Masterpiece (18 page)

Marvin crawled back under the shadow of James’s
collar to contemplate this. It had been brave to show himself to James at the beginning of this whole adventure, after he had made the drawing. But it hadn’t been very wise, probably. He thought of Dürer’s four drawings:
Justice, Fortitude, Temperance, Prudence
. If you had to choose one virtue, which would be the most important? Was it better to be wise or brave? Reasonable or fair? Marvin decided that the answer to that question might depend on your situation.

“Are you ready, James?” Denny asked. He raked his fingers through his gray hair and smiled encouragingly.

“I guess,” James said. Marvin thought he didn’t sound ready at all. Karl walked around the table to stand next to him, studying the drawing.

“Don’t worry, James,” Christina said. “It’s more important to be relaxed than to make an exact copy. The key to a good forgery is that sense of ease . . . making the lines smooth and fluid, not halting. Do you know what I mean?”

She crouched next to James, and Marvin immediately scooted farther under the collar, remembering the last time she’d caught sight of him. He could smell her mild, soapy scent, and he noticed again how lovely she was, with her smooth cheeks and shining hair.

Denny said softly, “Every drawing tells a story. It talks to you.”

Together, they all gazed at
Fortitude
. Clutching the jacket fabric, Marvin noticed the tension in the girl’s
sturdy body, the way the lion seemed to both lunge and recoil at the same time.

A breathless hush settled over the room. The noise of rush-hour traffic on the street below seemed miles and miles away. Marvin felt as if they’d all been hypnotized.

Finally, Denny spoke. “Dürer’s paintings can sometimes seem quite cold,” he commented, still transfixed. “But not his drawings. His drawings are full of humanity.”

Christina paused. “But there’s always something held back. It’s almost as if he couldn’t bear to expose his tender imagination.”

Marvin understood that feeling. It was as though, in his subjects, Dürer saw something unbearably fragile and beautiful, and he had to steel himself to protect it from the heartless world.

After a minute, Christina turned back to James, her voice coaxing and gentle. “All right, James, take as long as you need. We’ll check back in an hour or so, okay? Here’s the brown ink.” She slid a small glass jar across the table and carefully positioned one of the manuscript pages next to it.

“Oh, and let me clean off your pen. We can’t have any trace of your old ink on it.” She opened the flat case and lifted James’s pen from its snug resting spot, motioning Denny toward a bottle of clear fluid on her desk. “Denny, pass me that, will you?”

Christina poured the solution onto a handkerchief and dabbed the metal nib of the fountain pen. Then she
placed the pen back in its case, turning to James expectantly. “Okay?”

Karl bent to hug him. “What do you say, buddy? All set?”

“Yes,” James answered. This time, Marvin noticed, his voice didn’t waver at all.

“Good man,” Denny declared.

And with that, the three adults left the room.

W
hen they were gone, James immediately tugged back his jacket cuff, looking for Marvin. When he didn’t see him, he checked under his collar. “There you are, little guy,” he said, relieved. “Do you think you can do it? The real drawing is right here. Look at it.” He plucked Marvin from his nylon perch and gingerly lowered him to the table.

Marvin crawled over to the frame, climbing onto the glass of the original. He memorized the way the two figures leaned into each other, the shape they made on the page. He remembered what Karl and Christina had said of his earlier drawing, that the image was too squashed. He would do better this time.

“Did you hear what Christina said about that guy Dürer?” James asked. “All that stuff about the way he drew? Maybe that will help you make your picture look more like his, you know?”

He shook the jar of ink, then unscrewed the cap and
set it down next to the blank paper. Inside was a glossy, mud-colored puddle, shot through with glints of reddish gold.

Marvin took a deep breath. He crept to the edge of the cap. He plunged his front legs into the ink, then slowly backed over to the manuscript page and began to draw.

It felt as if time stopped. Marvin was so focused on the work that he lost a sense of everything around him, including James. The walls of the room seemed to disappear. The table floated away. There was only the page and the ink and
Fortitude
.

He worked quickly, making fluid, delicate strokes. The girl took shape before him, with her strong back, her muscular arms. The lion collided with her in a sinewy, angry mass.

Marvin moved back and forth between the original
and his own drawing, checking proportions and scrutinizing the smallest details: the lace trim of the girl’s gown, the plume of the lion’s tail. The center of the paper blossomed in a dense cross-hatching of fine brown lines.

James said nothing, watching wide-eyed from inches away.

Marvin drew and drew. His eyes burned from concentrating on the drawing, his legs ached.

“It’s been an hour,” James whispered at one point. “They’ll be back soon.”

Finally, exhausted, Marvin wiped off his front feet and collapsed on the edge of the paper to survey his work.

“Oh!” James gasped.

His face split in a huge, wondering grin. “You did it.”

Marvin looked at his drawing. It was tiny and beautiful, bursting with energy and life. In every contour, in the least of its details, it
was Fortitude
.

He knew in his heart that he could do no better. He hoped it would be good enough.

There was a quiet knock at the door. “James?” They heard Christina in the hallway. James looked questioningly at Marvin. Marvin ran across the table and onto James’s wrist, ducking under his sleeve.

“I’m—um, I’m finished,” James called.

Christina, Denny, and Karl filed slowly into the room.

They walked silently to the table and surrounded James, staring at Marvin’s drawing. For a moment, the room was so still it seemed frozen.

Christina spoke first. “Do you know what Dürer said?” she asked, and Marvin could hear the emotion in her voice. “
The treasure secretly gathered in your heart will become evident through your creative work
.” She paused. “This drawing is beautiful, James. It’s more than a copy. You’ve made it Dürer’s, but also your own.”

Beneath the jacket cuff, Marvin shuddered with joy.

“It’s amazing,” Denny said, shaking his head. “Truly
amazing. I wouldn’t have believed it possible if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“Do you hear that, buddy?” Karl threw back his head and laughed, as if happiness were bubbling up inside of him and forcing its way out. “You’re wowing the experts now. I’d call
this
a masterpiece.”

James blushed a deep, bright pink, biting his lip. He turned to Christina. “Do you think other people will believe it’s the real thing?” he asked.

“I don’t
think
so,” Christina said firmly. “I
know
so.”

“So what do we do now?” Karl asked.

“You don’t do anything,” Christina said, smiling at him. “But I have a great deal to do. I have to arrange for a burglary.”

Karl’s eyes twinkled at James. “Something tells me a masterpiece is about to be stolen.”

C
hristina said it would take at least a week to work out the details of the burglary. She’d cleared her plans with the museum’s director, the FBI’s stolen-art unit, and the New York City police—“That took some convincing, I can tell you,” she said—but there were still certain details to be resolved. Denny was working on getting clearance from the Getty, even though the real
Fortitude
wouldn’t be at risk.

“Nothing will happen until next week at the earliest,” Christina told James as he and Karl prepared to leave. Marvin looked longingly at his finished drawing. What if he never saw it again?

James appeared to be thinking the same thing. He turned to Karl and tugged his father’s shirt. “What if something goes wrong and we never get it back?” he asked.

Karl looked at Christina. “Well . . .”

“There’s always that danger,” she said soberly. She
crouched next to James and took his hand. Her slender fingers were so close to Marvin that he could have reached out to touch one. Christina had beautiful hands, he thought: graceful but competent, the kind that seemed equally capable of painting a picture or wielding a hammer.

“I’m sorry, James. I wish I could promise that your drawing will be safe, but I can’t.”

James was quiet for a minute. “Then I want to come back and see it one more time,” he said finally.

Marvin felt a wave of relief. Maybe he wouldn’t have to say good-bye to
Fortitude
just yet. Denny looked at James in surprise, but Christina nodded understandingly.

“Of course. It will be here in my office till next week. Why don’t you come on Thursday or Friday?”

“Can we, Dad? Please?”

Karl hesitated. “I’ll have to ask your mother, James. It’s fine with me, but I don’t know what her plans are.”

James bit his lip anxiously. “I hope we can come.”