
Tony Ayers was wandering through one of the honey-stone villages in the English Cotswolds when he stepped into an antiques shop and saw something that took his breath away.
It was 1995, and Ayers, who lived in Winnetka, was on vacation with his wife. Inside the shop, Ayers took a passing interest in an armoire. The antiques dealer eased the piece out of the shadows, and that’s when Ayers saw it: Behind the armoire was a painting coated in dust, paint flaking, its true beauty hidden beneath layers of grime. Even so, Ayers, an amateur artist, was sure he’d found a masterpiece.