He wanted to assure himself that he had seen what he thought he had seen, and it was there. In the window, somehow accentuated by the very simplicity of its surroundings, was a tapestry that depicted a bowl of crocuses in bloom. Though he did not know a great deal about tapestries, Jeff realized that this was a very fine one. But mentally he compared it to Granny's, and decided that hers was better. Jeff entered the galleries.
Though only fair-sized, the arrangement of the interior loaned an illusion of spaciousness and its air was one of quiet refinement. There were paintings on the walls and others on easels, and without examining them too closely, Jeff knew that the way they were placed added much to their effectiveness. He turned to meet the man coming toward him and was greeted with a pleasant, "Good morning."
He said it as though he were welcoming a guest into his house, and Jeff responded in kind. "Good morning. I think you may save my life!"
"Indeed?" The man arched his brows. "You hardly seem on the verge of expiring."
"I really am, though. You do know something about tapestries?"
"A bit." The man smiled indulgently. "What do you wish?"
Jeff unrolled Granny's The Last Supper and held it up for inspection. "I must find the exact duplicate of this."
"May I see it?"
The man took the tapestry, felt its texture, turned it over and examined it at arm's length. His eyes hardened ever so slightly. Lowering the tapestry, he wrinkled his brow in thought.
"Perhaps we may help you, Mr.—"