The Mezzotint Chapter 7 Pentimento

‘I can’t really think of any parallel at all, certainly in my experience, but to be sure I would have to adopt the same tactics as a barrister’

‘I don’t quite follow’

‘A man of the law could not conceivably be expected to maintain a complete compendium of precedents in his head, similarly with pentimenti…’

Creest sighed.  Professor August Brevocet was the leading expert in the field and an old acquaintance.  He also had a leading appetite and consequently cast an extensive shadow across his spacious rooms in University College London.  His frame filled the large armchair he was sitting in.  Above his rotund head sat on an enormous pair of shoulders like a football resting on a rigid curtain pelmet.  Despite his physical frame his manner betrayed a certain delicacy.       

‘So the practice is not unusual?’ said Creest

‘I would say, in your case, yes, but there isn’t any way I can prove it.  Some artists have painted over objects or figures for a variety of motives, political, aesthetic or otherwise, so why not use the same technique to scare if you had sufficient motive to do so? The bigger problem seems to be the method adopted’ 

‘Making the figure appear in different places’

‘Exactly - how does one do that?  There is no substance I know of that can reveal an element of a picture and then cover it over again.  Are you sure no-one had access to the canvas at all?’

Creest considered this.  ‘Possibly; I live in a quiet village.  There have been times when I’ve come home and to discover I’d left the door unlocked’

‘That may be the case then.  If you are right in assuming she is a failed student exacting some sort of childish retribution I suppose it’s possible she was watching the cottage, waiting for you to go out and gained access to the painting to make the necessary manipulations’

‘But she clearly has no skill at all’

‘You only have her word that it’s her picture after all.  Someone with clearly a modicum of talent could have drawn the subject for her.  She may be more skilful than you believe, which may be her point’

‘Okay, if we allow for the fact that maybe I missed the figure when it was first spotted by the vicar in the bushes it has since appeared in two places.  As the painting has been in my cottage since she gave it me, are you telling me she could’ve got inside twice?  On both occasions had the time necessary to reveal one figure and paint the other out?  As seamlessly as it looks?  No wet paint?’

‘I’m not doubting your expertise Creest but you have been under a strain and even renown authorities such as yourself have made mistakes.  It would not require too much time or effort if the figure is small, as you suggest it is.  As for wet oils, a simple hair dryer would suffice’   

Creest was clearly stung by the remark and almost spat back his reply. ‘The only affect has been on my sleep.  My judgment for art remains, I believe, as it was’, nevertheless after the trauma he’d suffered this last week, Brevocet’s suggestion wasn’t invalid; furthermore he hadn’t mentioned the physical appearance of the apparition and the nightmares he’d been plagued with.

‘The only thing we can do then is look at it together and try to find a logical resolution, yes?’

Creest nodded.  The object was resting against the far wall which contained a small library of art related literature.  Creest collected it gingerly, almost reluctantly.  Although he’d slightly repositioned the cloth and tightened the bonds the painting was transported more or less as he had left it in his attic; he couldn’t bear to look at it alone now.

‘Tell me one thing’ asked Brevocet, as he took the painting off Creest, ‘Why didn’t you just throw it away, after all there is no value to it?’

Creest blushed and Brevocet understood immediately, ‘Pretty then?’ he said mischievously.

He stopped unpicking the binding for a second, ‘There isn’t any violent or unspeakable history associated with the cottage at all?’

Creest looked at his colleague incredulously.  ‘Brevocet…did I really hear that from you?  I came here to discredit this mumbo jumbo, not give it some credence’

‘If you recall Creest I’m more agnostic than atheist’

‘Meaning that if my kitchen floor had been the scene of a horrific mass murder committed two hundred years ago that would explain the notion of a hooded figure creeping along a painting presented to me by a woman I have never met and has no connection to Greeven at all?’

Brevocet shrugged his shoulders.  ‘Perhaps I am a weaker agnostic than you believe Henry, besides how could you know if Miss Lincoln is or isn’t linked to the village?’

‘I don’t but what would be the significance?’

‘The picture, can you date it?’

 ‘A date? It could be anytime.  There is nothing to distinguish it.  The oils look…well…I just assumed it was her work after all’ Creest paused for a moment then continued.  ‘August, are you insinuating the picture belongs to the cottage?’    

‘It’s possible.  After all you say that it has no aesthetic quality?’

‘None that I know of’

‘Chances are then it was painted by someone who lived there’

‘And Miss Lincoln’s ownership?’

‘You are interrogating the wrong person Henry, how it came into her possession and why are questions that need to be put to her.’   

Brevocet prised open the string and removed the coverlet.  He held the painting with its back to Creest.  As he scanned the canvas his face screwed in on itself in puzzlement.  ‘Henry… is it the first of April by chance?’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Creest

He turned the painting around and pointed it at Creest.  ‘Where on earth is the figure?’ 

Creest’s bottom lip lost its footing and lapped around his chin.  True enough the figure could not be seen in the garden; neither was it back in its original position by the privet.  The picture was as it had been when Hope had first given him it.

‘It can’t be’ Creest cried

‘Henry, are you seriously telling me this is not a joke?’ Brevocet studied the professor’s face.

‘August, you have known me nearly 30 years.  I don’t possess a sense of humour’ 

‘Yes that’s true, so where is this mysterious figure then?’

Creest sat back in his chair for a second and then shot forward again.

‘It’s in the cottage!’

*

 

On the mahogany desk in front of Creest sat half a glass of single malt whisky.  His preferred tipple had always been gin but Brevocet had doubted that the characteristics of the clear liquor would restore any colour to the professor’s face.  Creest’s cheeks were withdrawn and blanched as if he were a ghost from one of his nightmares. 

Brevocet spoke softly to him. ‘Henry, what makes you believe this creature exists and is pursuing you?’

Creest motioned to speak but his throat was dry.  Brevocet handed him the scotch and Creest took another swallow.  Its sweet tickle made him cough. 

Brevocet continued ‘Henry, I believe we may be the victims here of some sleight of hand.  I think we are taking the wrong approach here.  Logically we cannot concede that it is possible for pentimenti to be the basis of a method of intimidating you.  It’s fraught with problems and quite frankly would be impossible, under the circumstances you’ve outlined to me, for anyone to pull it off.  Henry, I do believe that you have seen what you have seen.  I have no doubts in that direction however I think the effect has been achieved by a different means’

‘I am relieved that I have your faith but where are you going with this?’

‘Consider this…’ Brevocet said forcefully, ‘…not one painting but several’

‘I don’t follow’ said Creest

‘What if the perpetrator had painted a series of canvasses and in each one the figure appears in a different spot?’

‘But these were not prints.  The artist would have had to paint the backgrounds in each picture exactly the same to avoid detection’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I came here for help August and all you seem to be doing is questioning my proficiency’

‘How does a magician work; or a pickpocket?  It’s all distraction.  You told me it was the vicar who first spotted the figure in the privet’

‘Yes’

‘Since then, every time you have looked at the painting your focus has been on the progress of the figure, not the background’

‘Are you telling me the vicar is in on it?’

‘No, of course not; but I bet neither of you bothered to look beyond the character creeping across your lawn’

‘Possibly but how does this solve matters?’

‘You’ve admitted that access to your home isn’t too much of a problem.  What if the perpetrator got inside and simply switched the pictures?’

Creest responded to this scenario with the first smile he’d managed in a week; then frowned again. ‘You’re forgetting today.  That canvas has never left my side since I left the cottage.’

‘You must’ve have put it down sometime, even if it was only when you were buying your rail tickets and…’

‘You’re forgetting,’ Creest interrupted, ‘I tied the thing up myself.  They were my knots you undid a few moments ago – no-one else’s’

 ‘Even if you are right, they could have switched it before you left.  Did you check the painting before you secured it?’

Creest shook his head.  ‘I couldn’t bear to look at it’

‘So you see Henry, we have a rationale’

‘I remain unconvinced.  Whose future could I have dashed so badly they would go to the most extraordinary lengths to drive me insane? I would have remembered’

‘You prefer a scenario that involves the supernatural then?  Haven’t you just criticized me for that train of thought?’

‘But what could I have done to them?’

‘It may have been something insignificant as far as you were concerned but perhaps they took it the wrong way’

‘That’s an understatement.’ Creest sighed.  ‘Okay August, we accept that someone is out for revenge; what do I do now?’

‘There are really only three options.  Ignore it, they’ll get bored and you’ll never hear from them again or, play along and endeavour to unmask them or un-hood them shall we say’

‘How?’

‘Mark the painting’ Brevocet said impishly.

‘In what way?’ Creest asked

‘Turn it over’

Creest obeyed.  Brevocet took a small pen from his inside pocket and made a small black cross in the right hand apex - just enough to see but small enough to miss if you were not looking for it.

‘So you go home professor and take this with you.  Put it back where it was and carry on with your normal day to day activities as if nothing was wrong.  When you wake up in the morning, check the painting. If you leave the house check the painting when you return.  You’ll see’  

‘And the third option?’

‘Burn it’