Cat O'Nine Tales and Other Stories - Jeffrey Archer [43]
Max arrived in Sloane Square a few minutes before four, and took a seat on a bench opposite the statue of Sir Francis Drake. He began to rehearse his new script. When he heard the clock on a nearby tower chime four times, he leaped up and walked briskly across to Cadogan Square. He stopped at No 16, climbed the steps, and rang the doorbell.
James Kennington opened the door and greeted his guest with a smile.
“I rang earlier this morning,” explained Max. “My name’s Glover.”
James Kennington ushered him through to the drawing room and offered Max a seat by an unlit fire. The younger brother took the seat opposite him.
Although the apartment was spacious, even grand, there were one or two clear outlines on the walls to suggest where pictures had once hung. Max suspected that they were not being cleaned or reframed. Gossip columns regularly referred to the Hon. James’s drinking habits and hinted at several unpaid gambling debts.
When Max came to the end of his tale, he was well prepared for the Hon. James’s first question.
“How much do you imagine the piece will fetch, Mr. Glover?”
“A few hundred dollars,” Max replied. “That’s assuming your brother doesn’t find out about the auction.” He paused, sipped his tea, and added, “In excess of fifty thousand, if he does.”
“But I don’t have fifty thousand,” said James, something else Max was well aware of. “And if my brother were to find out,” James continued, “there would be nothing I could do about it. The terms of the will couldn’t be clearer—whoever finds the red king inherits the set.”
“I’d be willing to put up the necessary capital to secure the piece,” said Max, not missing a beat, “if in turn you would then agree to sell me the set.”
“And how much would you be willing to pay?” asked James.
“Half a million,” said Max.
“But Sotheby’s have already valued a complete set at over a million,” protested James.
“That may well be the case,” said Max, “but half a million is surely better than nothing, which would be the outcome if your brother were to learn of the red king’s existence.”
“But you said that the red king might sell for a few hundred—”
“In which case, I would require only a thousand pounds in advance, against two and a half percent of the hammer price,” said Max for the second time that afternoon.
“That’s a risk I am quite willing to take,” said James with the smile of someone who believes he has gained the upper hand. “If the red king should sell for less than fifty thousand,” he continued, “I’d be able to raise the money myself. If it goes for more than fifty thousand, you can purchase the piece and I’ll sell you the set for half a million.” James sipped his tea, before adding, “I can’t lose either way.”
Neither can I, thought Max, as he extracted a contract from an inside pocket. James read the document slowly. He looked up and said, “You obviously felt confident that I would fall in with your plan, Mr. Glover.”
“If you hadn’t,” said Max, “my next visit would have been to your brother, which would have left you with nothing. At least now, to quote you, you can’t lose either way.”
“Presumably I will have to travel to New York,” said James.
“Not necessary,” replied Max. “You can bid for the piece by phone, which has the added advantage that no one else will know who’s on the other end of the line.”
“But how do I go about that?” asked James.
“It couldn’t be easier,” Max assured him. “The New York sale begins at two in the afternoon, which will be seven o’clock in the evening in London. The red king is lot twenty-three, so I’ll arrange for Phillips to place a call through to you once they reach lot twenty-one. Just be sure you’re sitting by the phone, with no one else blocking the line.”
“And you’ll take over, if it goes above fifty thousand?”
“You have my word,” said Max, looking him straight in the eye.
Max flew to New York the weekend before the sale was due to take place. He booked himself into a small hotel on the East Side and settled for a room not much larger than our cell, but then he only had enough money left over to cover the endgame.
Max