I extend my apologies to you all, for I had indeed neglected to inscribe the remainder of the tale. Nevertheless, for your sake, I shall endeavour to compose a summary. This shall hopefully serve as a splendid means to prevent my esteemed readers from succumbing to boredom whilst turning page upon page of discourse that exceeds the intended time by around twenty minutes.
Whitney, with respect to her reunion with Phillip, had bestowed him a charitable fund to facilitate his needs of lodgings and to secure gainful employment. This endeavour met with success, as he first embraced the role of a sentinel at a club adjacent to the seaside. However, upon learning from Whitney that the PrimeYarc gallery faced the dire prospect of theft and sought the services of a watchman, he did not delay in reaching out. He, in a moment of boldness, ventured to propose a second chance at romance; alas, she had already entered into matrimony with my Uncle Hugo.
The primary motive I swiftly figured for his abrupt motivation regarding the position was, in truth, to acquire ever greater riches in the interval. This was not derived from the employment itself, but rather from the profits he thought of procuring through the bestowal of aid in the thieve and sale of the esteemed gallery treasures. For instance, the twin masterpieces by Hockney and Warhol.
Whitney and he had engaged two souls, previously unsuccessful in their attempts to acquire gainful employment and riches, to partake in the bid. This stratagem was devised with the belief that these aides would bear the blame, thus sparing themselves from culpability. Yet, it was unmistakably my sister's keen observation and Phillip's grave blunder that averted such an unfortunate outcome.
To summarise, Whitney was apprehended yesterday by two constables and conveyed to the station for scrutiny and further interrogation. Such matters were not ones in which Mara chose to partake. Rather, she seized the opportunity to transport herself into the kitchen, thereby availing herself of the chance to impart her deductions regarding the culprits she had discerned. I followed her suit, desiring to soak in all the knowledge within my reach.
"Pray, allow me to elucidate my deeds," she commenced, extracting a slice of bread and placing it within the toaster adjacent to her. "On the morning of my return to my familiar abode upon the East Coast, I utilised my own funds to gain entrance into several establishments of charitable nature. I ventured into a shop designated YMCA and visualised a pair of light blue denim dungarees that harmonised perfectly with the spirit of a fated artist and employee.
I discharged the payment for them, ventured once more to my lodgings, and set about adorning them with a white modest shirt that happened to be at hand. This, along with a subtle alteration of my visage and coiffure, became the essence of my disguise.
I then devoted the afternoon of that self-same day to refining my creations that I had commenced, taking care that they appeared authentic and of a professional standard. This persisted until the hour of eleven at night.
The following day, being the 8th of this month, I arose at an early hour and, as per request, entered the hallowed premises of the gallery at seven o'clock in the morn, attired in my white shirt and blue dungarees. In my hands, I bore a sketchbook, a pencil, and a counterfeit CV.
I entered with much excitement, akin to a young child upon the morning of Christmas, and proceeded to pass by Phillip on route. In my peripheral vision, I observed him casting about, then directing his gaze towards myself. Yet, upon viewing me, his countenance transformed into one of palpable apprehension.
That was hint one.
I did engage in a skipping motion with my feet, and beheld Charles in his full character, mirroring my own, conversing as though we were once more estranged." Up to this juncture, misfortunes befalled when Mara's slice of toast had been reduced to a crisp. Instead, she prepared a cheese roll for herself, partaking of it at the table. Thus, she proceeded with the narrative.
'"What is your name, young miss?" inquired Charles.
"Sophie Dawson," I responded, modulating my voice to a more delicate pitch. "I have come here for my interview."
"Ah, indeed! I have awaited your arrival, Sophie!" he declared, enthusiastically clapping his hands and ushering me into his office. He closed the door behind, secured it, and, in a conspiratorial whisper, continued, "I am most pleased to see you, Mara. Do you believe this endeavour shall succeed?"
"I do possess a sense of assurance that it shall progress smoothly. Now, proclaim loudly that I have secured the position."
"Most certainly," he affirmed, clearing his throat and resuming his role, unfastening the door. "It would bring me immense pleasure to offer you the role, dear Sophie," he declared. "When might you be able to commence?"
I reverted to my heightened tone. "Would today suffice, sir?"
"Indeed, that would be splendid." His gaze fell upon the curriculum vitae beside a note. "Ah, and do you possess a work that seems fit for the gallery? How wonderful! You have my permit to depart to retrieve it and behold it on display." He swung the door open, revealing Phillip concealed behind, eavesdropping on our discourse.
That was hint two, and the ultimate provocation.
"Thank you!" I exclaimed, clutching my possessions as I gleefully exited the gallery and retraced my steps to my lodgings.
With this intelligence, the scheme was necessitated to be modified. The original design was to loiter overnight in order to apprehend the miscreants amidst their nefarious enterprise. However, with Mr. Phillip already possessed of sufficient knowledge of my guise, I was prompted to act with alacrity. Hence, I expended considerable effort to draft an alternative stratagem. This was to feign the theft of my work, to raise a considerable uproar in the presence of the general populace, and subsequently to summon the constabulary to effect the arrest of Phillip without delay.
It came to fruition, and I found success. Yet, Mr. Charles could not quite conceal the astonishment that registered upon his countenance upon discerning Phillip's complicity. An air of trepidation enveloped Phillip when I, accompanied by two constables, commenced our inquiries.
This ensued for some time until I proffered the ensuing question, "Pray, why did you exhibit such agitation upon beholding my countenance? Were you aware of my identity?"
"No," he admitted. "You… You merely reminded me of another."
"Who shall that be?" inquired one constable. "Who, do tell, Phillip!"
I observed him struggle to suppress a sudden constriction in his throat. "There exists a lady whom I have known since my youth, who has likewise been entangled in this trial and error."
"And what, may I ask, is her name?"
He inhaled deeply and responded, "Whitney. Whitney Downer."
My mouth fell slightly agape at this revelation. The constables beheld my expression and mused, "Are you acquainted with this woman, Miss Coleman?"
"Indeed," I uttered, a swell of indignation and disbelief rising within me. "She is my aunt."
And that, dear brother, was how I figured out Phillip and our Aunt's involvement in the case.'
"It now is all abundantly clear to me," I declared, having lent a most earnest ear to her discourse. "But, what about the paintings? Have they been restored to their rightful ownership?"
"As we speak, they have been withdrawn from the merchant subsequent to explaining the matter, and are soon to grace the gallery once more."
A smile unfurled upon my visage at this revelation. "That is wonderful news!"
"And do you desire to learn something else?" I inclined my head in acquiescence.
"Charles has recently gazed upon the artwork I have executed, and has permitted for it to be displayed most prominently in the gallery, in celebration of the occasion."
"Even more splendid news, dear sister!" I exclaimed joyfully. I propelled my chair forth to her side, and leaned to offer a heartfelt embrace of congratulations. She welcomed the gesture, beaming with delight at both my act and of her own triumph.