Chapter 233 - Two Hundred And Thirty Three

Sunlight from a large, north-facing window illuminated a long table covered in instruments: powerful magnifying glasses, brass scales, small vials of chemicals, and delicate tweezers. Prescott stood with his arms folded, watching the man work. He had been here for over an hour, an observer to a meticulous examination.

The authenticator, a small, balding man named Mr. Finch, had the intense, focused eyes of a jeweler. He pushed his spectacles back up the bridge of his nose and finally straightened up from his work, a low sigh escaping his lips. He looked at Prescott, his expression a mixture of certainty and genuine fascination.

"Look here," Mr. Finch said, gesturing for Prescott to come closer. He pointed to the swatch of shimmering fabric from Anne's dress, which was pinned to a board. "The technique is perfect. Absolutely perfect. See this cross-weave here? That was Adair Reed's signature. Impossible to replicate, everyone said." He then pointed to another piece of fabric, a small, authenticated scrap of a real Adair Reed masterpiece, kept under glass. "The pattern is identical. The thread count matches. The weight per square inch is correct."

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