Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT OF THE FIREMarc locked the gallery doors.
The assigned guard’s phone went directly to voicemail.
Security footage showed him leaving through the service entrance with the sample case.
A black vehicle waited outside.
The license plate belonged to a delivery van reported stolen that morning.
Adrian called the police.
Vivian entered the office with an expression of concern.
“What happened?”
“The samples are gone,” Adrian said.
She widened her eyes.
“That is terrible.”
Chloe pointed at her.
“You knew the man.”
Vivian stared at the child.
“What man?”
“The one outside.”
“I saw no one.”
“You nodded.”
Adrian looked at his daughter.
“When?”
“When the doctor put Mommy’s blood in the envelope.”
Vivian laughed softly.
“She is tired.”
Chloe’s face tightened.
Sophie took her hand.
Vivian looked at Adrian.
“You cannot treat a five-year-old’s imagination as evidence.”
“No,” Adrian said. “But I can ask Marc to review the exterior camera.”
The camera showed Vivian looking across the street.
The man in gray raised his phone.
Vivian inclined her head.
The gesture was small.
It could be coincidence.
Combined with the missing samples, it was enough for police to question her.
Vivian’s attorney arrived before officers did.
She refused to make a formal statement.
A new DNA collection was scheduled at a police-supervised hospital.
This time, Vivian would receive no information about transport.
While they waited, Adrian returned mentally to the night of the fire.
The Beaumont restoration archive stood in an industrial building near Saint-Denis.
Sophie had gone there after dinner because a recently acquired painting required urgent inspection.
Adrian was in Geneva.
Vivian attended a charity event in central Paris.
At 11:40 p.m., the fire alarm activated.
By midnight, the upper floor had collapsed.
Investigators concluded an electrical fault ignited restoration chemicals.
Sophie’s handbag and jewelry were found near unidentified remains.
The dental comparison was inconclusive.
DNA identification came from Laboratoire Delacroix.
Adrian had never questioned it.
Grief made certainty feel merciful.
“What were you investigating?” he asked Sophie.
“The Blue Garden.”
“The painting?”
“I believed its ownership documents were forged.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t remember.”
Vivian stood nearby with her attorney.
Sophie looked at her.
“I found transfers from the Beaumont Arts Foundation into a restoration company.”
“Laurent Conservation,” Adrian said.
Vivian’s uncle’s business received millions for restoring damaged artwork.
The company dissolved after the fire.
Adrian had assumed it closed because Vivian’s uncle became ill.
“What did the forged provenance do?” Marc asked.
Sophie tried to reconstruct the scheme.
A cheap painting would be assigned a false history.
A restoration company would certify it.
The foundation would purchase or insure it at an inflated value.
Money moved through several private accounts.
The Blue Garden may have been the final proof.
Adrian looked at Vivian.
“You were the foundation’s legal adviser.”
“I reviewed contracts. I did not authenticate paintings.”
“You had access to every file Sophie requested.”
Vivian’s attorney interrupted.
“This speculation has nothing to do with her identity.”
Sophie’s memory sharpened.
“The metal case.”
“What case?” Adrian asked.
“The night of the fire, Vivian carried a silver case.”
Vivian shook her head.
“I was at the charity dinner.”
Sophie closed her eyes.
She saw the blue flowers.
The steel door.
Vivian placing the silver case beneath a table.
Then Vivian saying, You always needed Adrian to see you as the clever one.
Sophie opened her eyes.
“You locked the restoration room.”
“That is absurd.”
“You left me inside.”
Adrian’s face went pale.
Vivian looked toward the police officers entering the gallery.
“You have no proof.”
One officer approached with newly recovered traffic footage.
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A camera near the archive captured a red sports car arriving thirty minutes before the fire.
The vehicle was registered to Vivian Laurent.
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