11 April 2012
PART ONE
Present Day City of Glasgow, Scotland
All one hundred and eight students had been sitting in the lecture theatre for over fifteen minutes now, with still no sign of the professor. The talking and fidgeting was getting louder as each student grew more impatient staring up at an empty projection screen. A paper plane flew from the back row gliding past Ashley Steele’s head before landing on the bottom stair. The stairs went up the centre of the theatre splitting the two seating blocks in half. Each half was made up of ten rows of ten seats. Students from two different disciplines stuck to their own side. Usually you would find all the Art History students on the right and the Fine Art students to the left. Rarely did they mix, even with the University trying to encourage interprofessional learning as they called it.
Sitting to the right, third row from the front Ashley peeked across at her boyfriend Stewart Wilson who was busy giggling with one of the Fine Art students on the left side of the theatre. Rolling her eyes, Ashley stood up with her books, yanking a bag over her shoulder and shuffled out of her row.
She walked to the exit with a hope that Stewart might follow. However, this was the catalyst for the remaining one hundred and seven students to do the same. At the doors of the lecture theatre Ashley Steele glanced back at her boyfriend. Still giggling. She wasn’t usually the jealous type but she didn’t like the way that girl looked at him. If it weren’t for the other student’s pushing forward to get out she probably would have waited for him.
After one long minute in the hallway outside, Stewart finally appeared with his new 'friend' and immediately met her eyes. Ashley had only been seeing Stewart for six weeks now, but she honestly thought he was the one. Stewart was only one of nine boys on the Art History degree programme, which made slim pickings for the rest of the vulchers who also found his geeky ways rather attractive. She would usually make a point of marking her territory by sitting beside him in lectures. Only today she had missed the bus.
Ashley managed the ghost of a smile as Stewart put an arm around her. “Who’s your new friend?” she ventured as the girl left with the rest of the class. “You looked like you had so much in common.” She added dryly.
Stewart shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re getting jealous. The girl of Steele has emotion’s after all.”
The two began to walk, leaving the lecture theatre behind. “What were you giggling about?” Ashley asked, stopping by a vending machine to buy a Coca-Cola.
“My father... and why he never showed today.”
“And you told her?” Ashley pressed.
“I told her he probably had a better offer. Do you fancy the Union tonight?”
“Why, is she going to be there?” said Ashley.
Stewart wouldn’t meet her eye as she turned away from the machine. Instead he looked away, avoiding her gaze. One arm holding the shoulder strap of his bag, his fingers fiddling with the padding as the light from a nearby window highlighted the flyaway hairs that escaped his small spiked fringe.
Ashley refused to let him evade the question. “Oh my god, she invited you, didn’t she?”
Opening his mouth to protest Stewart heard his name called from down the corridor. A slightly older woman wearing a sandy colored suit jacket and skirt walked hurriedly towards the couple. Her name was Mrs. Morgan Turnbell and she was one of the lectures in the School of Art & Design. “Stewart,” she said through her heavily painted lips. “I just heard from your father. He needs you to meet him at Kelvingrove Art Gallery.”
Stewart raised his brows in surprise. “Why the hell is he at Kelvingrove? He was supposed to take this mornings lecture.”
She nodded knowingly. “I’ll explain on the way. We should leave immediately. I’ll drive.”
Ashley looked at Stewart “Just go. I’ll see you tonight.” she said and walked away leaving Stewart with Mrs. Turnbell who had already set the pace half way down the corridor. It mystified Stewart how she managed those lengthy strides wearing high heels and knee-length skirt. Perhaps it was the split half way up the side of her dress that made it possible. Moving quickly but quietly through the doors and stairwells of the University he could smell the vapor trail of perfume she left behind and couldn’t help but wonder what the big rush was. She turned down the corridor toward the eastern gate of the university.
Stewart glanced out the occasional window catching heavy rain outside. “This is exactly why everyone refers to him as the mad professor y’know.”
“I got a phone call from you’re father this morning Stewart,” Mrs. Turnbell began “The curator at Kelvingrove discovered an old blueprint.”
“Okay… A blueprint of what?”
“I don’t know, Stewart. You’re father - being the expert on the Renaissance movement - was called in to help identify a painting.”
“What does he need me for?”
“The Art Director and your father we’re both attacked. He believes the attacker was after the blueprint.”
Stewart looked down with embarrassment as they turned left out of University building and climbed into Mrs. Turnbell’s Saab 9-7 SUV. His father had always been the eccentric type but he had never gone this far before. “You don’t sound too worried. Has he phoned the police?”
“No,” she said starting the engine “He hid the blueprint under a bust in the Ancient Egypt section of the gallery.” She said, looking at Stewart sympathetically. “He said you know it well and wants you to pick it up.”
“Ugh, what about the guy who attacked them, I mean, is it safe?”
“Your father is leading his ‘attacker’ away from Kelvingrove. He must still think you’re dad has the blueprint.”
Stewart swallowed. “I really don’t know what I see in him. If he isn’t pulling long lost blueprints from behind a 1400 renaissance painting he is trying to kill us both with his DIY around the house.” Mrs T sighed.
The Merchant's Coin • Opuss № I