Page 7 of Portrait of an Unknown Woman
“On what?”
“How you answer my next question.”
“You want to know what really happened to my face?”
Gabriel nodded. “The truth this time, Julian.”
“I was attacked by a lamppost.”
“Another one?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Please tell me it was a foggy night in London.”
“Actually, it was yesterday afternoon in Bordeaux. I went there at the invitation of a woman named Valerie Bérrangar. She said she wanted to tell me something about a painting I sold not long ago.”
“Not the Van Dyck?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“Is there a problem?”
“I wouldn’t know. You see, Madame Bérrangar died in an automobile accident on the way to our meeting.”
“And the incident involving the lamppost?” asked Gabriel.
“Two men on a motorcycle tried to steal my briefcase as I was walking back to my hotel. At least I think that’s what they were doing. For all I know,” said Julian, “they were trying to kill me, too.”
