Chapter Sixteen
A buzzer announced the beginning of the sale and gradually the bidders made their way through to the saleroom. Aster moved quickly to a side seat towards the back. The last thing she wanted was that city creep to follow her out of the auction house.
The auctioneer gavelled the room to order, his brows already glistening with anticipatory sweat. Aster settled in to watch the show. She would bid for a few lots before and after the nuns’ painting but would ignore the main event. Again, it was essential that she was not seen playing any part in this sabotage.
The bidding moved at a brisk pace and Aster was pipped to the post on a few pictures, shaking her head each time as the bids rose higher. She watched her would-be suitor bid on a picture and started to bid against him just to up the price, then pulled out at the last moment. Hopefully, he had paid more than he hoped. He had turned once to see who was bidding against him and she couldn’t resist a little wave as his scowl turned to a gallant smile when she stopped bidding.
It was time for Lot Seventy-Eight. The auctioneer cleared his throat and began his well-practiced spiel about the rarity, the quality, the unmissable beauty of the Madonna. But his words rang hollow in the sceptical silence of the room. No paddles stirred, no eager voices called out opening bids. Even as he dropped the starting price lower and lower, trying to coax some flicker of interest from his recalcitrant crowd, he was met with nothing but shifting feet and averted eyes.
Looking down at his laptop in hopes of some bids, he tapped on his screen. Frowning, he placed his hand over his mike, called out to one of the various members of staff standing around. Aster watched with interest as a technician bounced up onto the lectern and tapped the screen and then shook her head. The auctioneer addressed the room.
‘Apologies, we seem to have lost our connection to the online bids.’
His colleague whispered to him and he addressed the room again.
‘No, we have one bid, no two bids have been salvaged.’
Aster groaned. The plan had been that only Otto’s remote bid would make it through. If the other bidder was determined, she was screwed.
‘I have forty-five thousand, who’ll offer fifty?’
Aster winced. Her instruction to Otto was to bail at fifty thousand.
‘Fifty thousand pounds, fifty-five thousand pounds?’ The auctioneer looked out into the silent auction call, his alarm mounting at the sea of amused or hostile faces.
Aster listened in dismay as the bidding climbed. She was completely screwed, she didn’t know who she was bidding and didn’t know if she should start bidding. But if she did, it might wake the room up. The auctioneer looked up from his screen.
‘And I’m out at fifty-five thousand pounds. Any takers in the room?’
The painting had made its reserve, but how would the room respond? Deciding she was going to have to bid just to secure the painting, she was about to raise her paddle when the auctioneer clearly decided the lot was cursed. He brought his gavel down quickly to spare himself any further embarrassment.
Aster took a deep breath and swore to herself. Who had bought the painting? How was she going to track it now? Furious, she wanted to storm out of the room immediately but need to remain discrete. Instead, she watched as the little picture of the blue apple soared past its reserve. Hortense and her suitor battled over it for a while but eventually it sold to a man in a pinstriped suit for an eye-watering quarter of a million.
As the auctioneer called a pause after the excitement, Aster slid out of the room and walked out into the fresh air. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she was about to call Otto when a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.
‘What about that drink, then?’
She turned and looked up to see Giles or Rupert or whatever the hell his name was.
‘No.’
She turned and was about to stride off when he laughed. Something in his tone was so carefree that she turned to look back at him. He bowed and smiled at her, then winked. ‘The name’s Jimmy by the way. Nice playing with you.’ And he turned and walked off in the opposite direction, disappearing into the London crowds.
Had that been one of Otto’s stooges? If it was, he had played his role brilliantly. She was almost tempted to chase after him and find out, but it would have to wait. She needed to find out who had bought the painting.
Her phone buzzed and she saw Otto’s number on the screen. Walking briskly away from the auction house, she hit accept and got straight to the point.
‘What went wrong?’
‘I did warn you we might not be able to isolate all the other lines.’
‘But they bid up to fifty-five thousand. Bloody hell, Otto, now I need to find out who bought it.’
‘We did.’
‘What?’
‘We bought the painting.’
‘But I told you to only go up to fifty.’
‘I know, but I have a good feeling about this painting. In the greater scheme of things, what’s five k here or there?’
Aster could hear the laughter in Otto’s voice. Trying to find an argument, she realised she had none and joined in the laughter as Otto continued.
‘Are you off to tell the nuns the good news?’
‘Can’t, this is one of their seclusion days. No visitors. No communications.’
‘Mon Dieu. These women.’
‘I don’t know, sounds idyllic to me.’
‘Very well, how do you plan to celebrate?’
Aster thought and shrugged.
‘Get on to the muslin suppliers. Interview a few of our local connections. Get online, play a few games. I don’t know, something along those lines. Oh, and I also need to line up an art restorer, can you send me some recommendations? I might get the painting delivered directly to them.’
‘I shall do that. But Aster, go out and play! Celebrate.’
‘Really Otto, are you fussing?’
‘Of course not. What do I care?’
As they hung up, Aster saw text come in from Otto. More fussing?
-Jimmy wants your number?
Aster stopped walking and thought about it.
-No
And she continued to walk, then paused and shrugged to herself. Otto would have pre-vetted him. She wouldn’t have passed the message on if she didn’t trust him.
-Tell him to give me his. And I’ll call if I feel like it.
-Will do.
Considering the matter settled, she headed home.
Her phone pinged again and she saw Jimmy had already given Otto permission to share his number. She grinned to herself. Maybe a night out would be good for her? As she walked, she pulled out her phone and fired off a quick text to Jimmy.
-Drinks later to celebrate our triumph?
She hit send with a grin, already anticipating the verbal sparring match sure to ensue. Anyone who could keep up with her antics was worth getting to know better, in her book. Plus she liked male energy. They were so straightforward, easy to deal with. Today had gone brilliantly and her only disappointment was that her stranger hadn’t been present.
To hell with it. If she never saw him again, so be it. Her video was gaining traction online and she hoped she would get justice for those girls. Her own search for answers would have to wait. She had too many other projects to focus on and they had to come first.