Alex stood holding the painting Victor had been trying to
make off with, catching his breath, while Mr. Expedient made quick work of
handcuffing Victor, who was still dazed and compliant from his whirlwind
introduction to Mr. Expedient’s fist.
Alex watched for a moment, before he said, “Are you a cop?”
Mr. Expedient laughed once, and said, “What? No.”
“What’s with the handcuffs then?” Alex said.
“Well, I find that they’re very useful for keeping people
put when they’d rather not stay put,” Mr. Expedient said.
“You’re not going to tie him up like Megan did?” Alex said.
“Between you and me,” Mr. Expedient said. “I think Megan
just like tying people up.”
“Oh,” Alex said.
Victor came around a little more, and groggily said, “Hey!
What’s going on?”
“You battered my fist with your face,” Mr. Expedient said,
“which apparently tired you out, so I assisted you to the ground here so you
could rest.”
“Oh, OK,” Victor said. “Thanks.”
Alex sensed an opportunity, so he said, “Hey Victor, why did
you want this painting so badly?”
“Well, to trade it, of course,” Victor said.
“What do you want to trade it for?” Alex said. “Who are you going to trade with?”
“The blonde that runs the coffee shop. Tamamra,” Victor said, and paused. He didn’t seem particularly eager to keep
talking.
Tamamra? Just how hard of a hit did he just take?
Alex thought.
“What does Tamara have that you want, Victor?” Alex
said. He spoke in low tones, hoping that
if Victor was dazed enough, he’d trust Alex and simply answer rather than try
to keep his secret.
Victor giggled, and said, “Just an interesting little
thing. But it’s secret. I’m not telling you.”
“OK. Why do you think
she’d be willing to trade for this painting?” Alex said.
“It used to belong to her family. She wants it back,” Victor said. He seemed like he was getting more alert, and
was starting to look suspiciously at Alex and Mr. Expedient.
She wants it back,
Alex thought. He remembered the odd
little confrontation Victor had instigated with her at the Bump and Grind. Alex wondered if he had offered it to her
then, and if that was what had set her off.
“Sleeping Beauty is coming around again,” Mr. Expedient said
to Alex. “We’d better get him into the
car before he causes a ruckus and things get tricky.”
In the excitement of catching Victor, and trying to pry
information out of him, Alex had entirely forgotten that Victor probably had a
small entourage with him, to protect him from exactly the sort of thing that
was happening to him right then.
“Right!” Alex said.
He’d be perfectly OK with it if things did not get any trickier than
they already were.
He gathered up the various paintings, and struggled a bit
carrying them over to the Bentley that Mr. Expedient had conveniently parked
nearby.
The trunk opened itself automatically as Alex approached
it. He called “Thank you,” over his
shoulder to Mr. Expedient, and set to work loading the paintings into the trunk
in such a way that none of them would get banged up too badly as they
drove. Mr. Expediently had thoughtfully
stashed a handful of blankets to wrap each of them in. There were enough blankets left that Alex was
even able to pad the empty space in the trunk a bit, so the art wouldn’t get
jostled around too much.
Moments later, Mr. Expedient came up behind him, carrying a
noticeably cranky Victor Steel. Alex
noticed he’d blindfolded Victor at some point.
“Any second here he’s going to get ugly,” Mr. Expedient said
as he loaded Victor into the back of the Bentley.
Once Victor was securely in the back seat, Mr. Expedient
said to Alex, “You’re going to have to ride up front with me this time.”
“Do we need to be worried about his flunkies coming after
us? They’re going to notice he hasn’t
come out of the building sooner or later.”
“I guess we’re just going to have to try to be discreet,”
Mr. Expedient said.
“We’re going to try to be discreet. In a Bentley?” Alex said.
“You saw the other cars that turned up for this event. The Bentley fits right in, here. Try not to worry so much, Mr. Minor,” Mr.
Expedient said.
Victor started up the minute Alex and Mr. Expedient got into
the car.
“What’s going on? Let
me go! You’ve got no right to handcuff
me and stuff me into your car against my will,” Victor said.
Alex said, “You’ll have to excuse my driver. I’ve told him again and again that he doesn’t
need to punch people and abduct them, but he just keeps doing it anyway.”
Victor piped down then.
Alex said to Mr. Expedient, quietly, “So, why are we
bringing him with us again?”
Mr. Expedient smiled, and pulled his jacket open slightly,
exposing to Alex the coupon for The Sizzler stuffed into his breast pocket.
Alex laughed despite himself, and said, “I love you crazy
fuckers.”
The drove away, apparently unnoticed by Victor’s goons (to
Alex’s relief). Alex was impressed, once
more, by the incredible level of opulence the interior of the Bentley
provided. He settled in and enjoyed the
ride, since there wasn’t much else he could do at the moment. Victor was still being quiet, apart from the
occasional exclamation of “Let me go!” or, “Come on guys, just drop me off
here. It’s fine.”
As they approached the neighborhood Mr. Darcy’s office was
in, Alex noticed Mr. Expedient checking to make sure Victor’s blindfold was
still in place.
They stopped in front of Mr. Darcy’s office, and Mr.
Expedient pressed a button that caused the trunk to open.
“You can make it from here on your own, can’t you?” he said
to Alex. “I’ve got a bit of a drive
ahead, and time is wasting.”
“Sure, I can handle it,” Alex said.
He got out of the Bentley, wondered briefly if he’d get to
ride in it again, and unloaded the art from the trunk. He closed the lid, and patted the car twice,
then gathered up the paintings as well as he could and made his way in to Mr.
Darcy’s office.
Alex was very glad to find that the elevators were working. A few minutes later, and he was in Mr. Darcy’s
front office.
“What on Earth have you got there, Mr. Minor?” Megan
said.
Alex hurried over to the coffee table, and set down the
paintings, relieved that he was done carrying them. For now, at any rate.
“Art,” Alex said. “Is
Mr. Darcy in?”
“Well, of course he is,” Megan said. “He’ll be out in just a moment, I’m sure.”
Almost on cue, Mr. Darcy appeared in the doorway of his
office.
“Mr. Minor!” he said. “Did you get the painting? I trust everything went as planned.”
“I got the painting,” Alex said. “Though, I don’t know if it went strictly to
plan. I kind of accidentally bought
several other paintings…”
Mr. Darcy raised an eyebrow.
“Also,” Alex continued, “Victor Steel showed up, and tried
to outbid me on the painting, then he tried stealing it. Luckily, the driver and I were able to
intercept him before he got away.”
Mr. Darcy thought for a moment, then said, “Excellent that
you were able to recover the painting, our client will be thrilled. Interesting that Victor Steel was so
interested in it, though. But we’ll
discuss that in a moment. How many other
paintings did you buy, exactly?”
Ales said, “Four.”
“I see,” Mr. Darcy said.
“I do believe I told you to try not
to win any other auctions. How much did
they cost?”
Alex wasn’t exactly sure.
He’d been so wrapped up in the thrill of the auction process that he’d
barely paid attention to the numbers. So
he made a guess.
“I think it was about twenty thousand dollars,” Alex said.
“Ah. Well, that’s not
so bad. I’m sure we’ll be able to return
them to their rightful owners now, and with anything, those owners will offer a
small reward for their return,” Mr. Darcy said.
Alex realized he must have looked surprised at this when Mr.
Darcy said, “Well, I told you in our first meeting that we are the good guys. Now, tell
me about Victor Steel.”
Alex told Mr. Darcy what Victor had said about trading the
painting for some object of interest that Tamara owned.
“Interesting. What a
small world,” Mr. Darcy said.
Alex was wondering what that meant, when Mr. Darcy said, “I
don’t think it will hurt anything to tell you that our client is Tamara
Anderson, ultimately.”
To say that Alex was surprised would be an
understatement. Before he thought better
of it, he said, “She paid for this? I
wouldn’t have thought she would have this kind of money.”
“She doesn’t,” Mr. Darcy said. “She does, however, have a very generous
benefactor looking after her. You need
to understand, though, that Mr. Ares would prefer that she not know about his
intervention. I know that you frequent
her coffee shop, so mum’s the word.”
“Mr. Ares? The guy
that looks like a professional wrestler?” Alex said.
Mr. Darcy seemed shocked, which was possibly the first time
Alex had ever seen him that way.
“Have you met Mr. Ares too?” Mr. Darcy said.
“Well, in passing,” Alex said.
“Ah. Well, then, a
word of advice for you – stay well out of his way. He doesn’t tolerate frustration well, and he’s
quite easily frustrated,” Mr. Darcy said.
“Anyway, that brings us to the matter of your remuneration for this job.”
He pulled a thick envelope out of his desk, and slid it over
to Alex. “There’s two hundred thousand
dollars in there. Forgive me for giving
you another word of advice so soon after the last: invest one hundred or so of
those dollars in a fireproof box tonight.”
Alex couldn’t believe it.
He’d lost most of his money in a fire, and had just come out ahead again
and it hadn’t even been a week.
“Wow, thanks! OK, I
will,” he said.
“You don’t need to thank me,” Mr. Darcy said. “You’ve proven you’re worth every penny, even
with a few missteps here and there. “
Mr. Darcy settled back in his chair, and cleared his throat.
He opened a drawer in his desk, and pulled out another manila folder.
“Now then, Mr. Minor, are you ready for the details for your
next assignment?”
The End!
For those of you who might be interested, my final word count for this NaNoWriMo was 50,390, which puts my daily average word count at 2,015.
So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go put some ice on my fingertips and relax for a bit. ;)
