The Rembrandt Secret Read Online Free PDF Page A

the heavy work. Have you got a driver’s licence?’
    Teddy nodded. ‘Car and LGV.’
    ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any references?’
    ‘Only from Strangeways,’ Teddy had replied, finally smiling. ‘Look, I want to make a life down here. I’ve put the past to rest. The old Teddy Jack doesn’t exist anymore. I didn’t want to keep company with him no longer.’
    ‘I’ll put you on a month’s trial. If you’re reliable and a good worker, the job will be permanent. But it might change, over time,’ Owen had said, frowning. ‘You know, circumstances, events. Things change. Needs change.’
    Without hesitating, Teddy had put out his hand. ‘I’m Edward Jack. Teddy Jack.’
    Owen had taken the proffered hand and shaken it, smiling with genuine charm. ‘And my name’s Zeigler, Owen Zeigler.’
    At once Teddy’s eyes had flickered.
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘I know about you,’ Teddy had replied, distantly amused.
    ‘Heard quite a lot about you and your gallery, in fact—’
    ‘—because the bastard I’ve just walked out on is Tobar Manners.’
    The month’s trial had been up before anyone had realised, and it was never referred to because within four weeks Teddy had created a niche for himself and wasn’t going anywhere. Having learnt from past experience, he had made sure that this time he wouldn’t become the favourite and alienate his co-workers. So he had treatedthe older porters, ex-Guardsmen Lester Fox and Gordon Hendrix, with respect and kept out of their way. In fact, Teddy had kept out of
everyone’s
way and concentrated on the Zeigler Gallery instead. He had repainted walls, mended the staircase and taken on some of the basic plumbing.
    ‘What now?’ Owen had asked one night, coming into the basement to watch Teddy mending a broken packing crate.
    ‘Needs fixing.’
    And fixed it had been. Whatever it was, if it needed fixing, Teddy had fixed it.
    That spring had passed fast, left without anyone noticing, until the smoky hot summer flush of 1994 had swung her broad hips round the London streets … Teddy thought back, remembering how the smog had cluttered the interlinking alleyways and shops off Bond Street, snaking around the dowager terrace of the Museum of Mankind and dozing at the entrance of Burlington Arcade. As the hot red London buses had veined their circulation through the city, Albemarle Street had marinated itself in a series of triumphant art sales. And as a Matisse trumped up the already inflated prices, the stalwarts of Dutch art had made their re-entry.
    In that eerie quicksand of a summer Owen Zeigler had taken Teddy Jack to one side and, as though it was a matter of little importance, asked him to watch someone. Just watch them, take notes and report back, nothing much. Then later Owen asked him to follow them, thenbug their phone … It was the first of many times Owen asked Teddy Jack to break the law.
    Uncharacteristically unnerved by the memories, Teddy Jack looked round and sipped at his tea. He thought briefly of leaving London and then changed his mind, thinking instead of what he knew. Of what Owen Zeigler had told him. Of the confidences he had carried for years.
    …
I’m looking for someone I can rely on, even lean on perhaps.
    They had liked each other, both knowing more about the men they really were, behind the images the world believed. Flattered and needed, Teddy had been the ideal support, the perfect ally, the furtive spy.
    And perhaps the only man alive who knew
all
about Owen Zeigler.

4
    Knocking over a folio of prints as he turned, Samuel Hemmings cursed under his breath. With an effort, he bent over in his wheelchair to pick up the sheaf of papers, slapping them back down on his desk, a mug of coffee slopping liquid over the rim as he did so. Unperturbed, Samuel wrapped his dressing gown tightly around him, the droplets of coffee dribbling down his front as he sipped at it. Outside, the winter garden shook its spindly fist at him. Leaves were