by Susan Lewis
Laughing, he said, ‘Along with its partner from Colston Boys’, I believe.’
Grinning widely, she rubbed her hands as she said, ‘I’m beginning to enjoy this.’ Then, noticing several more people arriving, she whispered, ‘How’s everything going out front?’
‘Fine, as far as I can tell. Poor Hector’s drenched to the skin going back and forth to the car park, but John thought we should make an effort with umbrellas or people might not bother to get out of their cars. Ah, there goes Simon, presumably to take over from John with the cashiers.’
Spotting Pippa on the opposite mezzanine, Lucy gave her a silent round of applause as she secured an art deco glass bowl for her telephone bidder. With a bow of thanks, Pippa put aside the phone and continued to work with Hanna and Juliette displaying objects as the auctioneers described them, until it was time to get her next client on the line.
It was just before midday that Lucy’s eyes rounded with shock as Maureen, pumped up with attitude and dripping in paste jewels, stalked into the barn and plonked herself down in an aisle seat. By now Lucy was standing next to the auctioneer’s podium, having just returned from the office where the cashiers were merrily running cards through their machines and stuffing notes in their tills, while Simon did his duty as security guard.
‘I don’t believe the nerve of her,’ Sarah whispered, coming up beside her.
Though Lucy’s heart was thudding with unease she was keeping her eyes fixed on Maureen, determined not to be the first to look away. ‘Her timing’s interesting, wouldn’t you say?’ she muttered.
‘I certainly would.’
Since the paintings were already under the hammer, and the suspected Peter Kinley was due to come up about halfway through the section, they didn’t have long to wait.
‘I’ve been told,’ Frank, the auctioneer, informed the gathering when the moment arrived, ‘that Lot 340 is no longer available. So, moving on to Lot 341, a gouache and mixed media still life signed bottom right Ximenes and in a gilt frame. Am I offered forty pounds?’
Maureen’s eyes were boring so hard into Lucy’s that Lucy almost took a step back.
‘Gotcha,’ Sarah murmured.
Having got wind of the new arrival, Michael and John were also standing with Lucy by now, as she waited for Maureen to flounce out. However, Maureen remained rooted to her chair and didn’t move until she’d made the only bid for a set of nineteenth-century engravings. Having secured them for the eighty pounds at which she’d listed them, she rose to her feet, delivered a superciliously smug look Lucy’s way and went off to pay.
‘Was that supposed to throw us off the scent?’ Michael murmured in Lucy’s ear. ‘Or were they really what she came for?’
Lucy was still watching Maureen stalking up through the barn like a grande dame with a bad smell under her nose. ‘I’ve no idea,’ she replied, ‘but I think I’ll go and have a word.’
By the time Maureen had paid for the engravings Lucy was in the courtyard, under an umbrella, ready to block her exit. ‘Before you go,’ she said as Maureen tried to brush by, ‘wouldn’t you like to know what happened to Lot 340?’
Maureen’s answering look was withering. ‘I’ve got what I came for, thank you very much,’ she retorted.
Lucy raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Perfectly. Now, if you don’t mind …’
‘We’re watching you, Maureen.’
Maureen only smirked. ‘Then you’re looking the wrong way,’ she told her, and seemed about to move on until apparently she thought better of it. ‘Who do you think sent me here for these?’ she demanded, her eyes blazing the challenge.
Lucy glanced at the parcel of engravings.
‘It was your mother,’ Maureen hissed in her face.
Lucy blanched as she took a step back. ‘I know you’re lying,’ she told her angrily.
‘Am I? Then prove it,’ and shooting open her own umbrella she marched triumphantly on her way.
‘Of course your mother didn’t send her,’ Sarah cried indignantly.
‘I’m sure you’re right, but it’s her word against my mother’s,’ Lucy pointed out, ‘and actually, there’s something I haven’t told you … Last Saturday, when I found the office open and we assumed it was Maureen or someone working with her who’d let themselves in? Well, I’m afraid it was my parents.’
Sarah blinked with astonishment.
Lucy looked from Michael to John, who appeared equally thrown.
‘Apparently they came back for some family papers,’ Lucy told them, the flimsiness of the excuse dismaying her more deeply than ever.
No one voiced the incredulous question: they did that drive twice in one day for family papers? Or: why didn’t they lock up behind them, or let you know they were coming, or ask you to look for them? Nevertheless, the words were hanging in the air.
‘There’s always a chance,’ Michael said, ‘that your mother was telling the truth and that is why they came back.’
‘Thank you for that,’ Lucy said, ‘and I’d really like to believe it, but the timing and coincidence …’ Dropping her head in her hands, she let out a growl of frustration. ‘I don’t know what to think,’ she murmured angrily. ‘Those solicitors’ letters have to be answered, and if we start pointing the finger at Maureen we know exactly what she’s going to do. She’ll swivel it right back at my mother, and frankly whether Mum was actively involved, or being leaned on, or whatever the hell’s been going on, she’d never be able to go through the stress of a police inquiry, much less a trial.’
‘I’m sure it won’t come to that,’ Sarah said, glancing at Michael for backup.
‘We’ve already agreed we need to talk to her,’ Michael said, ‘and we must do it face to face, because the only way you’re going to know if she’s telling the truth is if you can see her eyes.’
‘Of course,’ Lucy sighed, ‘but I can’t get down there this week with all that’s going on, and next week’s diary is already full. I’ll have to try and persuade her to come here, which might be a damned sight easier if I could flaming well get hold of her.’
Chapter Eighteen
IT WAS DURING the afternoon of the second day that the auction took a turn no one saw coming. With the bulk of the sale already complete, there were only a small number of punters left in the barn, and bidding for the remaining miscellaneous items had become lacklustre, to say the least. However, Percy was doing his best to keep it all going, mustering his usual jolly tones as he asked for twenty pounds to start the bids on a box Sarah had provided. It contained an old biscuit tin half full of sixpenny bits, an ironwork candlestick, a collection of cabinet keys, a large wooden chess piece and a brass and silver letter knife.
At first there was only a white-haired man in the fourth row who responded, and since there seemed to be no other interest Percy was about to declare the item sold when Philippa, on the phone up on the mezzanine, raised her hand.
‘Twenty-five,’ Percy announced. ‘Do I have thirty?’
The man with the white hair nodded.
‘Thirty-five?’
Philippa nodded.
‘Forty?’
Again the white-haired man nodded.
When the bidding reached a hundred Lucy and Sarah exchanged glances across the barn, startled by what was happening. Even Percy was starting to look baffled as the bids continued to rise, reaching two, then three, then four hundred pounds, but that was nothing compared to Sarah’s disbelief when the contest soared on to a thousand.
Stunned, she could only stand and watch as Percy declared, ‘Two thousand pounds. I have two thousand. Any advance …’
Philippa’s hand went up.
‘Two five.’
The white-haired man raised his paddle.
‘Three.’
Back to Philippa.
‘Three five.’
To the white-haired man.
‘Four.’ Then, ‘Four five. Five. Five five. Six.’
When the
bidding reached ten thousand Lucy was at Sarah’s side, and both were feeling the need to sit down. By the time it got to forty, word had spread to the office, bringing the rest of the team, minus cashiers, into the barn.
‘Forty-five thousand,’ Percy announced. ‘Do I have fifty?’
The white-haired man nodded again.
Percy looked up at Philippa, and after a beat her entire body seemed to slump as her client apparently decided to withdraw from the race.
Percy’s hammer hit the desk. ‘Sold for fifty thousand pounds,’ he declared with an astonished grin.
There was a moment’s stupefied silence before the spectators broke into a bewildered round of applause.
‘What the hell was in that box?’ Michael murmured to Lucy, as the white-haired man smiled in their direction on his way out.
‘You’ll have to ask Sarah,’ she replied, laughing at the blank amazement on Sarah’s face. Then, catching a glimpse of Philippa fanning herself on the mezzanine, she sprinted up the stairs to make sure she was all right.
‘What a trip,’ Philippa chuckled as Lucy reached her. ‘It’s better than drugs.’
With a choke of laughter, Lucy said, ‘And there was me thinking you were about to faint.’
‘I think we all are. Did that really just happen? Fifty thousand pounds for a box of junk?’
‘Come on, I think we should go over to the office to find out which part of it our chap with the white hair clearly didn’t think was junk.’
‘But I’m still on duty,’ Philippa reminded her, ‘and Percy’s off again. I’ll catch up with you at the end of the day.’
‘No, no, the others can carry on without you now – unless you’ve got more phone calls.’
‘No, that was my last one, and boy, what a finish!’
Arriving in the office moments later they found Sarah and Simon, both still in a state of shock, along with the rest of the team crowding around the white-haired man, whose name turned out to be Lionel Everett. He was an antiques dealer, he was telling them, specialising in oriental chess pieces.
‘And this rather ordinary-looking chap,’ he declared, plucking it from the box and holding it between his finger and thumb, ‘is from an extremely rare sixteenth-century Tibetan set.’
Sarah’s eyes were still round with disbelief.
‘Awesome,’ Hanna murmured.
‘How do you know?’ Simon asked, peering closely at what to him looked like a lump of chipped wood that might, with some imagination, resemble a rook.
Lionel Everett smiled. ‘It’s my business to know,’ he replied, ‘and lucky for you there was more than one of us who spotted it, otherwise I might have picked this little fellow up for twenty quid.’
‘Where did it come from?’ Sarah asked Simon.
‘You’re the one who found it,’ he reminded her. ‘Can you remember where?’
She shook her head. ‘How did you know it was here?’ she asked Lionel.
‘I didn’t until I came for the viewing on Tuesday – and even that was pure chance, because I was on my way back to Lincoln after staying with my brother in Somerset when I saw one of your roadside signs. I wasn’t in a hurry so I thought I’d drop in for a browse, and I can tell you it was an exciting moment when I realised what you had here. Of course, I hadn’t anticipated someone else identifying it too.’
Hearing John chuckle, Sarah said, ‘I’m sure this question isn’t allowed, but I’m going to ask anyway, how much is the piece actually worth?’
Lionel’s eyebrows performed an amusing little dance. ‘Like anything, as much as someone’s willing to pay for it. In my collector’s case he’d instructed me to go considerably higher if I had to, so in his eyes he’s probably just got himself a bargain.’
Sarah almost whimpered as she rocked back on her heels, and Lucy gently propped her up again.
Lionel glanced at his watch. ‘Now, I think we should probably sort out a method of payment as I really do need to be on my way.’
‘Absolutely,’ Lucy agreed, starting towards the cashiers.
‘But until the payment goes through,’ Michael put in, ‘perhaps the little fellow should stay with us?’
Surprised, then realising she should have thought of it herself, Lucy turned back to Lionel.
‘I have no problem with that,’ he told her. ‘As soon as the funds have cleared I’ll send one of my people to pick it up.’
By the time details had been taken and the chess piece was in the safe, the auction across the way was drawing to a close and the heavens were opening up again.
‘Did that really just happen?’ Sarah said to Lucy, as they returned to the barn to see the last punters out.
Still recovering herself, Lucy said, ‘Unless we’re in the same dream, I think it did.’
‘But once I’ve paid the commission and VAT I’m going to have … Let me see … Well, somewhere in the region of forty thousand quid. Yay! Where’s the champagne?’
With a splutter of laughter Lucy said, ‘Very good question.’
‘Count me in,’ Hanna cried, bouncing up behind them. ‘Mum, that was so amazing, wasn’t it? I’ve already texted Ben and Dad. They’re going to be so like, no way.’
‘What about Granny and Grandpa? Did you text them too?’
‘No, but I’ll do it now.’
‘Send them my love and tell them they should have been here,’ Lucy instructed. ‘And now,’ she added to Sarah, ‘what were you saying about champagne?’
‘Do you know what’s bothering me?’ Simon asked, as much later that night he and Sarah strolled home from the pub where the team, plus half the village, had been celebrating the success of the auction.
Stifling a yawn, Sarah said, ‘No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’
‘Well, that chess piece was a pretty amazing turn-up, wouldn’t you say? With a value of fifty grand or more, just lying there in a box of junk that we never knew anything about …’
‘Makes you wonder where the other pieces might be,’ she twinkled mischievously. ‘Mum says we should start searching the attic.’
‘Did she have any idea where it might have come from?’
‘No. The only chess set she can remember is the one you and Dad used to play with …’
‘Which I have now,’ he finished. ‘Anyway, what do you reckon the chances are of a specialised dealer dropping in out of nowhere like that to discover the piece? Correction, two dealers if we presume that’s who Philippa was bidding for.’
Sarah frowned. ‘What do you mean, presume? You surely don’t think she was bidding herself?’
‘It could have been a collector, but to be honest I’m not really sure what I think, except I’m not a great believer in coincidence and for something like this to happen on the first sale …’ He broke off, still not quite sure what he was getting at.
‘Come on, I’m sure you’ve got at least one theory cooking in that overactive brain of yours,’ Sarah challenged as they crossed the green.
‘Not a theory, exactly, but I do keep coming back to the fact that Philippa was the one on the phone. OK, I know it doesn’t make any sense, but tell me this, where was she tonight? Why weren’t she and her brother celebrating with the rest of us?’
Hardly able to imagine where this was going, Sarah said, ‘She was exhausted after all the excitement, so John took her home. Honest to God, Simon, why can’t you just accept that something fantastic happened this afternoon, without trying to find some sinister side to it?’
‘I didn’t say it was sinister, I’m just saying it strikes me as odd that a complete stranger turned up out of nowhere to pay a fortune for a single chess piece that we didn’t even know we owned.’
‘And because Pippa was acting for the other bidder – whose details will be registered, let me remind you, so we can easily find out who it was …’
‘Then maybe we should.’
‘No, maybe what you should do is come clean about the fact that you’re dying to discredit the Mcke
nzies in some way, shape or form, though God only knows how you think you’re going to do it with this.’
Simon’s jaw tightened. ‘I don’t get why you always defend him,’ he stated irritably. ‘You’re all taking him at face value, treating him like he’s the answer to everything, when you don’t actually know anything about him, apart from the fact that he’s claiming to be an old friend of Mum’s.’
Going into the house ahead of him, she said, ‘I don’t know what you want me to say. I like him, he’s been great to me and Lucy …’
‘I know all that, but why? That’s what I want to know. What’s in it for him when he’s supposed to be rich enough not to need the money?’
‘Not everything has to be about money, but if you’re so interested why don’t you ask him? No, no,’ she cried when he started to answer, ‘I don’t want to discuss it any more, because you’re becoming irrational and I’m way too tired to try figuring you out. So, moving on, what I want to know is why Michael left so early this evening.’
Reaching for two glasses from an overhead cupboard, he said, ‘He had a call from Carlotta earlier. Apparently she’s cut short her holiday in Greece so he wanted to go and try to get to the bottom of why.’
Sarah looked concerned. ‘I hope everything’s all right with the boys.’
‘I’m sure it is, but you know what she’s like, never one to miss an opportunity to make a crisis out of a drama.’
Remembering that only too well, Sarah stifled a yawn as she said, ‘Well, it’s been a hectic few days and tomorrow’s not going to be any easier, so I have to get to my bed or I shall fall asleep standing up.’
Passing her a glass of water, he said, ‘I’ll make sure everything’s locked up, then I’ll be right behind you.’
Sarah had got as far as the door before a niggly little suspicion that had been hanging around for the past few days staged an unexpected comeback. ‘Tell me,’ she said, turning back. ‘Am I misreading things or are you starting to develop a bit of a fondness for Lucy?’
Losing a yawn to a laugh, he said, ‘Well, I admit I didn’t see that one coming. What makes you say that?’
She shrugged. ‘I’m not sure really. Am I right?’
