Landscape of Lies: The Thrilling Race for Treasure

by Peter Watson

  Isobel realised he was speaking again. ‘And the painting? The Landscape of Lies? What’s happening to that?’ It had been found at Grainger’s home.

  ‘Well, since you ask, Michael had rather a good idea, I think. He said that, if you agree to marry us in St Mary’s, we would give you the picture, if you wanted it. Since the whole Monksilver business led to St Mary’s, it seems the proper resting place for it.’

  Weaver beamed. ‘I should be delighted, on both counts.’

  Isobel laughed.

  ‘Okay, everybody, I’ve done it,’ cried Michael. ‘Listen! The grand total, for the six objects sold today, plus what we were paid by the British Museum and the V and A, comes to seventeen million, four hundred and fifty thousand pounds. Divided five ways, since I have to give Greg a share, that means three million, four hundred and ninety thousand pounds for each of us.’

  ‘Dear Lord,’ whispered Weaver.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ said Helen.

  ‘Shit!’ said Robyn.

  ‘Let me see,’ said Michael, closing his eyes. ‘If I’m as good at maths as I say I am, my share gives me approximately three hundred and fifty thousand Havana cigars.’ He looked at Isobel and smiled. ‘Or, since I no longer smoke, two hundred and thirty thousand litre bottles of whisky. Do you think I could get decently drunk on that?’

  Isobel smiled. ‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’

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