cwilleford.theburntorangeheresy-第7节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


painting。　I　don't　mean　that　I　am　pletely　objective　either。　That's　impossible。　I　merely　try　to　be　most　of　the　time；　and　that　allows　me　to　go　overboard　and　be　subjective　as　hell　when　I　see　something　I　really　flip　over。〃
　　I　finished　the　last　of　my　drink　and　set　the　glass　down　a　little　harder　than　I　had　intended。　When　I　looked　up；　there　was　a　smile　on　Cassidy's　Irish　face。　Perhaps　he　had　been　baiting　me；　but　I　had　been　through　this　kind　of　probing　before。　It　was　natural；　in　America；　for　people　to　think　that　a　critic　had　been　paid　off　when　he　gave　some　artist　a　rave　write…up；　especially　when　they　didn't　know　anything　about　art。　But　Cassidy　knew　better。
　　〃You　know　all　this；　Mr。　Cassidy；　so　don't　give　me　any　undeserved　credit　for　integrity。　I　like　money　as　much　as　anyone；　and　I　made　more　money　when　I　taught　art　history　at　CCNY　than　I　do　now。　I'm　ambitious；　yes；　but　for　a　reputation；　not　for　money。　When　I　have　a　big　enough　reputation　as　a　critic；　then　I'll　make　more　money；　but　never　a　huge　amount。　That　isn't　the　game。　The　trick…and　it's　a　hard　one…is　to　earn　a　living　as　an　art　critic；　or；　if　you　prefer；　art　expert。　If　you　want　me　to　authenticate　a　painting　for　you；　I'll　charge　you　a　fee。　Gladly。　If　you　want　to　ask　my　advice　on　what　to　buy　next　for　your　collection；　I'll　give　you　suggestions　free　of　charge。〃　I　held　up　my　empty　glass。　〃Except　for　another　drink。　Or　is　the　bar　closed　for　me；　too？〃
　　〃I'll　get　the　bottle。〃　Cassidy　left　the　room　and　returned　almost　immediately　with　an　open　bottle　of　Cutty　Sark　and　a　plastic　bucket　of　cubes。　I　poured　a　double　shot　over　two　ice　cubes　and　lit　a　cigarette。　Cassidy　picked　up　a　yellow　legal　pad　from　his　desk；　sat　down　with　it；　and　unscrewed　the　top　from　a　fountain　pen。
　　〃I　don't　have　any　pictures　for　you　to　authenticate；　James。　And　I　didn't　intend　to　ask　you　for　any　advice　on　collecting；　but　since　you　made　the　offer；　what　do　you　have　in　mind？〃
　　I　decided　to　tell　him　about　my　pet　project。
　　〃Entartete　Kunst。　Degenerate　art。〃
　　〃How　do　you　spell　that？〃
　　I　told　him　and　he　wrote　it　on　the　pad。
　　〃It's　a　term　that　was　used　by　Hitler's　party　to　condemn　modern　art。　At　the　time；　Hitler　was　on　an　ethnic　kick；　and　the　official　line　was　folk；　or　people's；　art。　Modern　art；　with　its　subjective　individualistic　viewpoint；　was　considered　political　and　cultural　anarchy；　and　Hitler　ordered　it　suppressed。　Even　ruthlessly。　Then；　as　now；　no　one　was　quite　sure　what　modern　art　was；　and　it　became　necessary　to　make　up　a　show　of　'degenerate　art'　so　that　party　men　throughout　Germany　would　know　what　in　the　hell　they　were　supposed　to　prevent。　So；　in　July　1937；　they　opened　an　exhibit　of　modern　art　in　Munich。　It　was　for　adults　only；　so　no　children　would　be　corrupted；　and　the　exhibit　was　called　Entartete　Kunst。　It　was　supposed　to　be　an　example；　a　warning　to　artists；　and　to　people　who　might　find　such　art　attractive。　After　the　Munich　showing；　it　traveled　all　over　Germany。〃
　　I　leaned　forward。　〃Listen　to　the　names　of　the　painters　represented…Otto　Dix；　Emil　Nolde；　Franz　Marc；　Paul　Klee；　Kandinsky；　Max　Beckmann；　and　many　more。　I　have　a　copy　of　the　original　catalogue　in　New　York；　locked　away　in　the　bottom　drawer　of　my　desk　at　the　office。〃
　　〃Those　paintings　would　be　worth　a　fortune　today。〃
　　〃The　painters　are　all　a　part　of　art　history　now…and　any　of；　say；　Marc's　paintings　are　expensive。　But　suppose　you　had　every　painting　in　this　particular　show？　Every　German　museum　was　'purified。'　That　was　the　term　they　used；　'purified。'　And　the　painters　represented　by　the　show；　if　the　museum　happened　to　have　any　of　their　work；　were　removed。　Some　were　destroyed；　some　were　hidden；　and　some　were　smuggled　out　of　the　country。　But　to　have　the　original　traveling　exhibit；　and　it　would　be　possible　to　obtain　these　pictures　。　。　。〃
　　Cassidy　drew　a　line　through　the　two　words　on　his　pad　and　shook　his　head。　〃No；　I　could　never　swing　anything　like　that　by　myself。　I'd　have　to　get　a　group　together　to　raise　the　money；　and…no；　it　wouldn't　be　worth　it　to　me。　Any　more　ideas？〃
　　〃Sure；　but　you　didn't　ask　me　here　for　my　ideas　on　collecting。〃
　　〃That's　right。　Basically；　James；　you　and　I　are　honest　men；　and；　in　our　own　ways；　we　are　equally　ambitious。　One　dishonest　act　doesn't　make　a　person　dishonest；　not　when　it's　the　only　one　he　ever　performs。　That　is；　a　slightly　dishonest　act。　A　little　thing；　really。　Suppose；　James；　that　you　were　given　the　opportunity　to　interview〃…he　hesitated；　moistened　his　lips　with　his　tongue…〃Jacques　Debierue？〃
　　〃It　would　merely　set　me　up　with　the　greatest　exclusive　there　is！　But　Debierue　is　in　France；　and　he's　only　given　three　interviews　in　forty　years…no；　four…and　none　since　his　home　burned　down　a　year　or　so　ago。〃
　　〃In　other　words；〃　he　chuckled；　〃you　would　be　somewhat　elated　if　you　could　look　at　his　new　work　and　talk　to　him　about　it　personally？〃
　　〃Elated　isn't　the　word。　Ecstatic　isn't　strong　enough。　Now　that　Duchamp　is　dead；　Debierue　is　Mr。　Grand　Old　Man　of　Modern　Art。〃
　　〃Don't　go　on；　I　know。　Just　listen。　Suppose　I　told　you　that　I　could　make　arrangements　for　you　to　see　and　talk　with　Debierue？〃
　　〃I　wouldn't　believe　you。〃
　　〃But　if　it　was　true…and　I　am　now　telling　you　that　it　is　true…what　would　you　do　for　me　in　return？〃
　　My　throat　and　mouth　were　suddenly　dry。　I　tipped　the　plastic　ice　bucket　and　poured　some　ice　water　into　my　empty　glass。　I　sipped　it；　and　it　tasted　almost　warm。　〃You　have　something　dishonest　in　mind。　Isn't　that　what　you　implied　a　moment　ago？〃
　　〃No。　Not　dishonest　for　you；　dishonest　for　me。　But　even　so；　Debierue　is　in　debt　to　me；　if　I　want　to　look　at　it　that　way；　and　I　do。　I　don't　want　money　from　him；　I　want　one　of　his　paintings。〃
　　I　laughed。　〃Who　doesn't？　No　individual；　and　not　a　single　museum；　has　a　Debierue。　if　you　had　one；　you'd　be　the　only　collector　in　the　world　to　have　one！　As　far　as　I　know；　only　four　critics　have　been　privileged　to　see　any　of　his　work。　A　servant　or　two　has　seen　his　paintings；　probably；　I　don't　know…　maybe　some　of　his　mistresses　a　few　years　back；　when　he　was　still　young　enough　to　have　them。　But　no　one　else…〃
　　〃I　know。　And　I　want　one。　In　return　for　the　interview；　I　want　you　to　steal　a　picture　for　me。〃
　　I　laughed。　〃And　then；　after　I　steal　it；　all　I　have　to　do　is　smuggle　it　back　here　from　France。　Right？〃
　　〃Wrong。　And　that's　all　I'll　tell　you　now　until　I　get　a　mitment　from　you。　Yes　or　no。　In　return　for　the　interview；　you　will　steal　a　picture　from　Debierue　and　give　it　to　me。　No　picture；　no　interview。　Think　about　it。〃
　　〃Hypothetically？〃
　　〃Not　hypothetical。　Actual。〃
　　〃I'd　do　it。　I　will　do　it。　That　is；　I'll　steal　one　if　he　has　any　paintings　to　steal。　Everything　he　had　went　up　in　smoke　with　his　house；　according　to　the　reports。　And　if　he　hasn't　painted　anything　since；　well　。　。　。〃
　　〃He　has。　I　know　that　he　has。〃
　　〃You've　got　a　deal。　But　I　don't　have　the　money　for　a　round…trip　air　fare　to　France；　not　even　for　a　slow　freighter。〃
　　〃Let's　shake　hands　on　it。〃
　　We　got　to　our　feet　and　shook　hands　solemnly。　The　palms　of　my　hands　were　damp；　and　so　were　his；　but　we　both　gripped　as　hard　as　we　could。　He　got　the　humidor　and　offered　me　a　cigar。　I　shook　my　head　and　sat　down。　I　started　to　pour　another　drink；　but　decided　I　didn't　need　it。　My　head　was　light　and　close　to　swimming。　My　heart　was　fluttering　away　as　if　I　had　swallowed　a　half…dozen　dexies。
　　〃Debierue；〃　Cassidy　laughed。　a　snort　rather　than　an　actual　laugh；　〃is　here　in　Florida；　thirty…some…odd　miles　south；　via　State　Road　Seven。　And　that　is　my　so…called　dishonest　act；　my　friend。　I　have　just　betrayed　a　client's　confidence。　A　counselor　isn't　supposed　to　do　that；　you　know。　But　now　that　I　have；　I'll　tell　you　the　rest　of　it。
　　〃Arrangements　were　made　for　Debierue　to　e　to　Florida　more　than　eight　months　ago；　and　I　was　the　intermediary　here。　The　emigration　was　set　up　by　a　Paris　law　firm；　who　contacted　me；　and　I　handled　the　matter　on　a　no　fee　basis；　which　I　was　glad　to　do。　I　rented　the　house…a　one　year　lease…hired　a　black　woman　to　e　in　and　clean　it　for　him　once　a　week；　bought　his　art　supplies　at　Rex　Art　in　Coral　Gables；　and　picked　him　up　at　the　airport。　The　whole　thing。　He's　a　poor　man；　as　you　know。〃
　　〃And　you're　supporting　him　now？〃
　　〃No；　no。　The　money　es　from　Les　Amis　de　Debierue。　You　are…〃
　　〃I　send　them　five　bucks　a　year　myself。〃　I　grimaced。　〃It's　tax　deductible；　if　I　ever　make　enough　money　to　list　it　among　my　many　charities。〃
　　〃Right。　That's　it。　The　Paris　Amis；　through　the　law　firm；　send　me　small　sums　more　or　less　regularly；　and　I　see　that　the　old　man's　bills　are　paid…such　as　they　are…and　keep　him　in　pocket　money。　He　doesn't　need　much。　The　house　is　cheap；　because　of　the　rotten　location。　It　was　built　by　a　man　who　retired　to　raise　chickens。　After　six　months　of　trying；　and　not　knowing　anything　about　poultry；　he　went　back　to　Detroit。　He's　been　trying　to　sell　the　house　for　two　years；　and　was　happy　as　hell　to　get　a　year's　rent　in　advance。〃　Cassidy　smiled。　〃I　even　selected　the　old　man's　phony　name　for　him…Eugene　V。　Debs。　How　do　you　like　it？〃
　　〃Beautiful！〃
　　〃Better　than　beautiful。　Debierue　never　heard　of　Gene　Debs。　And　that's　about　it。〃
　　〃Not　quite。　How　did　he　get　into　the　States　without　reporters　finding　out？〃
　　〃No　problem。　Paris　to　Madrid；　Madrid　to　P