The Ghost and the Doppelganger

by Anna J. McIntyre

  “Did they survive?” Lily asked.

  “Yes. But most of Bonnet’s early paintings were seized by the Nazis. After the war, he continued to paint and became one of France’s renowned artists of that era.”

  “How is it we didn’t know this? After all, one of his paintings is at the museum. If he’s so famous, wouldn’t they know?” Lily asked.

  “For one thing, take a look at his signature.” Ian stood up and handed Lily a printout to share with Danielle. Lily accepted it and showed it to Danielle. It was a close-up of the squiggling signature, similar to the one on Walt’s and Eva’s portraits.

  Lily looked up with a frown. “I don’t get it. That’s the same signature on Walt’s portraits.”

  “Yes. That’s Jacque Jehan Bonnet’s trademark signature—the one he used on all his paintings. For someone unfamiliar with his work, they wouldn’t be able to figure out the name of the artist. Just like we couldn’t.”

  Danielle slumped back in the sofa and looked at Ian. “And no one knew our artist was famous?”

  “I suspect Clint knows. And Macbeth. That’s probably why they’re here. To steal the original paintings. It’ll be pretty easy for them. All they have to do is swap the originals for the reproductions before they leave.”

  “You think that’s what they’re up to?” Lily asked.

  “That would be my guess. Look how Macbeth insists on keeping the library door locked when he’s in there alone,” Ian said. “Rumor has it, private collectors have spent a fortune obtaining the paintings the Nazis stole. The last Bonnet painting went at auction for over five million.”

  “Five million!” Lily and Danielle chorused. Startled, Sadie lifted her head and looked at the women.

  “How is that even possible that the paintings have been here all these years, and no one knew about them until now?” Danielle asked.

  “If you look up Bonnet’s bio, there is virtually nothing about his time in the States. You have to remember, during the war, his family lost everything—letters, diaries. Everything. But there were rumors he had spent his youth in the States, and some speculate that he may have done some portraits here to earn a living.”

  “Why would he have to do that if he was from a wealthy family?” Lily asked.

  “According to his bio, his father wanted him to go into the family business, and when he refused because his passion was art, they disowned him. He left for about ten years, but was back in France—and the family fold—by 1930. There are no details on his time here, only speculation.”

  “Have any of the portraits he supposedly painted in the US ever surfaced?” Danielle asked.

  “Not unless someone found one and sold it to a private collector. That segment in his bio suggesting he may have painted portraits to earn a living in America was purely speculation.”

  “We know he painted sets for a theater group,” Danielle said.

  “There was nothing in his bio about that. I imagine if any of those were uncovered, they would be worth a fortune—if you could prove he painted them,” Ian said. “And considering how he signs his paintings, it would be easy for one of his portraits to get overlooked unless an art expert familiar with his work happened on one.”

  “But how did Clint figure out what they were?” Danielle asked.

  Ian tossed the papers he had been holding onto the side table. “I have a theory on that.”

  “Let’s hear it,” Lily urged.

  “There was an art show in San Diego this past fall—featuring some of Bonnet’s work,” Ian began.

  “Clint lives in the San Diego area,” Danielle noted.

  “Yes. My theory, he went to the art show, noticed the unusual signature, and then recognized it when he looked at the pictures of the portraits posted on your website.”

  “He would’ve had to enlarge that image to see the signature,” Danielle suggested.

  “Bonnet has a very distinct style,” Ian pointed out. “Clint may have recognized that when he saw the pictures of Walt’s portraits and then took a closer look.”

  “That wouldn’t surprise me. When I saw Eva’s portrait for the first time, it reminded me of Walt’s,” Danielle said.

  “Oh my gosh!” Lily gasped. “The museum has a Bonnet too!”

  “Does Clint know about Eva’s portrait?” Ian asked.

  Danielle shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’s never mentioned it, and since he’s not one for engaging in small talk, I don’t think anyone has said anything to him about it.”

  “Unless he’s seen it online,” Lily suggested.

  “So what do we do now?” Danielle asked.

  “I think we need to let the chief know what’s going on,” Ian suggested.

  “We don’t know for sure Clint knows the originals are so valuable,” Danielle said.

  “I’m sure he knows. And so does Macbeth. I’d bet anything that’s why they’re here, to steal your paintings.”

  “You’re probably right. But even if we go to them now, with everything we know, there’s nothing we can do. They haven’t broken any laws yet. I can’t really say using an alias is illegal, considering Chris uses one,” Danielle said.

  “Then what do you want to do?” Ian asked.

  “I think we need to go ahead and let the chief know what we know. But let’s not say anything to anyone else right now. Let’s see what Clint does. Walt can keep an eye on them. Until they actually break the law, there’s nothing we can do.”

  “Shouldn’t you let the museum know?” Lily asked.

  “As long as none of Danielle’s current houseguests learn about Eva’s painting, I don’t think we have to worry about it right now,” Ian said.

  “I can let Eva know about it. Maybe she’ll want to keep an eye on her painting, and if someone makes a move on the portrait, she can let us know. But I would really like to wait until after Clint leaves to tell the museum. By then I can figure out what I want to do with our portraits. I’ll have to talk to Walt. If they really are that valuable, I certainly can’t leave them in my library.”

  “There is another option,” Lily suggested.

  Both Danielle and Ian looked to Lily.

  “You could say you just found out about the artist and put the portraits under lock and key now. That would be a reasonable thing for someone to do if they found out two priceless portraits were sitting in their house. Of course, it gets Clint and Macbeth off the hook, because you’ll pretty much foil their little heist before they can carry it off.”

  “That might not be a bad idea,” Ian said.

  The three sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Danielle said, “Let me talk to Walt. See what he wants to do. They are his paintings—and Clint is his cousin.”

  Fifteen

  When Danielle arrived back at Marlow House, she found Macbeth sitting in the kitchen eating a sandwich Joanne had prepared for him. While lunch and dinner were not included in the normal bed-and-breakfast package, Danielle assumed Joanne had offered to make him something to eat since he had slept through breakfast—again. Under other circumstances, Danielle might be tempted to remind Joanne that a guest who makes it a habit to miss the one meal offered with the room was not really entitled to have a meal at his convenience. If they got into that habit, they would be preparing meals all day long. However, Danielle was happy to see Macbeth was out of the library, which gave her an opportunity to talk with Walt. Therefore, she said nothing to Joanne.

  She found Walt in the parlor, and he was not alone. Marie and Eva were with him.

  “I still haven’t seen this cousin yet. I keep missing him,” Eva told Danielle.

  “He’s not here right now. But I’m glad you are,” Danielle told Eva. She shut the parlor door behind her. “I need to talk to you and Walt.” Danielle turned to Marie. “And I have a huge favor to ask you.”

  “What is it, dear?” Marie asked.

  “Can you go into the library and keep an eye on the artist when he returns? Right now he’s in the kitchen eati
ng a sandwich. And if he starts messing with the original portraits, let me know right away. I’ll explain everything later.”

  Marie frowned a moment, looking toward the closed door and back to Eva and Walt. Curious to find out what Danielle needed to tell Eva, she reluctantly gave a nod and then vanished.

  “What’s this about?” Walt asked. He sat on the arm of the sofa, smoking a cigar, while Eva sat in one of the chairs across from him. The two spirits looked at Danielle, waiting for her response.

  “It seems your artist did very well for himself,” Danielle began. She then went on to tell them what Ian had learned.

  “I knew Johnny was talented,” Eva mused. “I’m rather proud of him!”

  Danielle looked to Walt. “What do we do? Should we do as Lily suggested, and lock up the paintings now? Or wait until Clint makes a move? Assuming that’s his intention.”

  Standing up, Walt absently puffed the cigar and began pacing the parlor. After a few moments he stopped and turned to Danielle. “I’d like to wait. I want to know if my cousin is a thief.”

  “I agree.” Eva spoke up. “You need to let this play out—it’s a test of Clint’s character. I think that’s what the Universe would want.”

  Danielle arched her brow. “The Universe?”

  “It’s a feeling I have,” Eva explained. “Something else is going on here. I’ve felt it for some time now. Ever since I heard Walt’s cousin was coming. This is a test.”

  “A test?” Danielle asked.

  Eva smiled. “Despite what some people think, they’re not all tests. Sometimes it’s simply about free will.”

  Danielle frowned. “I don’t understand; what are you talking about?”

  “The Universe, dear. Sometimes it has its own plan.”

  “Are we talking God? What do you mean when you say universe?” Danielle asked. “Is there a god?”

  “Danielle, that’s for each of us to figure out—in our own time.” Eva stood up. “As for me, I’ll keep an eye on my portrait until you and Walt figure this thing out.” In the next moment, Eva vanished.

  Danielle didn’t find Chief Edward MacDonald at the office Saturday afternoon. She found him down at the beach with his sons, flying kites.

  “This looks like fun,” Danielle said when she reached Edward. He was watching his two sons, who stood about fifty feet away from him, each maneuvering a string holding a kite. “Don’t you have one?”

  He chuckled. “It’s enough helping those two with theirs. What are you doing down here?”

  “Looking for you.” Danielle watched the boys, impressed with their kite skills.

  “Me? How did you know I was down here?”

  “I tried calling you. But you obviously don’t answer your cellphone when you’re flying kites. So I stopped at the station; they said you were off today. I drove by your house. One of your neighbors said they saw you loading up your kites. Said you normally fly them down here.”

  “Putting your Nancy Drew skills to work again.” He grinned. “For the record, I didn’t ignore your call. The battery’s dead. In fact, I told the boys they only had ten more minutes. I don’t like being without a phone.”

  “Likely story.” Danielle grinned.

  “So what did you need to talk to me about?”

  “I just found out those portraits of mine could be worth millions. And I think Walt’s cousin might be planning to steal them.”

  Danielle sat with the chief in his living room while his sons were in the family room watching television and eating pizza.

  “I have to agree with Walt,” the chief said. “Only because if those paintings really are worth what you think they might be, strategically securing them while having your current guests under your roof might have some unforeseen consequences. It would be nice if we could just arrest them now, but they haven’t broken any laws. Of course, if Walt wasn’t there, I wouldn’t suggest letting this play out.”

  “Walt wants to find out if his cousin is a thief. Plus, this could all be a coincidence. After all, I did run into Clint and Stephanie at the cemetery, so he obviously is more interested in his family history than he first let on. I know he is a major jerk, but I just feel funny suddenly locking up the portraits, telling him they can’t finish the reproductions. I would rather they finish, leave—and if they are thieves, Walt will help deal with it. If not, then after they leave, we figure out what to do with the original portraits.”

  “I am a little concerned about the Eva Thorndike portrait. We need to let the Historical Society know what it’s worth. But once we tell them, it’s sure to be all over the news,” the chief said.

  “If it makes you feel any better, Eva’s keeping an eye on her portrait. If anyone makes a move on it, she’ll let us know.”

  It was decided that when they went to the Historical Society about Bonnet, they would tell them the chief had also just been informed. They didn’t want the Historical Society to question the police chief’s judgment in keeping that news to himself for over a week. This also meant Joe and Brian had no idea of the potential art heist.

  Marie and Eva took turns watching over Eva’s portrait at the museum. As the days went by, Clint, Stephanie, and Macbeth seemed oblivious to the existence of a local museum, much less a priceless painting on display there.

  During the beginning of their second week at Marlow House, Stephanie happened to try one of the Old Salts cinnamon rolls sometimes served with breakfast. Joanne had left a few sitting on a plate in the kitchen. After that, Stephanie talked Clint into eating breakfast at Marlow House. They discovered the breakfasts Danielle served far surpassed any served at the Frederickport restaurants they had thus far tried.

  Clint’s personality didn’t improve as time went on. The only person he seemed to care about was Stephanie. While they waited for Macbeth to finish the paintings, Clint and Stephanie spent their time taking walks on the beach, sightseeing, going to an occasional movie, and eating lunch and dinner out.

  Easter Sunday fell on their second Sunday in Frederickport. Danielle hosted an Easter dinner for her friends—something she liked to do at Marlow House so Walt could attend—and while she invited Clint, Stephanie, and Macbeth, they all declined her invitation, which didn’t bother her at all.

  While out and about, Clint and Stephanie occasionally ran into one of Danielle’s friends, and like Clint’s initial encounter with Adam and Lily, his personality didn’t improve. In a small town like Frederickport it didn’t take long before people started talking about the guests currently staying at Marlow House.

  Many in the small community had seen the portraits of Walt and Angela Marlow, and others, those who had not been to Marlow House, had seen his likeness online. They knew what Walt had looked like, and many recognized Clint as the cousin who had come to visit. Some Frederickport residents tried to introduce themselves to Clint. They received a welcome no warmer than what Adam and Lily had received.

  “So what do you want for your birthday?” Lily asked Danielle on Tuesday, the day before Clint and his group were scheduled to leave.

  “I just want my birthday to get here. That will mean Clint and the others will be gone, and all of this will be over!”

  “So Macbeth finished the paintings?” Lily asked.

  “It looks that way.” Danielle then added, “I can’t believe we didn’t slip and call him Macbeth.”

  “I know.” Lily chuckled.

  “A couple of times I caught myself. And it would have been all your fault!”

  Lily grinned at Danielle. “Sorry about that. So what about the art heist? Have they made any move to switch the portraits?”

  Danielle shook her head. “Not yet. But Walt’s keeping a close eye on the paintings. In fact, Marie’s in with him. That way, she can come tell me if they start to do something.”

  Sixteen

  Late Tuesday afternoon, Danielle sat in the living room reading a book. Although, truth be told, she wasn’t doing much reading. She kept glancing up at the open door
way leading to the entry hall. Walt and Marie were in the library keeping an eye on the original portraits, and as far as she knew, Macbeth was in his room, and Clint and Stephanie were upstairs in their room, packing. They were all leaving in the morning.

  Danielle didn’t realize how on edge she was as Clint’s departure neared, until the doorbell rang, and she about jumped off the sofa. Taking a deep breath, she closed the book she wasn’t reading, tossed it on the coffee table, and went to answer the door. It was Chief MacDonald. She assumed he was on his way home from work, as he was still in uniform.

  “I wanted to stop and see if you were okay,” he said in a whisper.

  Danielle glanced to the closed door leading to the bedroom where she had put Macbeth. “They’re all in their rooms.” Nodding toward the living room, she let the chief into the house.

  “Anything going on?” he asked when they walked into the living room.

  “No. Walt and Marie are in the library, watching the portraits.” Danielle took a seat on the sofa, while the chief sat across from her on one of the chairs.

  He started to say something but heard someone out in the hallway, so he stopped talking. Both he and Danielle glanced to the open doorway. A moment later, Clint Marlow stepped into the room.

  “Danielle, I was looking for you, I wondered—” Clint stopped talking when he noticed MacDonald sitting in the room. He stared at him a moment and then asked, “Is there a problem?”

  Danielle smiled at Clint and stood up. She motioned to the chief. “This is my friend Edward MacDonald. He’s the local police chief. I believe you met him briefly once, but he wasn’t in uniform then.” She smiled sweetly and watched as the chief stood up and shook Clint’s hand.

  “I didn’t realize he was the police chief,” Clint murmured.