“The client told me Sophia didn’t keep her paintings in her studio or in her apartment on the second floor, but the security system was unusually sophisticated for a building without valuable art. So I searched the studio and the upstairs apartment and discovered why it was protected like the New York Fed’s gold vault.”
Kenzie put her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Sounds like your nose was twitching. I know you wouldn’t break into a woman’s apartment without cause. McBain, on the other hand, would do it in a heartbeat. But I believe I know where this is going.”
“And you’d be right,” Pete continued. “In the living room, I discovered a fake wall. It took a while to find the point of entry, but I finally got the door open. Inside was a narrow room with these…” He clicked the share button on his laptop and a photograph of Sophia’s five portraits was projected on the portable screen.
“She’s captivating,” Kenzie said.
“Yes, she is.” Pete’s heart rate shot up just seeing the paintings. He had looked at them dozens of times, but seeing Sophia on the large screen tore him up.
“The painting the client wanted to pick up was a copy of the Mona Lisa. He didn’t tell me how much he paid her to paint the copy, but he said her paintings sold between two and three hundred thousand euros.”
David whistled. “She must be good.”
“Are those self-portraits?” Kenzie asked.
“No.” Pete walked over to the screen, and using a pointer, said, “This portrait is signed by Leonardo da Vinci.”
“A forgery?” David asked.
“I don’t know.” Pete pointed to the second one. “This portrait is signed by Picasso, this one by Donatello, this one by Rubens, and this one by Degas.”
Kit joined Pete in front of the screen and examined the portraits closely. “If these are forgeries, and I assume they are, they’re extraordinary. An artist must be extremely talented to paint like both da Vinci and Picasso. Their inspirations were different, medium was different, canvas was different. But some will tell you they have a great deal in common. But still…” Kit backed away, but remained standing, chewing on her lower lip, while she continued to stare at the paintings.
Pete returned to his laptop and flipped to the next slide in his presentation. “I found this box in a small safe under her desk.”
David immediately went over to the screen and stood to the side next to Kit. “Anything inside?”
“Yes and no.” Pete switched to the next slide showing the inside of the box, and everyone around the table shoved to their feet.
“Jesus Christ!” Amy said. “My diamond was in there.”
“Charlotte’s sapphire, too,” Braham said.
“And my emerald,” Kenzie said.
“Is this woman related to Mr. Digby?” David asked.
“Good question,” Pete said. “Her late grandfather was Seamus Digby, a solicitor in Edinburgh.”
There was stunned silence, and everyone dropped back into their chairs.
“I’ll be damned,” David said. “The fourth brooch in the box appears to have been a pearl. Do ye think yer friend used it to go back somewhere?”
Kit returned to her seat, visibly shaken. “If this artist has a brooch, then she’s gone back five times, and those portraits are real. She’s actually met da Vinci, Picasso…Rubens. And sat for them.”
“Six times,” Pete said. “But this adventure hasn’t ended well for her. She’s always come back in exactly two weeks. She’s now a week late.”
“Where do ye think she’s gone?” David asked.
Pete shook his head. “I don’t know. I found emails about a spring research trip to Paris. But there’s no information about artists or time periods or anything like that.”
Kenzie opened her laptop and typed. “Da Vinci was from the sixteenth century. Donatello from the fifteenth. Rubens from the seventeenth. Picasso from the twentieth century. Degas from the nineteenth. Looks like she’s missing an eighteenth-century artist. Any ideas?”
“First thing that jumps out to me is they’re all men. Weren’t there any female painters?” David asked.
“There weren’t any remarkable female painters in America until the nineteenth century,” Kit said. “But there were several famous ones in Europe in the eighteenth century.”
“Wait a minute,” JL whispered over the speaker phone. “I don’t remember her name, but there was an eighteenth-century painter who had an affair with Thomas Jefferson.”
“Where’d you hear that?” Pete asked.
“From Lisa Harrison.”
“Who’s she?” Kenzie asked. “Where have I been that I’ve missed so much?”
David smiled at her. “Ye’ve been busy, babe.”
“Lisa and Robert Harrison have a preemie in the NICU,” JL said. “She knows Pete and Sophia from her high school days in the city. Anyway, she was reading a book the other day about a female artist. Lisa’s not here right now or I’d ask her.”
“I’ll google it.” Kenzie typed on her laptop. “The woman was Maria Cosway and the affair happened in 1786 in Paris.”
“When was the French Revolution?” Kit asked.
“1789,” Jack said.
“It started then, but it lasted ten years,” Matt said. “Jefferson left Paris a few months after the storming of the Bastille and returned to America to become Secretary of State.”
“He met his second wife while he was in Paris. Wasn’t she an artist?” Jack asked.
“She was an American, and returned with him,” Matt said. “They married after the government moved from New York to Philadelphia in 1790.” He paused and glanced at Pete. “Her name was Sophia Frances Orsini and she signed her paintings S.F. Orsini.”
Pete slammed his fist on the table. “That’s impossible! My Sophia’s name is Sophia Frances Orsini, and she signs her art S.F. Orsini. Are you telling me—?”
He couldn’t speak past the knot in his throat. He cleared his throat again and again. Then in a hoarse voice asked, “Are you telling me Sophia went back in time and married Thomas Jefferson?”
“I’m looking at a picture of Jefferson’s wife,” Kenzie said. “And she could be the twin of the woman in those paintings.”
“I don’t think she’s a twin, Kenz,” David said. “I believe Pete’s Sophia and Jefferson’s Sophia are one and the same.”
Elliott abruptly knocked on the table. “We have another Mallory Conundrum here. This meeting is adjourned and will reconvene at seven o’clock. Bring me solutions.” He gathered his laptop and phone, then he and Meredith left the room.
Everyone else stayed seated, too stunned to speak. Pete poured a whisky at the sideboard, tossed it back, and poured another. Sophia married Thomas Jefferson. How was that possible? He downed a second drink before returning to his chair, carrying a third.
“What’s the Mallory Conundrum?” Elizabeth asked. “I don’t understand what’s happening, and I don’t like it when that happens.” She pushed back from the table. “I’m going to talk to Meredith.”
“Cullen and I are scheduled to take the kids fishing,” Braham said. “We have to go, but we’ll discuss the situation and bring our thoughts to the meeting at seven.”
“Amber and I have to get to the studio,” Daniel said. “We have a cooking show to tape. We’ll be back tonight.”
“We’re signing off,” JL whispered. “Lawrence needs our attention. We’ll call back when we can. Are you coming up here, Pops?”
“Maria and I will be there in an hour,” he said.
“Looks like most of us have other things to do right now,” Olivia said. “Connor can stay, but I have a doctor’s appointment.”
“No, I’m going with you,” Connor said.
Kenzie eyed them suspiciously. “Do you two have news? You weren’t drinking last night, Olivia. What’s up?”
“We don’t know for sure. If we have an announcement, we’ll make it tonight.”
Matt kissed his daughter’s cheek.
“I hope you get good news.”
“Me too, Dad.”
The others who had called in remotely clicked off with promises to call back in at seven, leaving Pete, Matt, Kit, Jack and Amy, and David and Kenzie at the table.
Jack refilled his teacup and spooned in some sugar, then leaned against the sideboard sipping the brew. “If Pete’s Sophia married Thomas Jefferson, we can’t go get her. We could screw up two hundred years of American history.”
“Possibly world history,” Matt said.
“Maybe she screwed up history and we need to reverse it,” Kenzie said. “I changed history when I went back to 1944, but it was only my family history. Sophia would have known what happened in the world for the next two hundred years. She could have tweaked something. There could have been a war she helped Jefferson steer clear of. She could have given him a piece of information, like how to find South Pass. How did Jefferson know that? He told Lewis and Clark exactly where to go to get through the Rockies.”
“Maybe we would have gotten into another war with Britain in the early 1800s if not for some incredible diplomacy by Jefferson based on information from Sophia,” Matt said.
“Elliott was right. This is the Mallory Conundrum,” Jack said. “It happened to me. Talk about a screwup. When I went back in time without Charlotte and was hanged for conspiring to kill Lincoln, I changed our family’s history. When Charlotte and David went back to rescue me, they stopped the hanging, and our family history stayed the way it was before my execution. But it was too late for Charlotte, because she grew up knowing a Mallory had participated in the conspiracy. It’s a conundrum.”
“It sure as hell is,” Kenzie said. “When I changed my family history, I came back to a father I didn’t know. He had suffered from being the son of a traitor. But after I saved my grandfather, his history was rewritten, and he was a hero. I still have trouble believing my father is as warm and loving as he is now.”
“Charlotte carried her history back in time with her, like we all do when we travel. When she saved me,” Jack said, “she kept my history from changing, like I said. The Mallorys weren’t persecuted, the plantation house wasn’t burned, the property wasn’t confiscated, even though it was the history she knew. It was hard for her to accept that the Mallorys were an honored and revered Virginia family.”
“As far as Charlotte knew, the Jack Mallory who conspired to kill Lincoln was reviled as a villain in the American psyche,” David said.
Pete shivered. He didn’t know where this discussion was going, and he didn’t like it at all. Without JL and the rest of the O’Gradys at his side, he was adrift with people he hadn’t grown up with and didn’t know as well.
But he had to ask. “What if Sophia went back in time, told Jefferson about the Civil War, and convinced him when he became president to enact legislation to free all enslaved people? We would know a world where that war never happened and the racial division in our country didn’t exist. Would we want to undo that?”
“But the war did happen, so we know she didn’t influence him,” Kenzie said. “God knows we studied it enough at West Point.”
“But what if she had? We never would have been taught about the Civil War in high school because it never would have happened. When we find Sophia and she asks if she changed anything, we’ll have to compare histories.”
“This is giving me a headache,” Kenzie said. “Matt, Jack, and I were history majors, so we know Thomas Jefferson married Sophia Frances Orsini, a brilliant artist. But most people, even if they know who the third president was, probably don’t know his wife’s name.”
“I didn’t,” Pete said. “I mean, I’ve heard of Martha Washington, Jackie Kennedy, and then the ones in the last couple of decades, but other than those women, I couldn’t give you any other names.”
“Here’s a question for the other two historians in the family,” Kenzie said. “When Sophia was First Lady, she officially named the building the White House, and the term became a metonym for the president and his advisors. If she never becomes First Lady, what’s the White House called?”
Jack let out an exasperated sigh. “We can’t answer any of those questions until we find her.”
“That’s why Elliott didn’t want to have a meeting,” Pete said. “He used Lawrence as an excuse, but it wasn’t the entire reason. He knew about the conundrum. He knew it all. I don’t know how, but he did.”
“I know Sophia was torn from yer arms as a young woman, and it broke her heart as well as yers,” Elliott said from the doorway. He moved farther into the room. “I won’t allow this family to break her heart again. Once is enough. Once is enough for ye, too, Pete.”
“What about Jefferson?” Kenzie asked. “His heart was broken when he lost his first wife. If he’s in love with Sophia, taking her away from him will break his heart again. Do we have a right to do that? And maybe they are soul mates. Maybe Sophia stayed because it’s where she wants to be.”
“And maybe she doesn’t,” Pete said. “Maybe she married him because it was the best option available to her in 1790. Maybe she wanted to come home but couldn’t. I agree with Elliott. This time she has to be given a choice. She’s not in love with me. In all these years, she never called or wrote, and in all honesty, I didn’t write or call her either, but she does have a life here and a very successful career.”
“None of us want to hurt the lass or the president, but we have to know for sure if she’s there by choice,” David said.
“Tread softly.” Elliott turned to leave but wavered slightly and grabbed the door frame.
David rushed to his side. “Do ye need help?”
“No,” Elliott said. “The doc changed my meds, and I’m a little wobbly. I’m going back to Charlotte’s house to lie down.”
“Elliott, wait,” Pete said. “I have to know when you found out about Sophia and me.”
“I had ye thoroughly vetted, as I’ve done with all of ye. It’s my job as Keeper to protect the stones. I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect them and the family.”
“When did you know Sophia married Thomas Jefferson?”
“About ten minutes after ye told me she’d disappeared.” Elliott pointed at the two portraits at opposite ends of the dining room. “These are S.F. Orsini paintings. Sophia has been in this room in another time.” He went over to the window and tapped it. “She was married here and etched her initials on this windowpane. We’re all connected, Pete. Be careful what ye change. It could have a direct impact on all of us.”
And with that, Elliott left them again.
Amy went to the window and ran her finger over the etching in the pane. “Jack, there’s an SFO etched in the glass next to my initials. I remember noticing them at the time and having one of those someone-is-walking-over-my-grave sensations. Those of us who don’t go on this adventure can stand here and watch Sophia’s initials disappear.”
“Or not.” Jack stood behind Amy, wrapping his arms around her and gently rubbing her small baby bump. “I was so proud that day. It meant—and still means—so much to me to have someone who loves me and wants to be a part of the Mallory tradition.”
She turned in his arms and kissed him. “Thank you for wanting me.”
David cleared his throat. “Either get a room or come back to the meeting.”
Jack sat down in the chair Elliott had vacated and pulled Amy onto his lap. “You have our full attention.”
“I recommend a small party of adventurers go back for Sophia,” David said. “I want Jack and Matt on the team because they’re historians. They’ll be able to debrief Sophia. It’ll be imperative for her history and our history to be compared—”
“I’m going too,” Pete said. “You’re not leaving me out.”
“Okay,” David said. “But Jack and Matt must compare histories, figure out what changed. If Sophia altered the future in a significant way, she can’t come home.”
Can’t come home.
Shivers chased over Pete’s s
kin, and he had to sit down. Leaving Sophia behind was unacceptable. He didn’t give a damn about history. “I won’t leave her there.”
“Based on what Matt and Jack discover, ye might have to.”
“That’s bullshit,” Pete said. “If Sophia changed history, then by leaving, history will revert back to what it should have been.”
“I agree with Pete,” Jack said. “I’m not going to make a value judgment about what is best for history. I firmly believe we don’t have the right to change anything. Sophia needs to come home.”
“Hold on a minute, Jackson,” Kit said. “I spent three decades living in the nineteenth century, and, while I didn’t enjoy every minute, I never regretted my decision. If Sophia wants to stay, you have to trust that she’ll do what’s best for the country.”
“You’re willing to give her the option to decide what’s best, but not me?” Pete asked.
“This is about love,” Kenzie said. “We’re arguing about the wrong thing. The brooches bring soul mates together. If Thomas Jefferson is Sophia’s soul mate, we need to butt out. Period.”
“S.F. Orsini has an incredible body of work. Not everyone knew she was Thomas Jefferson’s wife,” Matt said. “She made Jefferson very wealthy and allowed him to free all his slaves. Matter of fact, a painting was just found in a house in Long Island. It’ll be auctioned off, and the owner will make a fortune. Her paintings are worth millions.”
“Oh, God. What a frigging mess,” Kenzie said.
Jack stroked his hands up and down Amy’s arms. “This must be like it was when Charlotte discovered what happened to me.”
“Ye only changed yer family’s history. If ye’d stopped the assassination, then we would have had a serious problem,” David said.
“Jack, why don’t we go over to the resource center and review Jefferson’s history,” Matt said. “We can pinpoint major events. Maybe we can identify areas that could have changed because of Sophia’s influence.”
“If Sophia doesn’t marry Thomas Jefferson, and returns to the future, all her paintings will vanish. Can you imagine what a loss that would be to the art world?” Kenzie said.
“A huge loss,” Kit said. “We can’t be responsible for that.”
The Pearl Brooch Page 47