West: Erica’s Studio – Part 6

Thursday 24 – Saturday 26 October 2013

‘Excuse the mess. I’m working on a new piece, but you don’t want to hear about that,’ Erica spoke quietly as she patted Wade Aitcheson’s forearm. ‘What are the police doing? Have they found anything?’

Aitcheson shrugged his shoulders. In between the police interrogation – although they preferred to say he was giving a statement – and worrying about Nora, he had not managed to get any sleep at all. The night’s events were etched on his face, making him look far older than his fifty-two years of age.

‘They questioned me over and over again last night. What did I know about Nora’s disappearance? Had we argued? Did we have a good marriage? Was there anyone who might have a grudge against her? So many questions.’

Wade wandered around the studio, from artwork to artwork, looking but not really seeing what Erica had been painting. She was a prolific artist, so the studio was constantly filled with pieces that Wade had never seen before. It was like that today – pieces everywhere, and in various stages of completion. He wondered if he should have given up painting. It was an irresistible offer to become a gallery curator, but his passion had always been painting, and he had given it up at the drop of a hat just so that he could make money. A lot of money. Money that he would never have made had he painted for a living.

‘Wade, you haven’t answered my question. Have the police found anything yet?’ Erica’s voice jolted him back to Nora’s disappearance.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘The police. Have they got any leads?’

‘No, not that they’ve told me about,’ he replied. ‘But then, I don’t expect they’d tell me anyway because I am a suspect after all.’ His hysterical laughter frightened Erica. She’d been edging towards asking him about his involvement in Nora’s abduction, but was now thinking twice about that.

She decided to carefully word her question. ‘Why do you think someone would want to hurt Nora?’

He took the question well, and she was thankful for that. She was, after all, alone in the studio with a potential murderer.

‘I’ve been turning it over and over in my mind, but I can’t come up with anything. Nora didn’t have any enemies. And anyway, who would want to hurt her? She wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

Another thought crossed Erica’s mind. ‘What about you? Is there anyone around who might want to hurt you? You know, get to you through Nora?’

It wasn’t something that Wade had considered. What if someone was trying to get at him through Nora? If he hadn’t thought about it, had the police?

‘I . . . I’m just a curator of an art gallery, Erica. What possible reason would anyone have to want to get at me?’

Erica smiled.

‘What?’ Wade asked.

‘A curator of a gallery that constantly receives imports and exports. You could be useful. Maybe Nora is a bargaining tool to get you to do something, bring something in to the country, or send it out, without gaining the attention of the police or customs?’

‘But who?’

Erica wondered if there might have been something more to what Marvin Turner wanted than what he’d let on to her.

She decided it was a good time to come clean about Turner’s proposition to her. Wade slumped in the battered armchair in the middle of the studio as he listened to her recount. He knew Marvin had been up to his usual sleazy tricks, trying to coax artists away from the Rossini Gallery, and to the few galleries that Turner sourced work for. But he wouldn’t have Erica. Aside from the fact that Erica didn’t and wouldn’t turn her back on Wade, Wade himself wouldn’t allow her to leave the Rossini fold. She knew where her allegiances lay.

‘It was never an issue for me, Wade. I’ll go wherever you go, and that’s that,’ she confidently stated.

‘I appreciate that, Erica.’ He hugged her as he spoke, not because he thought she needed comforting, but more so because he needed it.

Wade’s mind quickly slipped back to Marvin Turner’s attempt at swaying Erica, and he resolved to find Turner and have a few harsh words with him. By the time Wade was done, Turner wouldn’t know what had hit him, and in the process, Wade thought, he might even find out something about what had happened to Nora.

. . . To be continued . . .