The Collector
Page 40
“Of course.”
“Then I will select, and I will call him. He will be so pleased.”
He was easy to engage in conversation as they went through the shop, as he showed her pieces, as she exclaimed or fumbled a bit with her English.
She found and noted all the security cameras as they made the rounds—thoroughly—of the two-level shop. Gradually she steered him from furnishings to collectibles, and objets d’art.
“I would like to buy a gift for my mother. From myself. She enjoys pretty things. You have in this case? This is jade?”
“It is. A very exquisite jade bonbonniere. The carving is Chinese influence.”
“She would enjoy,” Jai said as Vinnie unlocked the display, then set the box on a pad of velvet. “It is old?”
“Late nineteenth century. Fabergé.”
“This is French?”
“No, Russian.”
“Yes, yes, yes. I know this. Russian, not French. He makes the famous eggs.” She let her smile fade as she looked into Vinnie’s eyes. “I have said something wrong?”
“No, no. Not at all. Yes, Fabergé created the eggs, originally for the tsar to give as Easter gifts to his wife, his mother.”
“This is so charming. An egg for Easter. Do you have the eggs?”
“I . . . We have some reproductions, and one egg created in the early twentieth century. But most of the Imperial eggs, and those from that era, are in private collections or museums.”
“I see. Perhaps my husband will want one and find it one day, but this box—this bonboon?”
“Bonbonniere.”
“Bonbonniere,” she repeated carefully. “I think it would please my mother. You can keep it for me? With the other selections? But this is for me to buy, for my mother, you understand?”
“Perfectly.”
As do I, she thought. He knows of the egg. He knows where it is.
“I have taken so much of your time already,” she began.
“Not at all.”
“I would like to call my husband, ask him to come, to see the selections. He may see other things, you understand, or find something I selected not right? But I believe I have done very well with your valued assistance. I will tell you, I hope it does not insult, that he will wish to negotiate. He is a businessman.”
“Naturally. I’ll be happy to discuss prices with him.”
“You are very good. I will call him now.”
“Let me give you some privacy.”
As he stepped aside, Janis finished with a customer. “Do you think she’s serious?” Janis murmured.
“I do. We’ll have to see if the husband is, but she’s got a canny eye. And she may play subservient, but she knows who’s in charge.”
“Well, she sort of reeks—in a quiet way—of money and class. Add indulgence. And she’s gorgeous. I bet you’re right and she talks him into most of it, and wow, that’s a sale, Mr. V.”
“Not a bad Saturday afternoon.”
“We close in thirty.”
“You go on. You and Lou. It’ll take more than thirty to settle this one.”
“I can stay. It’s not a problem.”
“No, you go on. I’ll close up. If this turns out like I feel it will, I might just drive up to Connecticut tonight after all. It’ll give me a nice boost. I’ll be back in New York Tuesday. You call if you need anything on Monday.”
“You take care, Mr. V.” She hugged him, one good, strong squeeze. “You take care.”
“I will. I’ll see you Tuesday morning.”
Jai moved toward them as she tucked her phone back in her bag. “Excuse me. My husband is happy to come, but he is not close. It will take perhaps twenty minutes? But you are to close?”
“Our regular hours, but I’ll stay and work with your husband.”
“A private negotiation? But this for you is much trouble.”
“A pleasure, I promise you. Why don’t I make us some tea while we wait? Or pour us a glass of wine.”
“A glass of wine?” She sent him a sparkling smile. “A small celebration?”
“I’ll just be a moment.”
“Your employer,” Jai said to Janis, taking care to note where Vinnie went, how he got there. “He is so knowledgeable, and so patient.”
“He’s the best there is.”
“It must be happy for you, to work every day with such beauty and strong art.”
“I love my job, and my boss.”
“If it is not too ahead. No, not ahead . . . forward, may I ask? Up the stairs I found a bonbonniere for my mother—a gift. This is Fabergé?”
“The jade, yes. It’s wonderful.”
“I think it is wonderful, and my mother will enjoy it. But I asked about this Fabergé, and if Mr. Tartelli had any of the famous eggs. He seemed sad when I asked this. Do you know if I said something to upset him?”
“I’m sure you didn’t. He might have been sad to disappoint you as we don’t have any of the important Fabergé eggs.”
“Ah.” Jai nodded. She knows nothing of it, Jai concluded, this hovering clerk. So she smiled. “If that is all, that is no thing. I am not disappointed.”
Vinnie came out with a tray holding wine, cheese and little crackers. “Here we are. A little celebration.”
“Thank you. How very kind. I feel friends here.”
“We think of our clients as our friends. Please, sit and enjoy. Janis, you go home now. You and Lou.”
“On our way. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Castle. I hope you come see us again.”
“You must have a good weekend.” Jai sat in a pretty little chair, lifted a glass of ruby red wine. “I am glad to be in New York. I enjoy New York very much. I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Tartelli.”
“And I yours, Mrs. Castle.” He tapped his glass to hers. “How long have you been in New York?”
“Oh, only days, but not the first time. My husband has much business here now, so we will come and live here, and we will travel back to London, where he also has much business. And to Hong Kong. There is my family so it is good to go back, but it is good to be here.”
“What business is your husband’s?”
“He does many things with finance and with property. It is more than I understand. When we have guests we must have the unique as you have here. Unique is important. And he must have what makes him happy so he is happy in his home and his work.”
“Then I will select, and I will call him. He will be so pleased.”
He was easy to engage in conversation as they went through the shop, as he showed her pieces, as she exclaimed or fumbled a bit with her English.
She found and noted all the security cameras as they made the rounds—thoroughly—of the two-level shop. Gradually she steered him from furnishings to collectibles, and objets d’art.
“I would like to buy a gift for my mother. From myself. She enjoys pretty things. You have in this case? This is jade?”
“It is. A very exquisite jade bonbonniere. The carving is Chinese influence.”
“She would enjoy,” Jai said as Vinnie unlocked the display, then set the box on a pad of velvet. “It is old?”
“Late nineteenth century. Fabergé.”
“This is French?”
“No, Russian.”
“Yes, yes, yes. I know this. Russian, not French. He makes the famous eggs.” She let her smile fade as she looked into Vinnie’s eyes. “I have said something wrong?”
“No, no. Not at all. Yes, Fabergé created the eggs, originally for the tsar to give as Easter gifts to his wife, his mother.”
“This is so charming. An egg for Easter. Do you have the eggs?”
“I . . . We have some reproductions, and one egg created in the early twentieth century. But most of the Imperial eggs, and those from that era, are in private collections or museums.”
“I see. Perhaps my husband will want one and find it one day, but this box—this bonboon?”
“Bonbonniere.”
“Bonbonniere,” she repeated carefully. “I think it would please my mother. You can keep it for me? With the other selections? But this is for me to buy, for my mother, you understand?”
“Perfectly.”
As do I, she thought. He knows of the egg. He knows where it is.
“I have taken so much of your time already,” she began.
“Not at all.”
“I would like to call my husband, ask him to come, to see the selections. He may see other things, you understand, or find something I selected not right? But I believe I have done very well with your valued assistance. I will tell you, I hope it does not insult, that he will wish to negotiate. He is a businessman.”
“Naturally. I’ll be happy to discuss prices with him.”
“You are very good. I will call him now.”
“Let me give you some privacy.”
As he stepped aside, Janis finished with a customer. “Do you think she’s serious?” Janis murmured.
“I do. We’ll have to see if the husband is, but she’s got a canny eye. And she may play subservient, but she knows who’s in charge.”
“Well, she sort of reeks—in a quiet way—of money and class. Add indulgence. And she’s gorgeous. I bet you’re right and she talks him into most of it, and wow, that’s a sale, Mr. V.”
“Not a bad Saturday afternoon.”
“We close in thirty.”
“You go on. You and Lou. It’ll take more than thirty to settle this one.”
“I can stay. It’s not a problem.”
“No, you go on. I’ll close up. If this turns out like I feel it will, I might just drive up to Connecticut tonight after all. It’ll give me a nice boost. I’ll be back in New York Tuesday. You call if you need anything on Monday.”
“You take care, Mr. V.” She hugged him, one good, strong squeeze. “You take care.”
“I will. I’ll see you Tuesday morning.”
Jai moved toward them as she tucked her phone back in her bag. “Excuse me. My husband is happy to come, but he is not close. It will take perhaps twenty minutes? But you are to close?”
“Our regular hours, but I’ll stay and work with your husband.”
“A private negotiation? But this for you is much trouble.”
“A pleasure, I promise you. Why don’t I make us some tea while we wait? Or pour us a glass of wine.”
“A glass of wine?” She sent him a sparkling smile. “A small celebration?”
“I’ll just be a moment.”
“Your employer,” Jai said to Janis, taking care to note where Vinnie went, how he got there. “He is so knowledgeable, and so patient.”
“He’s the best there is.”
“It must be happy for you, to work every day with such beauty and strong art.”
“I love my job, and my boss.”
“If it is not too ahead. No, not ahead . . . forward, may I ask? Up the stairs I found a bonbonniere for my mother—a gift. This is Fabergé?”
“The jade, yes. It’s wonderful.”
“I think it is wonderful, and my mother will enjoy it. But I asked about this Fabergé, and if Mr. Tartelli had any of the famous eggs. He seemed sad when I asked this. Do you know if I said something to upset him?”
“I’m sure you didn’t. He might have been sad to disappoint you as we don’t have any of the important Fabergé eggs.”
“Ah.” Jai nodded. She knows nothing of it, Jai concluded, this hovering clerk. So she smiled. “If that is all, that is no thing. I am not disappointed.”
Vinnie came out with a tray holding wine, cheese and little crackers. “Here we are. A little celebration.”
“Thank you. How very kind. I feel friends here.”
“We think of our clients as our friends. Please, sit and enjoy. Janis, you go home now. You and Lou.”
“On our way. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Castle. I hope you come see us again.”
“You must have a good weekend.” Jai sat in a pretty little chair, lifted a glass of ruby red wine. “I am glad to be in New York. I enjoy New York very much. I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Tartelli.”
“And I yours, Mrs. Castle.” He tapped his glass to hers. “How long have you been in New York?”
“Oh, only days, but not the first time. My husband has much business here now, so we will come and live here, and we will travel back to London, where he also has much business. And to Hong Kong. There is my family so it is good to go back, but it is good to be here.”
“What business is your husband’s?”
“He does many things with finance and with property. It is more than I understand. When we have guests we must have the unique as you have here. Unique is important. And he must have what makes him happy so he is happy in his home and his work.”
