Chapter Twenty Two

Alex was a little surprised when Mr. Expedient came into Mr. Darcy’s office.  Alex had been hanging out reading a magazine and waiting for time to pass so he could head over to the auction.

“Hello, Mr. Minor,” he said.

“Hi there,” Alex said. “What are you up to today?”

Mr. Darcy answered for him.

“He’ll be driving you over to the auction, of course,” Mr. Darcy said.  “You don’t think a newly wealthy stolen art collector is going to drive himself, do you?  Particularly not in a Cutlass Ciera.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought about it,” Alex said.  Which was true. 

“Are you ready to leave, Mr. Minor?” the driver said.

“Sure, why not?” Alex said.  He set down his magazine, and said, “Do I look OK?”

“You look perfect, Mr. Minor.  Good luck at the auction,” Mr. Darcy said.

Alex went with the driver.  Parked at the curb was a car Alex hadn’t seen before.  It was huge, silver, and somehow ostentatious and stuffy at the same time.

“Is that a Rolls Royce?” Alex said.

“It’s a Bentley, actually,” Mr. Expedient said.  “It doesn’t perform nearly as well as my Lincoln, though I haven’t had the time to tune it like I have with the Lincoln.  But then, the Lincoln doesn’t scream money like this one.  Anyway, hop in the back.  We’ve got to get you over to the auction.”

Alex got in, and suddenly understood what luxury really meant.  Up until then, the nicest car he’d been in was a friends BMW 325i from the mid-1990’s.  He’d thought that was a pretty spectacular car. 

But this car was spectacular.  Alex had not realized a car could have truly plush carpets.  Or real wood trim.  Or leather so soft it felt like the seat was caressing him rather than just giving him a place to sit.

Mr. Expedient started the car, and they rolled away from the curb.  It felt like they were floating.

OK, I think I’m going to have to get one of these, one day, Alex thought to himself.

Alex was enjoying the ride so much that he was a little disappointed when they arrived at the address where the auction was being held.  They were in the warehouse district, and the building they pulled up in front of had a well-worn sign on it that said Space For Lease. 

This is where a bunch of rich collectors are having an art auction? Alex thought.

Mr. Expedient came around the car, and opened the door for Alex.  Alex got out, and as he looked up and down the street he noticed there were a lot of other luxurious cars parked, with drivers sitting behind the wheel.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready, Mr. Minor,” the driver said, then he got back behind the wheel again, and pulled away from the curb.

Alex pulled the invitation that Mr. Darcy had given him out of the inner pocket of his jacket, and walked up the stairs and in the front door of the building.

Just inside, there was an enormous man with a shaved head, a full beard, and a serious expression on his face.  He was also wearing a tuxedo, which really only emphasized that the man looked like he could bench press a school bus, or two if he was pissed off.

“Good evening,” the giant said.  “Can I see your invitation, please?”

Alex said, “Of course,” and handed it to him. 

Alex hadn’t really taken a look at the invitation, just slipped it in to his jacket, still in its envelope.  The ogre in a dinner jacket removed it from the envelope, and Alex saw that it was actually an engraved invitation, with a holographic sticker and a QR code. 

The doorman examined it, looked at the holographic sticker and then took a picture of the QR code with his phone.  Alex felt himself beginning to sweat as he waited to see if the invitation was going to check out.

After about thirty excruciating seconds, the doorman said, “Welcome, Mr. Minor.  Please go down the hall to your left, someone there will guide you the rest of the way.”

He handed Alex the invitation back, and sat down on a chair nearby to wait for the next guest.

Alex walked the way he was directed, and noticed that the building he was in had lots of old, ornate details that stuck out in juxtaposition with cheap, modern remodeling.  There was ornate carved crown molding, abruptly interrupted with new, bright white drywall, and caulk sealing the joint between the drywall and the molding.

At the end of the hall, there were a pair of beautiful women in slinky black dresses.  They both smiled at him automatically, and as he reached them, one said, “Right this way.”

She slipped her arm around his, and led him through a maze of hallways, chatting pleasantly about the weather and pointing out some of the interesting historical details about the building.

Alex was glad she was talking, because he was entirely tongue-tied.  He was also, he realized, getting very warm and he hoped he wasn’t perspiring so much that it was obvious.

I never realized a tuxedo would be so insulating, Alex thought.  Jeez, I’m taking this thing the next time I go hiking in the fall.  I’ll be toasty warm on the trail and dressed to kill at the same time.

When they reached the room the auction was apparently in, there was another giant in a tuxedo that barely contained him.  He opened the door for Alex, and the woman who had led Alex through the building let go of his arm and wished him luck at the auction.

Well, here goes, Alex thought as we walked into the room where the auction was being held. 

For some reason, he briefly thought of the stories he’d heard about the police rounding up criminals by sending them all a letter that said they’d won a boat, and that they could collect their prize on a certain date at a certain place, and then just wait for them to show up.

He hoped he wasn’t walking in to a trap.

Inside the room, Alex was struck by two things.  One was that there were a hell of a lot of people in there in formal clothing.  At a guess, Alex would have said there were are least two hundred people present.  The second thing he noticed was that there was a heck of a lot of art on display around the room, on easels and small pedestals.  There were even some statues that were large enough to not need a pedestal.  Those were just on dollies.  Alex wondered how the heck the person who bought what looked like a seven foot tall marble statue of a Greek god was going to get that thing out to their car at the end of the auction.

A man carrying a silver tray walked up to Alex and offered him a glass of champagne.  Alex took it, and walked around the room, examining the different pieces of art.  He really had no idea what he was looking at, apart from stolen art, but there were certain pieces that he liked and others that he didn’t.  He noticed that many of the pieces he didn’t like were the ones that had large crowds around them, chatting excitedly.  Alex wondered if that meant he had bad taste, or if it meant that everyone else had bad taste.

The painting he was there to buy was surrounded by velvet ropes, and there was a very big crowd around it.  Alex joined them, partly to look and see what the painting really looked like, and also just to see what everyone else was saying.

He was struck by how small the painting was.  Given how much action was going on with people being tormented and fleeing and so on, Alex would have expected quite a large canvas.  Instead, it was maybe two feet tall by three feet wide.  It had a gold frame that Alex thought went well beyond ornamental and straight to gaudy.  Oh well, he wasn’t buying it for his own collection, so he supposed he wouldn’t judge it.

Another thing that struck Alex was just how completely ordinary everyone there was.  Obviously, they were all quite wealthy, or they wouldn’t be there.  Apart from that, however, they were gathered in little clumps, having excruciatingly normal, gossipy, boring conversations.  Apparently, wearing a tuxedo didn’t automatically make people classy, or even well-mannered.  Yet another way Hollywood had lied to him.

The bidding on the first piece of art began before long, and Alex discovered something he hadn’t known about himself: he loved auctions.  The bidding and conclusion of the second lot confirmed it for him.  The banter of the auctioneer, the competition, the energy of the crowd, all of them worked together and made Alex extremely excited.

After a while, one of the items he had liked came up.  Mr. Darcy had told him to bid on a few items, so it wouldn’t look like he was there only for the one painting.  Alex figured this painting, an odd little still life with an aquamarine blue vase, was as good as any to bid on and lose.

Several lots had been sold already, so Alex thought he had a pretty good handle on how the auctions worked.  It seemed best to wait and let someone else bid first, and then jump in.  So that’s what he did.

He got a jolt of adrenaline he couldn’t believe when he held up his bidding card and the auctioneer pointed at him, and the price went up.  The people around him began to watch and see if he’d bid more, and gave encouraging smiles.  After that it went back and forth in a blur and before he realized it he had bought an odd little still life featuring an aquamarine blue vase.  For five thousand dollars.

Fuck.

The people around him congratulated him on his win.  Alex did his best to accept their congratulations cordially, but inside he was worried about the five thousand dollar stolen painting he’d just bought on a whim.

OK, lesson learned, Alex thought.  Now I know what it’s like, I’ll keep cool on the others.

He’d accidentally won two more auctions, and had just won a third when he heard a familiar, and not particularly comforting, voice next to him.

“Congratulations, Mr. Minor,” Victor Steel said.  “I didn’t realize that you were a collector yourself.”

Alex had no idea what to say for a second.  Even though he knew he should have been prepared for some kind of hitch in the plan, he hadn’t been expecting Victor Steel to be the hitch.

“Well, of course,” Alex said.  “I love art.”

“I’d assumed that, given what I know about your line of work,” Victor said.  Alex thought he detected a hint of sarcasm in Victor’s voice.  “But all the same, I wouldn’t have expected to find you at this auction.”

“Hmm,” Alex grunted as ambiguously as he could manage.  He figured the best thing he could do was shut up and wait to see what Victor was up to, and try and do damage control (or run) once he found out.

“You really must tell me about your employer some time,” Victor said.  “I’m dying to find out what other kinds of projects you’ve been taking on, since you seem to have given up on the bicycle courier gig.”

Alex knew better than to take the bait. 

He said, “Well, you know, it’s very entrepreneurial.  Synergizing social media, that kind of thing.”

“Fascinating,” Victor said.  “I’m in a very similar business.  I suspect we could partner and really get some synergy going.  I’m always looking for new blue water strategies and ways to monetize channels that haven’t been capitalized yet.”

It took every ounce of self-control Alex had to not say, “Huh?”

Instead, he said, “We’ll have to discuss it some time.”

Alex was relieved that the bidding was about to start again, so he’d be able to excuse himself from the conversation. 

Then he realized it was the piece that he was there to buy.  He felt another little surge of adrenaline.

Victor looked at him, and said, “Will you be bidding on this one too?  Good luck, if you are.”