Chapter 4 April

At the beginning of the month, a piece of news shocked the art world.The windows of the Fanshawe Gallery were all upholstered in black velvet.A small oil painting, stripped of its missing gilt frame, was displayed alone on a small shelf behind glass, brightly illuminated by two spotlights above it, and beside it were two burly Bodyguards guard day and night. This poplar wood egg tempera painting is just as it was when the painter finished it, and the oil paint is as bright as it was when it was just blended five hundred years ago. The Virgin Mary sits in the picture looking up in a daze, and the Annunciation Angel Gabriel brings her good news: she will soon be pregnant with the Son of God.Professor Guido Colenso, the well-deserved authority of the Siena School of Painting in the world, had declared ten days ago that this painting was authentic.No one will comment on Colenso's judgment.

A small note under the painting simply read: "Sassetta, 1400 to 1450".Stefano di Giovanni di Consorlo, known as Sassetta, was one of the master oil painters of the early Italian Renaissance.He founded the Siena School and influenced two generations of Siena School and Salorenza School painting masters who followed him. Although very few of his works have been handed down, and they are mainly relatively large altarpieces, their value is more expensive than diamonds.Because it was the first time to discover a single piece of "Annunciation" created by this master, Fanshawe Gallery became a world-class art collector in one fell swoop.

Ten days earlier, Reggie Fanshaw had sealed the sale of the painting for more than £2 million in a secret agreement.The split was done quietly in Zurich, and both of them improved their respective financial situations. The art world was stunned by the discovery.So did Benny Evans.He checked the catalog of auction transactions on January 24, but there was no record.He asked what was going on, and learned that it was the last item added.The atmosphere inside Darcy's Mansion was hostile, and he encountered many accusing glances.Word spread. "You should have brought it to me," snapped a disgraced Sebastian Mortlake. "What letter? No letter at all. Don't tell me that. reports and valuations.”

"Then you must have seen me mention Professor Colenso." "Colenso? Don't mention Colenso. It was that Fanshawe guy who asked for Colenso's opinion. Listen, boy, you're mistaken. It's a real treasure. Fanshawe found it, and you Missed it." Upstairs, the board of directors is holding an emergency meeting.The acerbic chairman, the Duke of Gateshead, sat in the chairman's chair, while Peregrine Slade sat in the dismissal.The other eight directors were scattered around the conference table, all carefully examining their fingers.No one raised any objections, and the powerful Darcy House not only lost its commission of about 250,000 pounds, but also handed over an authentic Sassetta that had already arrived to a wise eye at a low price of 6,000 pounds. People who know the goods.

"It's my business, and my responsibility," said Peregrine Slade quietly. "We all know that, Perry. Before jumping to conclusions, can you tell us exactly how it happened?" Slade took a deep breath.He knows he is speaking for his career now.Find a scapegoat.He didn't want to make himself a scapegoat.But he knew that the whining and blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. "As you all know, we provide free identification services to the public. It's done every time, and it's a Darcy House tradition that some people agree with and others don't. Regardless of people's views, the fact is that doing It takes a lot of time."

"Sometimes a real gem is indeed brought in by the public, and it's authenticated, authenticated, sold for a good price and of course we get a big commission. But most of the items that people bring in are junk .” "The heavy workload, especially understaffed on Christmas Eve, means that the most shabby gadgets are appraised by junior assessors with less than thirty years experience in the business. That's what's happening here with us." "The painting we're talking about was handed in by someone who didn't take it seriously. He didn't know what it was, or he would never have taken it. It was in a very Horrible condition, so dirty you can hardly see what was painted under the dirt. And it was appraised by a very junior appraiser. Here is his appraisal report."

He handed out copies of the report, estimated at £6,000 to £8,000, which he had worked on and typed out on his computer late that night.The nine directors began to read with serious expressions. "You see, Mr. Benny Evans thought it might be of the Florentine school, dated about 1550, by an unknown artist, and made a cautious estimate. Well, he was mistaken. Then It was of the Sienese school, painted by a master around 1450. He was blinded by the dirt of the surface. That is to say, his appraisal was very hasty, almost thoughtless. However, now It is me who takes the blame and resigns to the board of directors here."

Two people were staring intently at the ceiling, but six people were shaking their heads. "We don't accept that, Perry. As for that young man who is sloppy at work, perhaps we should leave him to you." That afternoon Peregrine Slade called Benny Ivans to his office.He did not seat the young man.The tone was very contemptuous. "You don't need me to explain. This incident has had a very bad effect on us at Darcy House. The news media has been blown up. People are all talking about it." "But I don't understand," said Benny Evans indignantly, "you must have seen my report. I slipped it under your door. I wrote to the point where I suspected it might be a Sasse The authenticity of the tower, as well as suggestions for cleaning and preservation, and a proposal to consult Professor Colenso. I included all of these in the report."

Slade coldly handed him a piece of letterheaded paper.Ivans began to read without knowing it. "But it's not mine. It's not my report." Slade turned white with rage. "Ivans, your sloppy work is bad enough, but I can't stand your babbling. Anyone who dares to lie to me like this has no place in this building. Go to Miss Bates in the outer office." .Clean the desk and leave in an hour. That's it." Benny tries to talk to Sebastian Mortlake.The benevolent department head listened for a few minutes, then led him to Deirdre's desk. "Please find the valuation report file for December 23rd and 24th," he said.The computer obediently displayed a series of reports for that time period, one of which was about item "D1601".It was the same report that Benny Ivans had just seen in Slade's office.

"Computers don't lie," said Mortlake. "You go, boy." Benny Evans may have had bad grades and may not know much about computers, but he was no fool.By the time he stepped onto the pavement, it was abundantly clear what had happened and how.He also knew that everyone was judging him, and that he would never be able to work in the art world again. But he still has a friend.Susie Day, a London native, was not traditionally beautiful, and her punk-teenage hairstyle and green-painted nails put some people off.But Benny liked it, and she liked him too.Benny spoke to Susie for an hour, explaining in detail what had happened and how.

Susie knew next to nothing about fine art, but she had another talent that was the exact opposite of Benny.She is a computer genius.If you throw a newly hatched duckling into the water, it will swim immediately.When she was studying, Susie, who was exposed to computers and the Internet for the first time, felt like a duckling in the water.Now she is twenty-two years old, and her skills in using computers are as good as Si's piano. She works for a small company owned by a reformed computer hacker.They design security systems to protect computers from unauthorized access.Just as the best way to pick a lock is to go to a locksmith, the best way to break into a computer is to turn to the person who designed the protection system.Suzy Day is the one who designed those defense systems. "So what do you want to do, Benny?" she asked when he had finished. Benny may have been a nobody from the small town of Bootle, but his great-grandfather had been a member of the Bootle Youth Team.The boys went to the conscription post in 1914 and became soldiers in the Lancashire Fusiliers.On the battlefield of Flanders, they fought bravely, and many young men died heroically.Of the two hundred young men who went to battle, only Benny's great-grandfather and six others returned.Ancestral genes are stubborn. "I can't spare that bastard, Slade. I'm going to blow him up," he said. In bed that night, Susie had an idea. "There must be another person who is as angry as you about this matter." "Who?" "Original owner of the painting." Benny sat up. "You're right, girl. He was scammed out of two million pounds. And he probably didn't know it." "Who is he?" Benny tried to remember. "I just glanced at the form that was handed in. It seems to be a man named Te Gore." "telephone number?" "Not filled." "address?" "I don't remember." "Where will the address be registered?" "In a database. In a vendor record or storage list." "Do you have access? Do you have a personal code?" "No." "who can?" "Senior staff, I suppose." "Mortlake?" "Of course. Sebe can consult any information he needs." "Get up, Benny. Honey, we're going to work." It took Susie ten minutes to log into the Darcy Building's computer database.She asks.The database asks the inquirer to provide an identification number. Susie kept a list beside her.What exactly was Sebastian Mortlake's name?Does he use the full name "S" "Seb" or "Sebastian"?Do you use lowercase letters, uppercase letters, or a mix of uppercase and lowercase letters?Between first and last names, is there a dot, a hyphen, or nothing at all? Susie tried a different format each time, but it didn't work, and the database rejected her.She prayed that the system didn't have a limit on the number of mistyped entries that would send a warning to Darcy Mansion and close the account if the limit was exceeded.Fortunately, the information technology experts who set up this system considered that most of Darcy's staff were old pedants, and knew that their computer knowledge was quite shallow, and they might forget the names they set up.The connection channels are still open. After the fifteenth attempt, she succeeded.The head of the painting master appraisal department used "seb-mort", which was all lowercase letters, the first and last names were shortened, and there was a half-word line in the middle.The Darcy Building database accepted "seb-mort"'s login and asked for a password. "Most people use names or numbers that are close or dear to them," Susie told Benny. "Wife's name, pet's name, the city they live in, a set of numbers they like." "Sebe is a bachelor, lives alone and has no pets. He only lives for famous paintings." They started experimenting with the Italian Renaissance, then moved on to the Dutch/Flemish School, followed by the Spanish Masters.At ten past four in the morning, as the spring sun streamed through the windows, Susie worked out the code.Yes, Mortlake used "seb-mort" and "GOYA".The database asks what she wants.She requested information on the owner of storage item number "D1601". The computer in Knightsbridge, sifting through the memory, told her: Mr. T. Gore, W. 12. 32 Chesunter Gardens, White City.Suzy deleted all traces of her hacking and shut down the computer.They seized the time to sleep for three hours. It was only a mile away, and they rode Benny's scooter across the waking city.It turned out to be a dilapidated block consisting of one-bedroom suites.Mr. T. Gore lives in the basement.Hearing a knock at the door, he came to the door in the old Spanish bathrobe. "Mr. Gore?" "Yes, sir." "My name is Benny Evans. This is my girlfriend, Susie Day. I am... I used to be from Darcy House. Last November, did you bring a little picture with a chipped frame?" old paintings for sale?" Trupington Gore seemed flustered. "Yeah. No problem, I guess? It sold at auction in January. Not a fake, I guess?" "Oh no, Mr. Gore, it's not a fake. Quite the contrary. It's kind of cold out. Can we come in? I have something to show you." The hospitable Truby shared his pot of morning tea with two unexpected guests.Since he got a windfall of more than 5,000 pounds three months ago, he no longer has to brew the teabag twice.As the two young men sat down to tea, he began to read the report that Benny had brought him, which took up a whole page in the Sunday Times.His jaw elongated. "Is this real?" he pointed to the color image of Sassetta's work. "It is true, Mr. Gore. That old painting of yours was once wrapped in a brown sackcloth. After cleaning and restoration, it has been identified as a very rare authentic Sassetta, of the Sienese school, created The date is about 1425." "Two million pounds," sighed the poor actor. "Oh, dear! If only I had known, if only Darcy had known." "Darcy knew," said Benny, "at least they suspected it then. I was the valuer on the painting. I warned them. You've been cheated and I've been ruined." Qiancheng was plotted against by a traitor who colluded with this gallery." He started from the beginning.The quantity of artworks that were handed in at the beginning was huge, and an overwhelmed department head left to go to the country for Christmas.When he finished, the actor stared at the picture of the Annunciation in the newspaper. "Two million pounds," he murmured, "with that I can spend the rest of my life in comfort. Of course, the law..." "The law sucks," Susie said. "The record will say that Darcy made a mistake, misjudged, and Fanshawe played servile, but he won in the end. That's what it is. The law can't help them." " "Please tell me," Benny said, "that you put 'actor' in the occupation column on the form. Is that true? Are you an actor?" "I've been in it for thirty-five years, young man. Been in almost a hundred movies." He refrains from mentioning it, and in most of these films, he only appears for a few seconds. "I mean, can you pretend to be someone and not get caught?" Though wearing an old, crumpled bathrobe, Trupington Gore straightened up proudly in his chair. "Sir, I don't get caught whoever I look like with anybody. That's my specialty. Actually, that's what I do." "Listen," Benny said, "I have an idea." He spoke for twenty minutes.After he finished speaking, the impoverished actor was thinking about it. "Revenge," he murmured, "is best taken calmly. Yes, it's over. Slade won't be on our guard any longer. Benny boy, I think I'd like to join you." He held out his hand and Benny took it.Susie put her hand on theirs too. "One for all, all for one. We work together." "Well, I like that," said Benny. "." Truby said. Benny shook his head, "I never knew much about French Impressionism." The rest of April is very busy.They pooled the funds together and completed the plan.After Benny obtained all of Peregrine Slade's private emails, he also needed to hack into his private address book. Susie chose to gain access to the Darcy Mansion's computer system through Slade's personal secretary, Miss Priscilla Bates.Miss Bates' electronic account was quickly tracked down.Her login name in the database was P-Bates, the problem was her password.

---

Notes: middle.