The Monuments Men Murders (The Art of Murder 4)
“Which things are we talking about?” Jason asked.
She threw him a frightened look. “The things you were asking Mommy and Uncle Bert about.”
Yeesh. Baby and now Mommy. That was kind of squicky, as his fourteen-year-old niece Nora would say.
He’d have loved to get Sam’s take on this cast of characters.
“Could you describe some of those things for me?”
“No.” She amended, “I don’t know what things Great-Uncle Roy brought back and what was just…his.”
“Sure. Did he bring a lot of things back?”
She swallowed. “I don’t know. Why are you asking me?”
“You’re mentioned in your great-uncle’s will, so it seems like he was fond of you. And we know from talking to other people that he was a generous and thoughtful man.”
“He was!”
“So it seems like he might have let you choose something from his art collection.”
Bull’s-eye.
She had been about to sit, but that had her back on her feet, looking terror-stricken. “He never did!”
“Okay,” Jason said easily. “He never did. What was your great-uncle like?”
“I-I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
Hm. What did she think he was getting at?
Jason smiled. “It’s not a trick question. I didn’t get to meet him, so it’s hard to know what he was really like. I have to rely on other people’s impressions.”
“Oh.” She smiled suddenly and sat down. “He was wonderful. Very artistic. And he always had funny stories to tell. He was very cultured too. He had been to Europe.”
“You mean after the war?”
“Yes. A few times.”
“Did you ever meet any of his friends?”
The defensive look was back on her face. “I don’t care about any of that. He was wonderful to me.”
Okay. Now he got it.
“Your great-uncle was gay. Is that correct?”
“It’s no one’s business!”
“I agree. Did your uncle—sorry, your great-uncle—did he ever mention the name Emerson Harley to you?”
She shook her head, and her curls bounced.
“I’m sure by now you’re aware that your mother and your uncle attempted to sell three works of art from your great-uncle’s collection, and that those paintings turned out to have been part of a trove of art and other objects stolen by the Nazis.”
She nodded. “They didn’t know that,” she whispered.
“Of course not. Are you aware of any other items in your late great-uncle’s art collection that he might have acquired around the same time?”