A deluge of inquiries consumed Mara's mind, transcribing themselves upon the parchment before her as she reclined upon the bed in profound reflection. Amongst these queries were the more conspicuous;
What series of events might have precipitated the vanishing of these esteemed paintings? What motive prompted the abandonment of the picture frames? What could have rendered those particular artworks the focus of such theft? How perchance could they have gained entry to the premises if all had been examined and fortified?
With such inquiries inscribed upon her mind, she devoted the ensuing hours of her eve to the pursuit where her talents most flourish. She devised a stratagem and pondered upon the manner in which it could intertwine with the unfolding tale. In the meantime, she ensured that she maintained communication with the gentlemen in attendance for their esteemed feedback and engagement regarding the matter at hand.
The morn dawned as she was roused from her slumber by a telegram of solicitude from the two Hendersons. Upon adjusting the lamp adjacent to her to a more suitable illumination, she perused the subsequent missive;
Dear Miss Coleman,
It is with delight that we express our fondness for the notions that you have secluded to the table, and we wish to proceed with the designs at hand. We should be most pleased to receive your presence at any hour between seven and ten in the morning tomorrow. Alas, a matter of import necessitates our attention post ten, thus an earlier hour would be most commendable.
See you soon.
With regards.
Mr Samuel and Charles Henderson.
The gentlemen had afforded her the boon to adequately prepare for the forthcoming assembly. She retrieved an antiquated sketching pad, once employed during her years as an adolescent scholar, turned to a pristine page and commenced to sketch and paint a creation of her own. Whilst drawing inspiration from the styles of both Hockney and Warhol. She harboured the hope that this would serve as the final product in the pursuit of unveiling the enigmatic burglars in question.
After numerous drafts, endeavours, and trials, the piece was at length rendered complete for its grand unveiling. The course of action was thus delineated; Have the gallery proffer a new position for a distinguished guide for the public., set up by the two Hendersons. Present oneself for an 'interview' amidst those of esteemed reputation, and thereby secure the elevation. Pass the initial days as an employee within the gallery, becoming acquainted with the establishment to the utmost degree. Establish a fictitious delivery of the recently crafted composition, and exhibit it for public view. Remain inside post-closing hours, with the hope of apprehending the scoundrels in the act. Upon their capture, escort them into the staff chamber for interrogation, flanked by inspectors and officers.
In the initial stages, she resolved to embark upon a well-deserved promenade in search of inspiration. The principal locales were St. George's Park and the cemetery beyond St. Nicholas Church. Both sites abounded in a delightful diversity of natural forms, including trees, verdant meadows, and the lively fauna of squirrels. These for her were the perfect insights of how she could have used Warhol's ideas. Thus, being moved by the renowned likeness of the late Marilyn Monroe.
Setting aside the explanations, the creation was truly a most exquisite piece, serving admirably as a lasting homage to the town of our former residence.
Do you believe it accomplished its intended purpose? Well, permit me to enlighten you regarding the subsequent developments of this affair. Ere long, the day arrived which had been pledged to my sister. She presented herself at the very portals of the gallery at half past seven in the morning, greeted by a surprise most unforeseen.
Laying eyes upon the scene, she beheld with astonishment that the entirety of the edifice was beset with water, the consequence of a most unwelcome leak descending from the ceiling above. What struck her most profoundly, however, was the disheartening absence of any painting or work of art, in stark contrast to her previous visit. She was only able to behold such sights through the panes, as no individual was granted entry inside.
Upon her rear, the sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears, and beheld the sight of a distraught Charles as she turned. "A complete calamity," he exclaimed, placing his hands before his visage, obscuring his view of her astonishment. "I cannot figure how this affair has transpired, yet I vow that it was neither I nor my husband."
"I fully comprehend your vexation, and I hold no belief of you or him as suspects." She assured him with a gentle touch upon his shoulder. He then unveiled his countenance and swept her into a fervent embrace, profusely conveying his gratitude as she did reciprocate with delicate taps upon his arm.
In a swift moment, she perceived the notable void of a particular gentleman. "Where is Samuel?" Charles extricated himself from the embrace forthwith, and began to retreat with a measured pace.
His countenance underwent a most alarming transformation, shifting to one of utmost panic and dawning apprehension. "He cannot be! Good heavens, may he not be there!" The urgency of his countenance, the agitation of his manner, and the sudden alteration of his voice compelled her to entertain the notion that indeed, something was amiss. Charles dashed past her towards the entrance of the edifice, thumping upon the glass in desperate need for admittance.
Mara, filled with concern, shortly followed and commenced to survey her surroundings for any possible means of entry. Presently, a thought did manifest within her mind.
"Remain precisely where you are," she commanded. "I have conceived an idea. Be vigilant for any who might lend us assistance." He acquiesced in understanding whilst remaining vigilant of his surroundings.
She withdrew from the exterior of the gallery, advancing towards the fore of the indoor market, where there lay a yellow caution sign warning of treacherous surfaces. She folded it, secured it beneath her arm, and returned to the gallery.
"Have you found any assistance?" she inquired upon her return.
"No, Miss. None," came his reply. It was evident that his anxious state had escalated to one of sheer panic over the brief interval of her absence. "What is the purpose of that object you bestow?" he asked, perceiving the sign clasped beneath her arm.
"I have never been one to contravene the law. Yet, for this endeavour, it is our sole hope in preserving your husband's life."
"What, you are not to embark upon this! We cannot sustain another substitute. We have already endured considerable losses from relinquishing the rights to the paintings."
"I shall cover all expenses," she vowed promptly. "Now, remain vigilant for the security officer whilst I engage in this endeavour. We would not wish to find ourselves within his company at this present moment."
And with that, she commenced her endeavours to wield the sign in hand to shatter the glass that enveloped her. After a crack or two, the glass doors at last met with a gratifying shatter upon the ground. Without a moment's hesitation, he dashed through the breach. Meanwhile, she unfolded the sign and propped it beside the fractured glass before hastening after Charles.
Upon her entrance, she perceived the considerable difficulty of ambulating, much less running within the premises, due to the water that enveloped her. Set aside was this trifling matter, for her foremost concern lay in the quest for the two Hendersons. She traversed every nook and cranny of the chamber, yet they eluded her.
Then, as if prompted by fate, her gaze alighted upon an object distinctly floating atop the water's surface. With great effort, she endeavoured to extract it from the depths, yet could only procure a mere fragment. Most curiously, despite its drenched state, it appeared to convey a singular word;
ONLY:
Her initial contemplation was to inquire within herself as to the origin of that mysterious source and what the object at hand may have been. She surveyed her immediate vicinity in search of both elucidation and the faint hope of glimpsing at least one of the gentlemen.
Yet, it suddenly dawned upon her as she cast her eye upon the very spot where she had taken repose two days hence. "The staff room!" she exclaimed, seized by an unexpected sense of urgency. With all the haste she could muster, she proceeded towards the staff room.
At last she had turned up at the door of the room after struggling with the ever rising waters now surrounding her ankles. Luckily, the door had already been opened, so knocking wasn't necessary. The unluckiest thing was what was to come.
At length, she had arrived at the threshold of the chamber, after grappling with the incessantly rising waters that now lapped at her ankles. Fortuitously, the door stood already ajar, rendering the act of knocking superfluous. Alas, the most unfortunate events were yet to unfold.
She proceeded, with measured haste, and glanced about the room. She then allowed a breath of relief to escape upon beholding the back of Charles' head. Yet, when she called forth his name to ascertain his state, she was met with silence. With renewed determination, she ventured forth towards him.
Her expression changed from a state of confusion, to shock, and empathy. "I am so sorry."
After a protracted interval of contemplation, Charles, at length, did stammer, "It cannot possibly be him. It simply cannot be so."
She turned her gaze upon him, acutely aware of the lump forming in her throat. "I fear it is true," she replied.
At that juncture, it appeared the weight of realization bore heavily upon him, for tears began to cascade forth. Instead of offering the customary pat upon his shoulder, she encircled him in a heartfelt embrace. Herself overcome with grief for one whose life she had borne the responsibility for, yet did not succeed in preserving.