 

Mr. Gregory opened the door to a closet in his office and brought out a painting with an old, ornate gilt frame. Nancy stared at the portrait.

The painter had depicted a handsome young man with dark eyes and a cleft chin. He was dressed in the elegant style of the late eighteenth century. He had a tall, white powdered wig and a pale blue velvet coat embroidered in gold with a frothy jabot gathered at the throat of his fine white shirt.

" A striking fellow, I must admit, " Mr. Gregory remarked, " even if the painting's not all that valuable."

" Yes, " Nancy agreed and went on musingly, " It's strange, but he reminds me of someone." Try as she would, Nancy could not place the resemblance. " Can you tell me anything about the painting, Mr. Gregory, besides the fact that it was donated by the Duval family? "

The curator pointed to some small, scriptlike markings in the lower right-hand corner of the canvas. " Well, I have deciphered the artist's signature. He was Antoine Grivet, a minor French painter who flourished in the late 1700s. The date is less easy to make out, but appears to be 1790."

" Is there any way to find out whose portrait this was? " Nancy asked.

" Hm, yes, it may be possible to establish the subject of the picture. One would have to consult an expert who specializes in French art of that period. There's a chap in New York who might be able to help. I'll call him this afternoon."

Mr. Gregory replaced the painting in the closet and locked the door, then glanced at his watch. " Oh, my goodness. I have a meeting with the trustees in five minutes. Nancy, could you excuse me? "

" Of course. And thanks ever so much for letting me know about the Duval painting."

" A pleasure, my dear. It's the least I could do after your efforts to help solve those break-ins."

They parted outside the curator's office. Mr. Gregory bustled off down the corridor. As

Nancy walked toward the marble staircase which led down into the lobby, she happened to glance in an open doorway. A dark-haired young woman in a blue smock was bent over a framed painting on a worktable in front of her, carefully examining and cleaning the painted canvas. The young woman looked up and their eyes met.

" Hi, Nancy! " She was the curator's assistant, Jane Heron. " On the trail of another mystery?,,

" Well, a small one." Nancy paused for a moment to chat. " But so far I'm not having much luck."

" What's the mystery, may I ask? "

" How that television news report this morning came to name me as the one who discovered that Lee Talbot's prize-winning painting looked like a picture in the museum."

" But you are the one, aren't you? "

Nancy smiled ruefully. " Yes and no. Actually it was a reporter for the Record, Peter Worden, who first noticed the similarity. I just happened to spot the picture he had in mind. It was the one I photographed down in the basement storage area, remember? "

Miss Heron nodded, looking troubled. " Yes, indeed I do."

" But, you see, I knew the discovery was likely to stir up a good deal of unpleasantness, and I didn't want to become involved. So I asked Mr. Worden not to mention my name when he wrote his news story. He promised he wouldn't, and he assures me he kept his promise. Yet the television newscaster this morning named me as the person who made the discovery.

" Oh, dear! " A look of distress had come over Jane Heron's face. " Nancy, I'm very much afraid that I'm the one who's to blame! "

" You? " Nancy stared at the museum staffer in surprise. " I don't understand. How did it happen? "

Miss Heron explained unhappily that a television camera crew had come to the museum to photograph the picture in question, after picking up Worden's story over the news wire, even before it appeared in the morning Record.

" They wanted to interview me, " she went on, " but at the time I knew nothing about the matter, so all I could tell them was that I had seen you photographing the picture. They must have assumed from that that you were the one who'd discovered the similarity of the two paintings."

The girl detective responded with a thoughtful nod. " Yes, that probably explains it."

" Oh, Nancy, I'm terribly sorry! " Jane Heron exclaimed, reaching out to squeeze her hand. " I just wasn't using my head. I should have spoken to you before mentioning your name. Can you possibly forgive me for not being more cautious? "

Seeing that the woman was upset, Nancy summoned a smile. " Don't worry, you had no way of knowing. In your place, I might have done the same. At least you've solved one mystery for me."

After leaving the museum, Nancy decided to visit Pierre Michaud, to see how he was coming along repairing his invention, and also to tell him about the latest developments in his case.

When she arrived at his workshop, she found him busily at work with his tools and electronic equipment. " You see, Nancy, a representative of the National Computer Company called and said they were interested in seeing my memory device. So I must have everything ready to demonstrate my invention when he comes here. He may be in River Heights within the next day or two."

" Golly, can you be ready that soon? "

" Om, if that is when he is coming, then I must be ready, even if it means working day and night, " Pierre replied with a smile. " Anything is possible if one works hard enough! Is that not what you say here in America? "

Watching his mobile features while he talked, Nancy was struck by a sudden realization. Now she knew whom the man in the portrait reminded her of! No doubt the wig had thrown her off.

" Is something wrong? " Pierre inquired, seeing her startled expression.

Nancy's blue eyes twinkled. " Far from it. In fact you just made something come right for me." She described the picture which the museum curator had shown her and asked if by any chance it might be a painting of someone in his family.

" Mais non, Nancy. It could not be a Michaud. My family was of humble origin. No velvet or gold-embroidered clothes for us! " He laughed and added with a wave of his hand toward the computer assembly. " There may be before long, though, if I can get this finished and sell it! "

Nancy was about to leave a short time later when an expensive-looking car pulled up outside the building and Pierre's backer, Mr. Varney, came striding into the workshop. The big, vigorous-looking financier seemed preoccupied and disturbed.

" My boy, " he blurted, " I don't like the way things are shaping up, not one bit."

" Do you mean the explosion, sir? " Pierre asked anxiously.

" Not only the blast itself, but the news report that was broadcast about what happened. Do you realize this could ruin your chances of selling your invention? Nobody wants to invest in something so risky it may blow up in his face! "

" But, Mr. Varney, you were here just after it happened. You know the explosion was not my fault. Miss Drew will tell you that the computer I was using to demonstrate my device had been bobby-trapped. Some enemy wired it with a bomb that was set to go off when the computer was turned on! "

" Yes, yes, we know all that. But that is certainly not the impression that listeners to the news broadcast will get. I’m sorry, but I may have to reconsider giving you any further financial support! "

Pierre's face was glum. " I hope you will not decide too hastily, sir, now that my work has progressed this far. In spite of the accident, another computer manufacturer is also interested in my memory device."

The young Frenchman told his backer about the call which he had already mentioned to Nancy. Then, pacing about the workshop with a worried expression, Pierre went on, " I will admit, sir, I was quite upset myself about that news broadcast. I only wish I could find out who circulated the story. I even called the radio station, but they could tell me nothing."

" But they must have gotten their information somewhere" put in Nancy. " Wouldn't they reveal their source? "

" They said only that someone had phoned the story to their news desk. The person who took it down simply assumed the call came from one of the news services to which the station subscribes.,,

Nancy frowned. " Obviously you have an enemy, Pierre. The caller must have been someone who's trying to stop you from selling your invention."

Mr. Varney, with a look of alarm, said, " For your own safety's sake, my boy, maybe you ought to stop work for a while. Or perhaps move to another area."

" But I am already set up here in River Heights, sir. Why should I leave when my work is progressing so well? "

The financier pursed his lips and frowned. " At least think about it. I'll let you know my own decision soon." With a nod to both Nancy and Pierre, Varney left and drove away.

Nancy, seeing that Pierre had a great deal on his mind in addition to his pressing work schedule, left soon afterward with a few parting words of encouragement. She drove to her father's office.

Nancy gave a sigh of relief as she entered his comfortable private sanctum with its deep leather chairs, polished dark wood, and wall-wide shelves filled with law books.

" Why, Nancy! This is a nice surprise." Carson Drew rose from behind his desk to give her a hug and a kiss.

" Thanks for letting me barge in on you, Dad. I've had such an upsetting morning! And I need some good legal advice."

" Well, tell your old dad all about it. Then we'll go and have a nice lunch." Mr. Drew waited until Nancy was comfortably seated, then settled down to listen.

It was a relief to Nancy to tell her father about her accidental involvement in the prize painting dispute. She had just finished describing the angry call she had received during breakfast from Lee Talbot when the phone on Mr. Drew's desk rang.

He picked it up, listened for a moment as his secretary told of someone on the line, and said he would take the call.

" Carson Drew here… Oh yes, Counsellor… Hm. Well, why don't we meet here in my office at 3: 30 this afternoon? If you care to bring your client, I'll have my daughter here at that time and we can discuss the matter... Very well, sir. See you at 3: 30."

Mr. Drew hung up and looked at Nancy. " That was Aaron Locke, Lee Talbot's lawyer. You're being sued for libel."

 






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