Code of Siman (8 page)

Chapter Fourteen
A Pure Definable Interpretation

“I’ve found something pretty exciting Warren, come take a look.” Dauphine beckoned him over. “I take it you’ve informed the board of your decision to close the museum?”

“Yes.” Warren sighed, “I’ve yet to hear back from someone. Let’s see what you’ve found.”

“As I said, it’s pretty exciting. Another painting hovered as a holographic image on one wall, while a painting of an Old Master was physically secured within the framework of the equipment.

Warren looked from one to the other, “Is this some kind of trick, how is this possible?”

“I’ll show you. I separated the two images. One is virtually on top of the other, with a light tracing of what appears to be a canvas-colored watercolor in between… Now, I’ll put them back together, just like this, and now you see the surface painting only.”

“I’ve seen uncompleted works under canvases, but this…this is an entire painting hidden from view.” Warren’s initial fear of the forgeries he thought he would find suddenly vanished. “This is history in the making… I can’t believe it, this is incredible!”

“Yes, it really is, and I can remove the forged Old Master. Just give me permission, and I’ll have this lost work magically appear before us. In real form.”

“Do it. Absolutely… To have found ‘Painter on the Road to Tarascon’ by Vincent Van Gogh will bolster my quest to review each and every painting in The National Gallery.”

“Do you know what this means?” Warren asked excitedly.

Warren continued without being prompted, “The purported fire of July 27, 1942 in Paris where paintings from Chagall, Matisse, Picasso, Van Gogh, and so many others were burned as degenerate art, may have actually been saved! There had to have been a concerted effort of the Resistance to replace the canvases thrown onto the massive bonfire with lesser works, or maybe even blank canvases in frames. This is proof, right here, what we have is absolute, concrete proof,” Warren finished.

“I can’t understand why Hitler felt that he needed to destroy such valuable artwork.” Dauphine said as she removed the frame from its secured position. “It’s beyond me to even estimate the amount of paintings we’re looking at that could possibly be hidden somewhere…if they were switched at the last minute, where could they all be?”

The Resistance Movement began in France, incorporating many who had been labeled as unworthy, either because of their religion, their nationality, mental or physical handicap, or because they were associated with someone out of favor by the Reich. The ‘Cleansing of the German Culture’ included book burning and the methodical removal of anything and everything produced by any of those groups.

“How did the Modern Impressionist works become part of the ‘degenerate’ works of art?” Dauphine inquired.

“He simply didn’t care for them, nor did he care for highly religious depictions within art work. These he initially used for valuable trades, but when he realized that strong-arming individuals was a tactic at his disposal, he rid himself of the unwanted pieces, resorting to looting instead.”

“Mr. Pan?” The unmistakable soft monotone of the staff leader was audible at Warren’s side.

“Yes, Tsun Jai, how are we doing out there?”

“I have designated areas for pictures waiting to have frames removed, canvases waiting to be brought in, and canvases checked, then an area for frames to be matched back up, and replaced onto the walls.”

“Good, it sounds like we should be able to process the paintings in an expedient and organized manner.”

“Ah, yes, but we have a problem Mr. Pan.”

“What is the problem Tsun Jai?”

“The lady, State Secretary, she is here with a man and they look very upset. They told me that you don’t have the authority to close the museum or test the paintings. They’re trying to find you…I ah… I told them you were at the other side of the Gallery.”

“Smart…that should buy us about thirty minutes by the time they figure it out.” Warren appeared contemplative, bringing his hand to his face, where he absently stroked his well-manicured goatee-styled beard and mustache…

“I continue to process the paintings Mr. Pan?”

“Yes, continue until I tell you otherwise. You did the right thing Tsun Jai.” Warren nodded absently as he continued to ponder the meaning behind their visit, as well as their intentions.

“Yes, I know.” Tsun Jai withdrew from the lab, which was becoming crowded with the smaller canvases lined up along the lab counter, and the larger canvases positioned along the wall.

“That girl needs some confidence…” Dauphine said, laughing at the exchange she just witnessed.

“What? Yes, yes…” Warren turned to go, but then changed his mind.

Warren looked around for Dauphine, found her holding one of the larger canvases as she prepared to place it within the moveable arms of the instruments to be evaluated.

Warren said, “I’m going to see if I can head them off before they see the extent of our…”

“Too late Mr. Panetiere, we’ve seen it.”

Warren swiveled around, momentarily caught off guard. “Madam Secretary and Chief Justice.” Warren extended his hand politely to each of them.

“The unprecedented actions are completely beyond the scope of your capabilities, and I will have you know that you will not be allowed to continue to conduct yourself in this manner.”

The Chief Justice placed a gentle but firm hand on the Secretary of State’s arm to quiet her as he attempted to calm the situation.

Warren looked from the Secretary to the Chief Justice, tolerant of their reaction as he had earth shattering news, which would serve to temper their behavior quickly.

“Well sir, you look like the cat that just swallowed the canary. Would you mind sharing the reasons behind the closure of the Museum and the parade of canvases removed from the wall? A forged painting is by no means reason to go to such extreme lengths.”

“What we have here, is a lost work of art painted by Vincent Van Gogh. It was thought to have been destroyed during the bonfires to purge degenerate art during World War II, but we have found it! Here, at the National Gallery! And I believe,” Warren paused for emphasis, walked to the massive units brought in from NASA, then continued, “these portable Atomic Oxygenated Units from NASA have the capability to determine the originals from the fakes, not to mention any hidden gems of information lying beneath the surface. This can be achieved through extensive preliminary X-ray evaluation and through the safe removal of oil, dust, stains, and other undesirable additions over the years.”

“Good job…yes, good job. The painting with the lipstick, what was that, a Vermeer? Woman Holding a Balance I believe…what happened with that particular debacle?”

Warren sighed, and without having to ask, he noticed Dauphine had placed the canvas of the damaged Vermeer, now with the over paint partially removed, back into the clamps. Dauphine entered instructions into the system while they looked on, and the image materialized on the opposite wall.

“What you are seeing is not a trick, and I know how that sounds.” Warren laughed, “Here, before you is the lost work of Van Gogh hidden under several layers of paint, upon which a copy of a Vermeer, the one you saw at the party kissed by the illustrious wife of our Congressman from Texas, was painted over. Possibly to further the deception…we don’t know; but the point is, our museum will be credited for making the first discovery of a monumental effort to deceive Hitler.”

“Well, now, that sounds all well and good, but what about the amount of money spent on the Vermeer? Where is the original? Have you forgotten that?”

“No sir, I haven’t forgotten about that, but it could be that this discovery supersedes the loss incurred by the museum for…”

Warren was cut off midstream by the Secretary of State, “Our contacts have informed us that the Vermeer had been switched by the Restorer of record; therefore the original Vermeer has in effect, been stolen.”

“And if that hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t have had the Van Gogh practically fall into our lap, along with the knowledge that a painting had survived the degenerate purging,” Warren replied.

“What we need to ask ourselves,” interjected the Chief Justice, “is how the public will perceive the findings, and at this point, it is my belief it will instill unrest and create confusion. Therefore, by my decree, I seal the information learned within this room, never to have it divulged to another soul.” The Chief Justice and the Secretary of State exchanged a look of solidarity.

Dauphine glanced over at Warren, who had become enraged at their inability to see that the world needed to learn of this recent development. “You can’t do this! We need to explore this further. We need to test each and every one of these canvases. With the technology we have today, it would be sacrilegious to keep the paintings hanging on the wall, not knowing whether they were containing mysteries beyond their surface. If you could just imagine the magnitude of this discovery and how it could change the perceptions of what happened during World War II…” Warren looked incredulous as he stared in open confusion upon the Chief Justice and then the Secretary of State, not understanding why they couldn’t see the potential impact of their discovery.

“Please reconsider. The world has a right to know.” Dauphine stated. Making her presence known, she came forward to stand by Warren’s side, sensing his frustration.

“We know all about you Ms. Delacroix, and your clandestine efforts to use the equipment belonging to the United States without the approval or consent of your superiors.”

“That’s not how this came about! I can explain this…there wasn’t time when I received the call…” Dauphine finished lamely, her face flushing with the memory of how she had told the team at NASA that she would be responsible for obtaining the Cargo Plane and would process the necessary paperwork later.

“If we so choose, we could charge you with hijacking a government plane, using government owned equipment for your own personal use, and interference with a Federal investigation.” The Chief Justice finished in his solid baritone.

“Are you prepared to face a court martial to answer to these charges Ms. Delacroix?” The Chief Justice inquired.

“No, sir.” Dauphine held her chin high although tears of anger stung her eyes.

“I believe you have achieved more than most in the short amount of time you have been appointed here as the Director. Your efforts will not go unrewarded, but let’s just say, you may be a little tired…and you have had to take a sabbatical. How brief or long, will of course, depend on you. Do you understand what I am saying to you Mr. Panetiere?”

Warren stated through gritted teeth, “I understand you perfectly Mr. Chief Justice.”

“Good, now that we have ourselves an understanding,” The Chief Justice inclined his head to the Secretary of State, “we would like to have you escorted to your home as you evaluate your choices for your next position.”

“Where would that be?” Warren asked none too sweetly.

“That would be up to you, after all; this is your choice now isn’t it,” The Chief Justice said in a condescending manner.

The Chief Justice clapped Warren on the back, “This will give you time to reflect on your achievements and how your career will proceed in the years to come. Do I make myself clear Mr. Panetiere?”

“Yes, sir. If I may have a brief word with Ms. Delacroix before I go?”

“No, I don’t believe that will be necessary. We have the situation under control without having to complicate things. Now, let’s get you started with that sabbatical…”

Dauphine caught Warren’s eye and held up her cell phone for a split second, just long enough for him to catch her meaning.

“Fine, I agree with you, perhaps testing all the paintings was reaching too far.” Although he was moving forward, Warren attempted to backtrack as he was led out of the room.

Tsun Jai could be heard protesting as members of the staff were instructed to reassemble the paintings and reposition them under military supervision.

Her boisterous complaints attracted attention, which indicated she was aligned with Warren. She was forcibly removed from the hall and brought to another part of the museum for further questioning.

As Warren was led toward the side of the museum to a waiting convoy of government vehicles, he could see a bevy of news reporters gathered around a polished looking man.

“Who’s the man being questioned by the reporters?” Warren asked the military officer beside him.

“That…would be the
new
Director of the National Gallery.”

Warren swallowed hard, a knot formed in the pit of his stomach, and his jaw clenched in a hard line, as he attempted to understand the meaning behind their actions.

“Sir, I have to ask you to stand still for a moment so that we can search you for any items belonging to the Museum.” The military officer patted him down, removed his keys and identification badge, and then stood facing him.

“Those keys are also to my car!” Warren snarled. The pat down complete, he stated the obvious, “Which you will be taking because it is Museum Property.”

“Your place of residence will have been searched as well,” he was told unceremoniously by the Chief Justice who had suddenly joined them.