BURN THE TRUTH

Episode Forty-one

The museum was occupied with many exquisite-looking ladies and gentlemen, all beautifully portrayed as they collectively move within the space admiring the work of art.

The section Devyn and Velda was taken to was exceptionally planned, with a sprinkling of creativity. The music offered something relaxed and mellow, playing ever so gently in the background to tone the perfect evening soirée.

Guests greet with delight, smiling and conversing in a soft tone as they exchange pleasantries with one another. At the centre of the room was a sculpture displayed as the main focus of the space.

Devyn’s hand pried from Velda’s waist as they began to approach the old man at the end of the room, ostensibly in a conversation with a few other men. He looks not far from his sixties, though stood menacingly outstanding from the rest of the men.

Frederick shifted to the old man, narrowly drawing his attention. “Father, here is a friend of mine, Devyn” He introduced, making way for Devyn to greet his father.

Devyn stood before him, meeting the old man’s gaze with his grave ones “I've read about you, Mr West. I'm Devyn Garfield. I'm genuinely pleased to finally meet you in person, Mr West,” Devyn expressed as he put forth his hands for a handshake which the old man accepted, and earnestly Devyn bow his head in respect to the old man, his left hand lightly clasped at the back of the man’s palm as they shook.

“My pleasure,” Mr West returned before their hands pried away.

Devyn took a step aside “Meet my fiancée” he presents and slowly brought Velda closer to the old man. His hand lightly placed on her curve. The chilled feeling of being introduced as fiancée almost holding her voice in.

“Good evening, Mr West,” Velda beams professionally trying not to betray her emotion at that point. It wasn't the first time she had to portray a different appearance in other to please the next person and she was quite good at it. More than her manners, what Devyn really finds brilliant is her complete control of every situation that arrives her way. An expert she is.

The old man took her hand in a quick professional handshake “Evening young lady,” He offers.

“The stage is yours, Mr West,” A muscular African-American man’s words cut between the formalities, looking more like the average forty years man, with a prominent physic that shows the labour of his early years. An executive of the West museum.

“Permit me to attend to the matter, My lady,” Mr West asked of Velda who seemed relieved for a while there. She gave a modest nod and with her last word, Mr West made his way to the front stage.

The old man cleared his throat as he stood before the number of guests in the room “Hello, Ladies and Gentlemen. Thank you, all of you, for making it to this event. If you look around this room, you'll see the men and women that appreciate art. And around you is the art that will carry your legacy into the future, its nature is unparalleled”...

As the ongoing speech continued, Frederick turned and seized two wine glasses from a near server. Though before he took off, Devyn silently called his attention “Restroom?” He requested.

“Second turn down that way,” Frederick muttered, an eye direction before Devyn turned to Velda.

“I will be back,” He whispered to her before taking the route he was told while the faint words of the old man continued in the background.

“...To art we owe a debt we cannot repay,” Mr West said before Fredrick passed him the wine “A toast!” He said as he raised his wine glass and collectively the guests returned before all took a sip from their wine “Enjoy your evening” the old man said before retreating from the stage.

“I didn't get to pick your name,” Mr West said as he returned to Velda after a brief word with a few guests.

“Oh, forgive my manners, Mr West, I'm Velda Dashiell” She politely presented. Velda managed to have a short conversation with Fredrick before Devyn eventually showed up. A wine glass in his hand.

“Do you mind if I steal Ms Dashiel for a moment?” Devyn requested mannerly as he reached her side.

“Of course,” Frederick nods.

“Uh, it was nice seeing you,” She chuckles softly before she parted ways with Devyn who soon swiftly dropped off his empty wine glass onto a passing server’s tray.

“Ironic, don't you think? I never knew you were one to mingle with people this quick” Devyn said as they began walking away from the space. A slight sarcasm detected in his tone.

“It seems remarkable conversing with a certain type of people, it's not as though you're one with such manners,” She says, a glance in his path as they entered a different section.

Devyn blinked “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you believed all that crap in there,” he says but she suddenly turns to him.

“You mean the fact that my eyes are beautiful and alluring? Because I was told that” She asked and Devyn tilts his head slightly, a smirk visible on his lips. She is a tough one, though so is he.

“Everything about you is beautiful, Velda” Devyn came sincerely, in a low voice “Beauty can't even describe it well if I may say. The way you handle yourself. You're extraordinary. Well, in an ordinary way,” He said the last line with a bit of sarcasm, taking his eyes off.

“Wow” Velda let out and then laughs “Thank you,” She said before Devyn’s eyes returned to hers “That's the worst compliment I've ever gotten”

Eventually, Devyn brought Velda to the main reason he had brought her to the gallery. The room had a few sculptures within a series of glasses at either side of the walls, and at the end of the not-too-large section in a glass-sealed space was a frameless half-length portrait painting featuring a young woman in a mostly dark backdrop. The woman’s head was turned, looking over her shoulder, an almost full view of her face. The dark shallow backdrop draws Velda’s attention to the young woman, their eyes locking in a solo timeline.

It seemed not many were interested in the art there as they were the only ones in the space. Devyn shifted close to Velda, his suit slightly touching her, “What do you say?” He whispered, his voice in a low husky tone.

“It's a painting of a young woman, other than that I don't see anything,” She said sincerely while focusing on the painting ahead.

“Maybe this is the time to use your detective skill, don't you think so?” His breath lightly grazed her neck as he slightly leaned in. “The face, what do you tell of it?” he asked.

Velda withdrew her eyes from the painting, narrowly turning her face slow, barely much a try to glimpse Devyn but succeeded in catching only the blurry view of his jaw and a small portion of his lips.

A lingering silence before she returned her eyes to the painting. “The expression on her face is quite a kind, can't truly tell apart, the more I look the more it varies. I'm not acquainted with art so giving an ethical say in this isn't something I can do. It seems you know the art already, why not tell”

“It's highly reminiscent” Devyn spoke as he looked ahead “The painting is in oil on canvas. The young woman in the painting is thought to be the image of industrialist Hewitt Amos’s wife before she finally got married to him. The name of the girl depicted is unknown to the rest of the world” He told her explicitly. His voice was barely audible but she was able to capture every one of his words as his mouth was inches away from her ear.

“This painting took more than three years to complete from 1896 to 1990. The portrait was commissioned by the same man betrothed to her. He intended to capture her expression forever, it was the most he cherish about her, also because the expression on her face is difficult to capture and explain. In 1939, the painting was stolen and then displayed at the Osterreichische Galerie Belvedere and was later retrieved” Devyn narrated before taking a few steps around to stand before her.

“Except history has again repeated itself” The words came low, intense and firm with his eyes piercing into hers in a solemn look.