Page 60 of Burning Caine
Her comments seemed to work on him. He took a few deep breaths, as I waited. Lucy was about to say something, so I tapped her leg with mine to get her attention and shook my head.
“Have you logged into the insured’s web portal?” I asked, referring to the website where our policyholders could access information about their claims.
“No.”
“I added an update yesterday. You should have received an email. Either way, I’ll pull it up now, and we can look.”
I hit a button in the middle of the conference table, and the big screen lit up, mirroring the image I’d brought up on my laptop. “This photo was taken last Wednesday when I retrieved it from the police station. It was covered in a layer of soot, but you can see how little of it remains. As you can imagine, it will be difficult to prove this was the insured painting.”
“So how will it be done, then?”
I brought up the photo I’d added to the claim the day before. “This photo was yesterday, after the larger sections of debris had been removed. The conservator added some stabilizing fabric behind the tears to keep them from ripping further and made some progress on cleaning the bottom right. I asked him to start there since it’s the most stable and contains the signature.”
“How much needs to be cleaned before you can wrap up the claim?”
“It’s more of a wait-and-see sort of thing. He’ll do some work, we’ll review it, and discuss the next steps. I’m afraid it may take the full month.”
He nodded, while Olivia continued to stare at her hands. “That’s a lot of progress in a week. I’d like another update before the week is done.”
“Absolutely.” I sounded confident, but the pit in my stomach argued it. “I want to make sure you and your mother are being taken care of. I do also have a couple questions. I’ll be brief; it should only be another five minutes.”
He nodded.
“First, do you or your mother have any other insurance which may cover the painting? Like a contents-only coverage at another company, additional coverage for moving it, or showing it at a gallery?”
Olivia shook her head and answered quietly. “No, none.”
“Second, was it ever loaned to a gallery or to a friend? If there are discrepancies in our review, I’ll need to talk to those people, in case the painting was damaged in their possession.”
“Yes. My father loaned it to Mason’s Art Gallery a year ago. It was on display for about six months, I think? Mother, do you remember?”
Her shoulders heaved a few times and she dabbed at her eyes.
“It’s alright,” I said, not wanting to upset her further. “Mason’s has short-term coverage with us for loans, so it would have been covered there. Do you recall the dates?”
“Dad always handled those details.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll talk to Mason’s. They would have what I’m looking for. That’s all I had, thanks for your patience.”
“Thank you for bringing us up to speed. Can we have the contact information for the company cleaning it?”
“Take my card. Feel free to call me anytime you have questions. I’m available twenty-four-seven.”
David slipped my card into his pocket, and he and his mother stood to shake our hands.
“Thank you, dear.” Olivia patted my hand. “I appreciate what you’re doing for us.”
David put his arm around her, escorting her out of the building.
Lucy grabbed a piece of gum from her pocket and stuffed it in her mouth. “What’s with the extra questions?”
I grinned at her. “Not much gets by you, does it? Antonio found something odd with the painting, so he’s doing some more investigation.”
“Not simply more cleaning?”
“Yes and no. More cleaning, so he can do some additional tests.”
“More time with Dr. Ferraro can’t be a bad thing.” She winked at me.