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Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 59: Kondor 275
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Slade 270
As the auction began, there were a number of art objects. Kondor made a few token bids early, to dispel any suggestion he was there specifically for the vase, lest someone attach some importance to it from his own bids. The auction was in French, but international participants were able to obtain earpieces connected via pocket-sized FM receivers for real-time translation.
The vase was the twelfth object in a list of forty-three. The auctioneer started the bid at fifty euros, commenting that it was believed to be the work of Bernard Leach and bore his mark, but there was no accompanying provenance and it has not been confirmed as genuine. The fifty euro bid was quickly met by someone in the crowd, and it was inched up five euros at a time, with Kondor putting in bids at eighty-five and one hundred, until a telephone bid jumped it from one hundred twenty to one hundred fifty, after which it started to jump, participants apparently suspecting that someone knew something they didn’t. Kondor put in bids at three hundred fifty and eight hundred, and noticed that Amanda was also bidding. The auctioneer seemed surprised that the bids were snowballing, but as it reached ten thousand there were only four left in the auction, including Amanda, drug dealer Abalos, a Saudi prince, and himself. The prince dropped out at thirty thousand, and Abalos at sixty, but Amanda kept pushing, taking the bid to one hundred thousand euros.
Kondor hesitated. He did not know what was on this flash drive; he assumed that Amanda, or whoever it was that hired her, was also after the drive, as even if the vase had provenance he could not have imagined it being worth so much. She had bid his limit, but he was concerned about losing the drive.
It occurred to him that apart from the card, he had his own technically unlimited cards. C might complain, but the rule was get the job done. As they said in the navy easier to get forgiveness than permission.
“One hundred ten thousand euros,” he said, as clearly as he could.
With a look of astonishment, the auctioneer spoke, translated into Kondor’s ear as, “The bid stands at one hundred ten thousand euros. Any advance on one hundred ten thousand. You, madam? Monsieur? Monsieur? Going once, going twice, sold to Shaka Mambasa, for one hundred ten thousand euros.” He then directed one of the stage assistants to take the vase back to wrap it for travel, and from his manner he was clearly saying it was to be handled very gently.
Zeke asked, “Do we go pick it up now, or sit through the rest of the auction?”
He thought for a moment. “I think,” he said, “we split the difference. We don’t want to look too eager.”
There was another vase, and an antique mirror, and a chest of drawers, none of which generated much excitement after the runaway bidding on the Leach. Then Kondor realized that at some point Amanda had slipped out of the room.
“We need to go,” he said, and quietly rose and made his way to the rear exits, Zeke behind him.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
