The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 16th October, 1834 - Chapter 2

Sep 10, 2011 13:50








Chapter 2: A Saturday Trip to the Museum

The next Saturday Peter got permission from the Powells and his own parents to take Neal to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. They rode out to Philadelphia on a public bus and walked the rest of the way to the Museum.

“So now what do you want to do?” Peter asked as they stood in the lobby of the museum. He got a brochure and shuffled through it. “Do you know where this painting is?”

“The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 16th October, 1834,” Neal said. “It should be around here somewhere; it’s been a year or two since I’ve been here, so they might have changed it around from where it used to be.”

“So where would it be now?” Peter asked.

“Let’s join a tour,” Neal said as he caught sight of a group of people huddled around one woman. “That way we can see more than just that painting.”

“You do know that I’m going to be going here in just a couple of weeks, right?” Peter asked. “I’m not that interested in art to go twice.”

“Well, we’re going to have to wander around anyway, so we might as well go with a group,” Neal said. “You can do whatever you want with your eyes, but sometimes it’s good to see the same piece of art multiple times. You’re always going to see something new each time around.”

“How many times have you been here anyway?” Peter asked, looking around the lobby once more.

“Probably at least ten or so more times,” Neal said. He grinned at Peter. “I used to be able to slip in for free amongst school trips, so I got to see a lot of the paintings here.”

Peter shook his head. “I can’t imagine coming here that many times.”

“I like art,” Neal said with a shrug. He then nodded towards the huddle of people. “That’s the best group to join, sine it’s a mixture of people, we won’t stick out so much. I could still slip in amongst a school trip, but you’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

“If we have to,” Peter said, shooting Neal a look about sticking out. Peter led the way over to the tour and joined edge of the group.

A minute of waiting later and the tour guide looked around. “Is that everyone? This way, please.”

Neal bounced in excitement as the tour started off. He knew that Peter was giving him odd looks, but he didn't bother to mask his excitement. With the sour faces that Peter was still sporting for having to join the tour group, it looked just like they were siblings with the older sibling forced to take his younger brother to the museum.

As they went on the tour, Neal inspected every painting, logging in the details once more. Even Peter found himself looking at the paintings and talking them over with Neal as they went along. Neal hid his smile at that and started telling Peter various facts of the paintings that they were seeing.

“You know a lot about art,” a man commented when they finally reached the Romanticism part of the museum. Neal looked over, surprised, and Peter put his hand on Neal’s shoulder.

“What makes you say that?” Peter asked.

“I could hear you explaining things to your brother, sorry for eavesdropping,” the man replied. “My name’s Reese Hughes.”

“Peter Burke and this is Neal,” Peter said. He reached out and shook Hughes’ hand.

“My brother isn’t that interested in art,” Neal said. “But he wants to impress the girls in his class, so I’m teaching him so that he can surprise them with that information.”

Peter tightened his hold on Neal’s shoulder in revenge for the comment that hit a bit too close to home. “Sorry about my brother. If he’s bugging you, I’ll tell him to shut up.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Hughes said. “I think it's a good thing to have such young people be interested in art.”

“There are so many good pieces here,” Neal said. His eyes lit on a piece and he started walking over, ignoring the fact that Peter still had the hand on his shoulder. “Like that one over there.”

“You like that one?” Hughes asked. He came over to join Peter and Neal in front of the painting. “The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 16th October, 1834, by Joseph Mallord William Turner.”

“I like fire,” Neal said. He got close to the painting and started inspecting it. He was sure that it was a fake and e was able to pick out several characteristics that showed that it was a fake. Small brush strokes that went the wrong way, the presence of a wrong colored paint within the painting; all things that showed that it was not the original one. Of course, he couldn’t count on Peter’s eyes seeing and realizing what the small details meant, so he had to come up with the absolute trump card that would prove that the painting was a fake.

“It has a history behind it,” Hughes said.

“It was an actual fire that the artist witnessed back on the same date as in the title,” Neal muttered, only halfway paying attention as he looked for the tiny detail. He bit back an exclamation as he finally found the mark that Professor Albright had made on the painting. Now he had absolute proof that it was a fake, now he only had to wait to show Peter the mark and explain what it meant.

“They’re moving on,” Peter said, tugging on Neal’s shirt. Neal looked up with Peter, wanting to protest, but then saw Peter glance over at Hughes.

“There are some even cooler paintings in the other room,” Neal said. “Do you think that you need to take notes or something? Are you sure that you’ll remember it all?”

“Well, some of this stuff is rather easy,” Peter said. He started walking and Neal followed him, leaving Hughes to trail behind them. Peter wailed until they were far enough away from Hughes before he hissed, “And I’m not trying to impress a girl.”

“If you say so,” Neal said, sounding a bit doubtful in order to rile Peter up.

Peter growled, but couldn't say anything more as Neal started explaining the story behind another painting in the next room. Despite himself, Peter paid attention and Neal smirked to himself. Peter was definitely trying to impress some girl in his class, in order to sit through this all when he clearly wasn’t that interested in it.

They went through the tour and Neal halfway noticed that Hughes stuck with them through the entire tour. He didn't crowd in on them and he only spoke to them a couple of times afterwards, but he seemed to be listening to Neal’s lecture with interest. Neal shrugged it off, though, confident in Peter’s ability to keep them out of trouble. There were several people who were interested in just listening to the people who knew about paintings, so Neal didn't really worry.

Hughes was dropped from their mind as they finished the tour. They ducked out of the rest of the tour guide’s speech as they finished in front of the gift shop and headed back towards the Romanticism room where Turner’s paintings were.

Just before they reached the paintings, Neal stopped in front of another and pointed it tout to Peter. “We spent so much time in front of The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 16th October, 1834 that I didn’t get a chance to show you this one.”

Peter looked at it. “It looks like the other one that in Professor Albright's office, but it has different colors.”

“You heard him say so himself, Turner painted several paintings from the one watercolor that he made when he first witnessed the fire. This is another version of the same painting.” Neal looked close at the painting. “This is the original version, so he hasn't gotten this one yet.”

“I’m still not convinced that he has the other one,” Peter said, crossing his arms.

“I thought that you would say that, so I found proof,” Neal said. He went over to the other painting and motioned for Peter to join him. Once Peter did, he pointed to the corner of the painting. “Look in that specific spot and tell me if you can find the proof.”

“Proof?” Peter asked. He raised his eyebrow at Neal, but he leaned over and investigated the corner of the painting that was almost in Neal’s eye line. He looked for several minutes, tracing his fingers over the air in front of the painting, since he couldn't touch it.

Neal waited patiently while Peter looked at the painting. He glanced around while he waited, watching all of the people who were still in the room. They were absorbed in the paintings, people who chose to go around on their own to really experience the art, so no one was really paying attention to them. Neal knew that they looked a bit strange, but he also knew that no one would really notice, although he hoped that Peter would find it soon. “Maybe he did too good a job in hiding it,” Neal finally said.

“Why don't you show me, then,” Peter said. He straightened up and motioned to the painting. “It all looks like blobs of color to me.”

“That is why I am sure that you’re just in that class because of a girl,” Neal said. “Because you totally do not get art.”

“Just show me,” Peter said. “What is this proof that you’re talking about?”

Neal glanced around to make sure that there wasn’t anyone watching and he pointed directly at the mark. “There it is. Can’t you just see the initials T.A?”

Peter leaned down once more and stared at the painting. Finally he started and straightened back up. “There is something there, the T.A.”

“What’s your professor’s full name?” Neal asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Professor Timothy Albright,” Peter said.

“T and A,” Neal said, his voice filled with satisfaction.

“But what does this mean?” Peter asked. He pointed towards the painting before snatching his hand away. ‘What does that mark mean and how is it the proof that you were talking about?”

“Most forgers have this mark, usually their initials, which mark the piece that they’ve done. Sort of their way of leaving their stamp to show off how clever they are,” Neal explained. “Obviously, they’re hidden really well, or else it would be obvious that it’s a fake.”

“So the painting in Professor Albright’s office,” Peter said, looking a bit blank as he realized it.

“Is definitely the real one,” Neal said. “Although, I can see why no one’s said anything, it's a fairly decent copy, only a few small mistakes to reveal its true nature.”

“But why would he steal it? How did he steal it?” Peter asked, looking bewildered. “And why is it in his office instead of hidden away?”

“Well, it makes a sort of sense to keep it in his office. You said yourself that he’s the dedicated sort of person, so he’s most likely in his office all of the time. Besides, no one would suspect that the painting in an office is the real one,” Neal said. “And he is considered to be a good artist, so it's not inconceivable for it to be a copy of the painting that he admires.”

“But I still don't get how or why,” Peter said. He glanced around the museum. “Security looks pretty tight to me.”

“It’s really not,” Neal said. He tilted his head towards the security camera across the room. “There are enough gaps left between those than anyone could get in and out without any problems, and I bet that they still don't patrol the area at night like they should. It was rather easy to get in and out of the museum at night when I was a kid and I bet it really hasn’t’ changed. Even big museums can get sloppy.”

“But why,” Peter asked, going back to his questions. He didn't seem to be really thinking about the explanation that Neal gave him and he didn’t even seem to have registered that Neal basically admitted to breaking into the museum when he was younger.

Neal shook his head at Peter. “You’re the one who’s going for a criminal degree. He probably did it because he could and he likes the idea that he could have the original painting in his possession. Why else would he keep it on display?”

“And I have one last question,” Peter said. He swept his eyes over the painting once more. “What do we do now?”

“What do you mean?” Neal asked.

“Professor Albright is a thief, and no one seems to have realized it, we have to do something,” Peter said. He looked around. “We should tell the security guards or call the police or something.”

“That’s pointless,” Neal said, stopping Peter from going after a security guard in the distance. “Even though you’re nineteen, they still won’t believe you if you try to point it out and it’s not like they can just look at Professor Albright’s office.

“But we have to do something,” Peter said. “I can't just let this go.”

“We should steal it for ourselves,” Neal said. Ne nodded to himself and then grinned up at Peter. “Just think about it, we could have our very own painting and then Professor Albright couldn't do anything about it.”

“That’s crazy,” Peter replied, staring at Neal. “We can't just become thieves ourselves and what would we do with the painting anyway? Besides, Professor Albright could find out and come after us. Yes, he won't go to the police, but he could still go after us.”

Neal sighed. “I suppose you're right. Besides, we’d probably have an easier time getting into this place over Professor Albright’s office.”

“How do you know how easily it is anyway?” Peter asked, finally focusing in on that fact.

Neal shrugged at Peter and grinned at him. “I told you that I came here a lot, didn't I? And I’ve been watching while we went on the tour and I can say with ninety-nine percent certainty that it’s about the same as it was two years ago.”

Peter eyed Neal for a moment longer, giving him a slightly suspicious look. “I wonder if we can somehow find out whether or not they know that the painting is stolen,” Peter finally said. He glanced around. “Do you think that we could ask the security guards?”

“They wouldn’t give you a straight answer,” Neal said, “so it’s pointless to ask.” He frowned as he thought it over. He then started off towards the nearest security guard. Peter started and then walked after him.

“What are you doing?” Peter hissed as he tried to catch hold of Neal’s sleeve to stop him.

“I’m going to ask them.” Neal dodged Peter’s attempt of capture and continued on towards the security guard.

“I thought that you said that it was pointless to ask,” Peter grumbled. He stopped trying to stop Neal, though and just followed after Neal.

“He still won’t tell us anything straight out, but I bet that we can get some information,” Neal replied. He reached up and mussed his hair a little. “Besides, people react to kid differently than they do to adults.”

Peter sighed, but dropped back and allowed Neal to approach the security guard. Neal tugged on the security guard’s sleeve, bringing himself to the man’s attention.

“Can I help you? Are you lost?” the security guard asked as he looked down at Neal.

“Are any of the paintings ever stolen?” Neal asked, peering up at the man with interest. He knew that he looked like a curious kid.

“What?” the security guard asked, looking a bit bewildered.

Peter jogged up to them and put his hand on Neal’s shoulder. “Sorry about him, he’s gotten interested in thieves recently. He shouldn't have been allowed to see The Sting.”

“It’s no problem,” the security guard said. He looked down at Neal and adopted a more friendly voice. “While there are thieves who try to steal the paintings here at the museum, we do our jobs really well and so the thieves don’t get their way.”

“Thank you, mister,” Neal said. He glanced down, looking disappointed at the answer. “It would have been cool, though, if there was a painting stolen from here.”

“That hasn't happened in a long while,” the security guard said. He smiled at Neal and Peter before wandering off.

“So, there you have it,” Neal said as they turned to leave in the opposite direction. “They have no real idea who it is that stole it.”

“Do you think that they have any clue at all that it is stolen and replaced with a fake?” Peter asked. He glanced over his shoulder. “I couldn’t' tell from what the security guard said.”

“They might have some idea, but as I said, Professor Albright didn't leave enough clues behind for them to figure out who took it,” Neal said. “And of course, they’re not going to ever figure it out, since the professor has no plans on selling it at any point.”

“So what do we do?” Peter asked, pausing in front of the fake painting once more.

Neal eyed the painting and grinned. “We give them the clues that they need in order to find him.”

“What?” Peter asked. He glanced down at Neal, but Neal ignored him. Neal started walking, leaving the painting behind.

Peter questioned him the whole ride home, but Neal refused to say anything. The only thing that he told Peter was that he was coming up with the plan. “We’ll lay the tracks for the police, all they’ll have to do is follow them and they’ll lead right towards Professor Albright.”

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

white collar, bigbang, short story, fanfic

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