Read Online A Deadly Shade of Gold by John D. MacDonald - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John D. MacDonald
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Private Investigators, Detective and Mystery Stories, Political, Hard-Boiled, Fort Lauderdale (Fla.), Detective and Mystery Stories; American, McGee; Travis (Fictitious character), Private investigators - Florida - Fort Lauderdale
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buy any of the stuff?"
"There are three lots we'll bid on, when it goes to auction. You see, Sam, a man with no taste and a lot of money and a lot of time will acquire good things when he deals with good dealers." It came out "acquah" and "dealahs." "I have a pretty good range," she said. "I have a museum school degree and seven years of practical experience." She sipped her drink, looking at me over the rim of the glass.
"Your husband do the same kind of work?"
"He used to. Before he died."
"Recently?"
"Three years ago. His father and his uncle are active in the business. And his grandfather, of course. His father and his uncle are abroad at this time."
"Or I'd be talking to them?"
Page 38
"Probably."
"I like it this way better."
"You won't get a better deal from me than you would from them."
"If we deal."
"Is there any question of that, Sam?"
"There's a lot of questions, Betty. Right now there's two real good gold markets. Argentina and India. And safer for me that way."
"Safer than what?"
"Than making any kind of deal with something... not melted down."
She scowled. "God, don't even say that."
"This stuff isn't hot in the ordinary sense. But, there could be some questions. Not from the law.
Do you understand?"
"Possibly."
"Another drink?"
"Please."
When the waiter was gone, she said, "Please believe me when I say we are used to negotiating on a very confidential basis. Sometimes, when it's necessary, we can invent a more plausible basis of acquisition than... the way something came into our hands." She smiled broadly, and it was a wicked and intimate smile. "After all, I'm not going to make you tell me where you got them, Sam."
"Don't expect to buy them cheap, Betty."
"I would expect to pay a bonus over the actual gold value, of course. But you must consider this, too. We're one of the few houses in a position to take the whole thing off your hands. It simplifies things for you."
"The whole thing?"
"The... group of art objects. Did you say twenty-eight?"
"I said twenty-eight. Twenty-eight times the price of that frog would be...."
"Absurd."
"Not when you sell them."
Page 39
"Only when you sell them to us, Sam."
In spite of all the feminine flavor, this was a very shrewd cool broad.
"If I sell them to you."
She laughed. "If we want to buy what you have, dear. After all, we can't buy things unless we have some reasonable chance of selling them, can we?"
"These things look all right to me."
"And you are an expert, of course." She opened her big purse and took out a thick brown envelope. She held it in her lap where I could not see it. She frowned down as she sorted and adjusted whatever she took out of the envelope.
Finally she smiled across at me. "Now we will play a little game, Sam. We take a photograph for a record of everything of significant value which goes through our hands. These photographs are from our files. There are fifty-one of them. So that we will know what we are talking about, I want you to go through these and select any that are among the twenty-eight you have."
"I haven't looked at them too close, Betty."
She handed the thick stack across to me. "Just do your best." They were five by seven photographs in black and white and double weight paper, with a semi-gloss finish, splendidly sharp and clear, perfectly lighted. In each picture there was a ruler included to show scale, and, on the other side of the figurine, a little card which gave a complex series of code or stock or value numbers, or some combination thereof.
I made my face absolutely blank, knowing she was watching me, and went through them one at a time. I felt trapped. I needed some kind of opening. Somewhere in the middle I came across the same little man I had seen, squatting on his crude lumpy haunches, staring out of the blank eye holes. I did not hesitate at him. I began to pay less attention to the figures, and more to the little cards. I noticed then that, written in ink, on most of them, were tiny
"There are three lots we'll bid on, when it goes to auction. You see, Sam, a man with no taste and a lot of money and a lot of time will acquire good things when he deals with good dealers." It came out "acquah" and "dealahs." "I have a pretty good range," she said. "I have a museum school degree and seven years of practical experience." She sipped her drink, looking at me over the rim of the glass.
"Your husband do the same kind of work?"
"He used to. Before he died."
"Recently?"
"Three years ago. His father and his uncle are active in the business. And his grandfather, of course. His father and his uncle are abroad at this time."
"Or I'd be talking to them?"
Page 38
"Probably."
"I like it this way better."
"You won't get a better deal from me than you would from them."
"If we deal."
"Is there any question of that, Sam?"
"There's a lot of questions, Betty. Right now there's two real good gold markets. Argentina and India. And safer for me that way."
"Safer than what?"
"Than making any kind of deal with something... not melted down."
She scowled. "God, don't even say that."
"This stuff isn't hot in the ordinary sense. But, there could be some questions. Not from the law.
Do you understand?"
"Possibly."
"Another drink?"
"Please."
When the waiter was gone, she said, "Please believe me when I say we are used to negotiating on a very confidential basis. Sometimes, when it's necessary, we can invent a more plausible basis of acquisition than... the way something came into our hands." She smiled broadly, and it was a wicked and intimate smile. "After all, I'm not going to make you tell me where you got them, Sam."
"Don't expect to buy them cheap, Betty."
"I would expect to pay a bonus over the actual gold value, of course. But you must consider this, too. We're one of the few houses in a position to take the whole thing off your hands. It simplifies things for you."
"The whole thing?"
"The... group of art objects. Did you say twenty-eight?"
"I said twenty-eight. Twenty-eight times the price of that frog would be...."
"Absurd."
"Not when you sell them."
Page 39
"Only when you sell them to us, Sam."
In spite of all the feminine flavor, this was a very shrewd cool broad.
"If I sell them to you."
She laughed. "If we want to buy what you have, dear. After all, we can't buy things unless we have some reasonable chance of selling them, can we?"
"These things look all right to me."
"And you are an expert, of course." She opened her big purse and took out a thick brown envelope. She held it in her lap where I could not see it. She frowned down as she sorted and adjusted whatever she took out of the envelope.
Finally she smiled across at me. "Now we will play a little game, Sam. We take a photograph for a record of everything of significant value which goes through our hands. These photographs are from our files. There are fifty-one of them. So that we will know what we are talking about, I want you to go through these and select any that are among the twenty-eight you have."
"I haven't looked at them too close, Betty."
She handed the thick stack across to me. "Just do your best." They were five by seven photographs in black and white and double weight paper, with a semi-gloss finish, splendidly sharp and clear, perfectly lighted. In each picture there was a ruler included to show scale, and, on the other side of the figurine, a little card which gave a complex series of code or stock or value numbers, or some combination thereof.
I made my face absolutely blank, knowing she was watching me, and went through them one at a time. I felt trapped. I needed some kind of opening. Somewhere in the middle I came across the same little man I had seen, squatting on his crude lumpy haunches, staring out of the blank eye holes. I did not hesitate at him. I began to pay less attention to the figures, and more to the little cards. I noticed then that, written in ink, on most of them, were tiny
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