Artifact by Gigi Pandian Page B

he thought he’d been made. In a conspiracy, he’d have a back-up he could call.
    Lane set a fresh Bloody Mary on the table. I jumped in my seat.
    “You’re welcome,” he said. “I didn’t think you were the jumpy type.”
    “You were the one telling me conspirators are on the loose against me. You’ve got me seeing bad guys everywhere.”
    “It’s one theory.”
    “What did you find today?”
    His face lit up as he smiled. “I was right, Jaya,” he said. “I found it.”
     

Chapter 9

     
    “The treasure is there,” Lane said. “In a Mughal painting. I wasn’t just convincing myself that your piece fit with the story. The whole set is really there.”
    “That’s all? Your big news of the day is that you weren’t wrong about what you told me this morning?”
    He frowned. “I thought you’d see what a big deal it is. It’s true that your piece is from the collection that disappeared.”
    “I already believed you.”
    “Oh.”
    I was saved by the barbeque chef calling out my order. I sprang up to get it. I stopped to apply generous portions of condiments, and by the time I sat back down Lane had his burger as well.
    “What exactly did you find?” I asked.
    “I found where it existed before disappearing.”
    “Where? Can I see the painting?”
    “I didn’t find the painting itself,” he said. “Is that honey on your fries?”
    “Here I was thinking you cared about this great discovery.”
    “A reference,” he said. “An article referencing some exquisite ruby jewelry that has to be your set. The description fits. Even the timing fits. It was used as an example of Selective Realism to show how something was included in paintings that never really existed. The author was assuming the jewelry was fake, but it describes your bracelet perfectly.”
    “That’s the problem with scholars,” I said. “Everyone thinks they have everything figured out without any real proof. Both our fields are filled with some of the most speculative nonsense without facts to back up a hypothesis. If people had done their research properly, there wouldn’t be this mythical treasure that got Rupert killed. It would already have been in a museum.” I consoled myself with my burger.
    “I’m sure your tenure committee loves you,” Lane said.
    “Now that I have this ruby bracelet, who says I need tenure?”
    Lane looked across the table at me with an enigmatic expression. I rather thought it resembled respect.
    “I’m joking,” I said through a mouthful. “I know it’s not mine for the keeping.”
    “You’ll figure it out,” he said. His gaze lingered on my face. I thought I detected the briefest glance past me, but it was only the slightest flicker of his eyes.
    I felt a chill run through me as a breeze swept by. I readjusted the scarf around my neck.
    “You aren’t smoking,” I said.
    “You’re terribly observant.”
    “Why am I freezing out here if you didn’t even want to smoke?”
    “Oh,” Lane said, starting to pull off his jacket. “Do you want my coat?”
    I waved off the offer.
    “I only smoke when I need to think,” he said.
    “What else was in the shoddy article you found?”
    “How much do you know about the Mughals’ cultural pursuits?”
    “They were Muslims from central Asia,” I said, “They arrived in India before the British, and many of them were important in granting concessions to the British for trade. Not just Jahangir, although he was the first, right at the height of the Mughal Empire before their decline.”
    “And their art?”
    “You know I don’t know anything about their jewelry,” I said. “I do know a little about Mughal architecture. Like Shah Jahan’s romantic story of the Taj Mahal. The supposedly great love story of how the Taj Mahal was built for his wife. How this ambitious and war-hungry leader, who bankrupted the masses to build extravagant palaces, loved his wife so much that he built her a lavish tomb after she died giving birth to their