could, but—” He held out his hands. “But you don’t want to hear this.”
Kim and Solly stood quietly, waiting.
“By then I was trying to hold onto his work. Buying his paintings myself because I knew they were undervalued. I brought them back here and just waited for the price to go up. Now they’re worth thirty, forty times what they were. And it’s still a seller’s market.” He turned back toward the Autumn . “Look at that; you ever see anyone with that kind of range? Maybe Crabbe. Maybe Hoskin. No, not Hoskin.” He shook his head vehemently, dismissing Hoskin.
“Did you by any chance know Kile Tripley?” asked Kim.
“Tripley? No. Tripley lived in a villa well away from everybody else. He was above spending time with the common people.”
“Would you say he and Kane were friends?”
“Not particularly. No.”
“He was Kane’s employer,” said Kim.
“That’s not the same thing as being a friend.”
Kim was having a hard time keeping her eyes off the Autumn . “One more thing, Mr. Gould,” she said. “I’m interested in what caused his dark period. Did you sense there was anything other than the explosion that might have influenced his later work? A lost woman, perhaps?”
“I know he was affected by what happened to her .” He looked meaningfully at Emily’s image.
“Did he say that?”
“You can see it in his work. But he never outright said it, no.”
“Anything else?”
“Not other than what I’ve told you. He just more or less went into a shell. Rattled around inside that big house. Sealed off the den, even.”
“Sealed off the den? How do you mean?”
“It had been, I’d stop by, we’d go into the den, have a few drinks. He’d tell me about his latest project. The living room was a formal, stiff place where he didn’t like to go. Then suddenly we were always in the living room and I never sawthe den again. I don’t suppose it meant anything, but it was strange. As if he were hiding a woman in there.”
They had dinner at a place called The Rucksack. Snow was beginning to fall and a crisp wind had blown up. Solly plowed steadily through the meat and greens. “As soon as we’re finished here,” he said, “I think we ought to get going.”
“Yeah. Before the weather gets any worse .” The predictions called for the snow to stop around midnight, and for colder temperatures to set in.
“I’m surprised at your choice of artwork,” said Solly.
“Why? It’s quite attractive.”
“I’d have thought you’d have wanted one with Emily. The Autumn . You seemed taken by that.”
She lifted a wine glass and watched it sparkle in the light from the fireplace. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I wanted something I could hang on the wall.”
Solly looked at her. “Is it still that painful?”
She shrugged. “That. And the nudity.”
“I didn’t think you were a prude.”
“I am,” she said, “when the model looks too much like me.”
Solly had been a friend for a long time. Kim felt especially drawn to him that night, perhaps because he’d come with her even though, despite what he said, he thought she was pursuing an illusion. Well, they both thought that.
That night, standing beside him on the walkway overlooking Eagle Point, with the snow blowing and the Severin Woods just downriver a few kilometers, she nearly suggested that they spend the night together. Forget the ghost. But when Solly mentioned that it was late and they should get going, she put the thought aside, and fastened her jacket.
4
…The most famous of the apparitions is undoubtedly the Severin Phantom, which haunts the ruined village whose name it bears. There have been more than two hundred confirmed sightings over the last quarter century. Several deaths have been attributed to it. Today, few persons are foolish enough to venture into the valley after dark.
—T ERI K APER, Legends of the Northwest, 597
It was after eleven-thirty when they lifted off the
Kim and Solly stood quietly, waiting.
“By then I was trying to hold onto his work. Buying his paintings myself because I knew they were undervalued. I brought them back here and just waited for the price to go up. Now they’re worth thirty, forty times what they were. And it’s still a seller’s market.” He turned back toward the Autumn . “Look at that; you ever see anyone with that kind of range? Maybe Crabbe. Maybe Hoskin. No, not Hoskin.” He shook his head vehemently, dismissing Hoskin.
“Did you by any chance know Kile Tripley?” asked Kim.
“Tripley? No. Tripley lived in a villa well away from everybody else. He was above spending time with the common people.”
“Would you say he and Kane were friends?”
“Not particularly. No.”
“He was Kane’s employer,” said Kim.
“That’s not the same thing as being a friend.”
Kim was having a hard time keeping her eyes off the Autumn . “One more thing, Mr. Gould,” she said. “I’m interested in what caused his dark period. Did you sense there was anything other than the explosion that might have influenced his later work? A lost woman, perhaps?”
“I know he was affected by what happened to her .” He looked meaningfully at Emily’s image.
“Did he say that?”
“You can see it in his work. But he never outright said it, no.”
“Anything else?”
“Not other than what I’ve told you. He just more or less went into a shell. Rattled around inside that big house. Sealed off the den, even.”
“Sealed off the den? How do you mean?”
“It had been, I’d stop by, we’d go into the den, have a few drinks. He’d tell me about his latest project. The living room was a formal, stiff place where he didn’t like to go. Then suddenly we were always in the living room and I never sawthe den again. I don’t suppose it meant anything, but it was strange. As if he were hiding a woman in there.”
They had dinner at a place called The Rucksack. Snow was beginning to fall and a crisp wind had blown up. Solly plowed steadily through the meat and greens. “As soon as we’re finished here,” he said, “I think we ought to get going.”
“Yeah. Before the weather gets any worse .” The predictions called for the snow to stop around midnight, and for colder temperatures to set in.
“I’m surprised at your choice of artwork,” said Solly.
“Why? It’s quite attractive.”
“I’d have thought you’d have wanted one with Emily. The Autumn . You seemed taken by that.”
She lifted a wine glass and watched it sparkle in the light from the fireplace. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I wanted something I could hang on the wall.”
Solly looked at her. “Is it still that painful?”
She shrugged. “That. And the nudity.”
“I didn’t think you were a prude.”
“I am,” she said, “when the model looks too much like me.”
Solly had been a friend for a long time. Kim felt especially drawn to him that night, perhaps because he’d come with her even though, despite what he said, he thought she was pursuing an illusion. Well, they both thought that.
That night, standing beside him on the walkway overlooking Eagle Point, with the snow blowing and the Severin Woods just downriver a few kilometers, she nearly suggested that they spend the night together. Forget the ghost. But when Solly mentioned that it was late and they should get going, she put the thought aside, and fastened her jacket.
4
…The most famous of the apparitions is undoubtedly the Severin Phantom, which haunts the ruined village whose name it bears. There have been more than two hundred confirmed sightings over the last quarter century. Several deaths have been attributed to it. Today, few persons are foolish enough to venture into the valley after dark.
—T ERI K APER, Legends of the Northwest, 597
It was after eleven-thirty when they lifted off the
Similar Books
