Three-thousand, three-thousand-two-hundred for the gentleman in the back… three-thousand-five-hundred for you, madam… three-thousand-eight-hundred on the phone. Four-thousand from an online bidder.
Bidding amounts fly in rapid succession. The eyes of the auctioneer, standing at the pulpit-like rostrum, dart from one end of the room to the other, never missing a bid. The mood is electrifying. Finally, the gavel comes down with a thud. Sold!
This is a daily scenario in Christie’s salerooms worldwide. As the world’s leading fine art auctioneer, Christie’s has sold fine art, furniture, jewelry and wine since James Christie conducted the first sale in London on 5 December 1766.
Christie’s Geneva lies at the heart of the city’s historic center, in a listed 16th century building once used as a dormitory for monks from the nearby St. Pierre Cathedral, where John Calvin preached from 1536 to 1564, inflaming the protestant reformation.
Mirroring the city’s development into both Europe’s foremost center for jewelry and the watch capital of the world, Christie’s Geneva now focuses on Jewelry, Watches and Wine auctions, held twice a year in May and November, at the Four Seasons Hotel des Bergues.
The next morning after a breakfast of bagels, orange juice and two tall Cappuccinos in the hotel coffee shop David and Miriam drove through the bustling morning city, across the Mont Blanc Bridge and immediately turned left on Quai des Bergues.
Pointing at an imposing building in neo-classic architectural style highlighted with enough gold trim to impress any millionaire just as they turned Miriam exclaimed. “That’s got to be it. It’s beautiful, David. Why aren’t we staying there?
David responded quietly, “Because, Mrs. Cline, we are working, not on holiday and drove under the hotel portico where a tall doorman in a white top hat and full frock coat came toward them, showing a perfect smile that probably paid for his dentist’s new car.
“Tell him were here for the auction and ask where we should park.”
Following the directions, they drove down into the underground parking area, showed their auction passes and identification to a heavily armed, uniformed man and were directed to a vacant spot between a black Bentley Continental convertible and a Ferrari red Bertinetta. As David gently eased their rented Peugeot between the two expensive cars, Miriam laughed, “I hope I can get out without denting the black beauty on my side.”
“I do too, or we may be on the next slow boat back to the Holy Land.”
As the duo got carefully out of their car another uniformed security officer approached and directed them to an elevator, informing them that they would be met on the first floor by Mr. Metz.
The elevator doors slid open and standing in front of them was a frowning man, slightly taller than David, with bulging muscles noticeably outlining a charcoal Valentino business suit. His head was polished to a gloss and he didn’t seem too happy to see them. After showing their passports and photo ID’s to the man identified as Mike Metz on a silver badge above his jacket pocket, he snapped them shut and said, “You’re expected.” Tapping his side-arm and pointing to David’s suit jacket he continued in an almost hostile voice, “But you both will have to leave your weapons here in our safe keeping until your ready to leave the promises.” David looked at Miriam and she shrugged.
“But I thought,” David began to argue.
“I don’t care what you thought. I’m in charge of security here and you’ll do what I ask. Just lay then on the desk there, and don’t forget those little toys on your ankles also.
Grinning he continued, “Jake, will you unload our friends weapons and then escort them into the auction gallery.”
Trying hard to stuff down their anger, David and Miriam were marched down the lovely pastel hall on thick, sky-blue carpeting into the imposing Lobby. It was full of fresh-cut flowers and potted plants, bright and elegantly furnished. The high ceilings and soaring white columns bounced back the sunlight that streamed in through to porticos and open French doors. In between two burly security men they were herded to the open door to the auction room.
After they were seated, just before the bidding started David pointed to two empty chairs near the rear on the far side of the large auction hall. After walking sidewise between rows of the rich and famous dressed in fur, silk and the latest fashion in French perfume, they took their seats. Most of the grey-white room was filled with people either quietly ignoring their neighbor or engrossed in reading the auction catalogue. Miriam spotted Josef out of the corner of her eye but did not acknowledge him. David whispered in Miriam’s ear, “Check out our security friends along the walls with their roaming eyes.” She nodded and continued reading the glossy catalogue.
“There are several items going up for sale today you could get me for my birthday, if you’re in a generous mood. I’ll get you one of those bidding paddles, if you want.”
“Right, dream on Mrs. Cohen. I don’t even know when your birthday is.”
Tam walked down the center aisle and sat midway among the rows of rapidly filling straight-backed mahogany chairs, which were smashed tightly together to maximize the limited space. Behind the pulpit like rostrum was a revolving glass case and, next to it, a bank of telephones staffed by several Christie’s employees. He noticed a heavy-set Chinese man, making his way to a seat in the far left corner, and wondered if he was a watch-dog from the Triad. A blonde, buxom lady with purple eye shadow above her green eyes was a couple of rows back and when he looked her way she pursed her ruby lips as if the whole event was a great waste of her valuable time. He watched as she arranged her oval-necked, long-sleeved, blue velvet dress carefully as if she was about to hold court. She pushed the chairs on either side of her as far away from her as she could and placed her huge, shiny black purse on the floor by the side of her chair. Ten minutes before the auction, Tam noted the heavy presence of private security guards, standing along each side wall scanning the gathering guests like they were watching a tennis match. The elegant grandfather’s clock to the left of the auction podium began striking the hour and the room became as quiet as a church at prayer.
The auctioneer entered, took his place at the podium, and looked over the crowd, impatiently waiting for the last of the guests to be seated. He had a cavalier attitude that indicated he felt his position was below his importance. Finally glancing at the large wall clock, in a deep-toned voice, he announced the opening of the ninety-third auction of Christie’s International, Geneva, welcomed the guests with the warmth of a maǐtre d’ of a plush restaurant, and loudly pounded his gavel in an explanation point. From the glass case a white-gloved young lady came carrying a black leather box, placed in a titled holder on the high table next to the podium. She, with great fanfare, raised the lid, turned, and left quietly. The auctioneer referred to an item number on the printed program reciting details about six large rubies, called the Ghandar Gems now open for bidding, starting at fifty thousand pounds. In less than a minute, the bid rose to one hundred fifty thousand pounds and continued in a vigorous process driven by the slight flutters of bidder’s yellow numbered paddles.
“Fair warning now. Last chance.” Down came the gavel with a loud whack. “Thank you,” mumbled the auctioneer as though he thought that item of no more importance.
Josef, sitting beside Tam, took a small pad and pen from his jacket and wrote, Why are you so nervous, Mr. Tam?
Tam leaned over and whispered, “Do you see that other Asian over there to your left? I think he’s someone sent here by White Paper Fan to keep an eye on me. That’s what makes me nervous.”
Josef wrote, I’ll take him if any trouble.
After about an hour of animated bidding, punctuated with excited affirmations and quiet voices of congratulations, the auctioneer announced that the Wittlesbach Emerald would be the next item offered.
“Do you spot Hans, David, or someone who might be Hans?”
“Something’s wrong. He should definitely be here, but I don’t spot him anywhere.”
“I see Josef sitting besides that man he’s watching from Hong Kong, but no one who might be Hans.”
“The opening bid for the Whittelsbach Emerald is suggested at 50,000 Swiss francs,” announced the auctioneer who immediately followed quickly with, “I already have a bid for 100,000 francs, responding to a wave of a woman on one of the telephones.
“Thank you Joan. Other bids from the floor? Yes, I see 200,000 in the second row, and now from the back of the room, 500,000.” A number of paddles were quickly being raised and tension was rising with each bid.
“David there is someone there in the eighth row on the right that has my attention.”
“You mean that overdressed and over made-up woman?”
“That’s the one, but from this angle I can’t be sure, just something about her that doesn’t look right.
“Is she bidding?
“No, not yet, but she seems quite nervous.”
“More womanly intuition, Miriam?
“Maybe, but I’ll watch her. Notice her pronounced Adam’s Apple.”
“And also there’s another Asian man in the last row I noticed when we came in that doesn’t seem to be very interested in the auction itself, but seems to be watching the ones doing the bidding. I don’t know about him either.
Hans waited patiently, waiting to see how the bidding would proceed. The price was rising fast with several bidders in the fray. He still held off. Tam also held off his bid for the same reason.
“This is exciting, David. Maybe I should go get a bidding paddle.”
“Over my dead body, unless you think Levi would authorize a couple of million dollars out of his slush fund to buy you a little green bauble.”
“Levi has a slush fund?”
“Be quiet Miriam, you’ll disturb the high rollers around you.”
Suddenly the auctioneer excitedly announced, looking at a women beside the podium listening to a telephone receiver, “Ladies and gentlemen, I have a phone bid for 2,000,500 francs for the Whittelsbach Emerald. Do I hear a bid from the floor 3,000,000?”
Hans was stunned. He had not known that telephone bids would be accepted. Had he known, his disguise charade would not have been needed. He was furious.
Tam flashed his paddle and bid 3,000,500. The crowd stirred realizing that a bidding war was under way. Hans held his paddle aloft and raised the bid to 4,000,000 on his first bid but was worried because the bids were already so high and still rising. Three other bidders were hotly in pursuit until the bid reached 5,000,500, and two bidders, including the unknown telephone bidder, dropped out.
“I am now looking for a bid of 6,000,000 the auctioneer boldly stated. Do I have a bid? On the telephone desk, Joan began waving her hand as though she was trying to hail a taxi. Thank you Joan, 6,000,000. Do I hear another bid?”
Tam hesitated, then raised his paddle and bid 6,000,500.
“Thank you, sir. Do I hear another bid?” An awed silence filled the room. Now only that tall Eurasian man was left in the bidding and Hans had to make a wild guess as to how high the man would go. He decided to drop the pace down a little and bid 6,000,600. Tension filled the room like a fog hovering among the guests as all eyes moved back and forth between Hans and Tam, the remaining two bidders. Tam raised his paddle again.
Thank you sir, I have a bid for 7,000,000 francs. Do I hear another?” The auctioneer calmly slowed his pace too and allowed the tense atmosphere to penetrate. This helped more than anything, he knew. Prices always were better on days like today, he thought and milked the situation saying, “Ladies and gentleman, this outstanding emerald, I will remind you, is a naturally perfect stone, uncut and very rare. The current bid is 7,000,000 francs. Do I hear a higher bid?”
Hans, looking tense, slowly raised his paddle and bid 7,000,200. The auctioneer added another note about the flawless beauty of the stone and got another bid of 7,000,300 from the Asian man in front who never turned to look at Hans. A drop sweat broke out on Hans’ face under the rubberized partial disguise he was wearing and started to roll down his painted face, he took out a handkerchief and dabbed at the oozing black line on his cheek and carefully straightened his dress. Sweat was pouring down his armpits and back. Would it show? The funds only totaled 7,000,350 in his Geneva bank account that Christies had verified, and for the first time he considered the possibility of losing the bid. The auctioneer was patient. Hans couldn’t believe he was at the end of his line of credit, but reluctantly finally bid the total 7,000,350. Why hadn’t he had the back verify a larger deposit? It would have been so easy, but who would have thought that someone else would have the funds to bid against him. Hans held his breath and the tension in the large auction hall was tight as an over-strung guitar. He knew this was his final bid. He forcibly dropped his shoulders and took three deep breaths as anger began to pour into his body. He picked up his purse and gripped it tightly, his knuckles turning white. His right hand itched to reach for the knife behind his neck, but he could never get away with killing the bastard who had just robbed him of his inheritance, and get out of the hotel alive. There would be another day. He took a deep breath to concentrate on the future. That man was a dead man. The auctioneer and the crowd waited in riveted attention for any other bids. The pause extended. Hans sat rigid in his chair and hardly breathed.
Tam waved his paddle. “Yes, again in the back of the room, I have a bid of 8,000,000 ladies and gentlemen. Do I hear another?” Hans couldn’t believe it. He sat stonily in his chair trying to show no emotion, boiling inside, looking up he saw all eyes on him. He shifted in his seat like he was contemplating bidding again just to fake them out for a moment but finally put his paddle in the floor beside his chair. He put his hands up to his face like a woman would and bent his head as if in tears and shook his head to each side in total despair.
“I have a bid for 8,000,000 francs, for the magnificent Wittelsbach Emerald,” the auctioneer repeated and paused before saying, “fair warning now. Last chance. All done?” Sold, to bidder number one fifty four for 8,000,000 francs. Thank you very much, sir.” he said looking at Tam. You have just purchased a magnificent jewel and I hope it will give you great pleasure.”
Tam nodded his head to the auctioneer and never looked at the fat garish woman several rows in front of him. He planned in advance not to make eye contact with anyone bidding on the emerald. He, in fact, did not even know who was doing all that bidding and did not really care. This was business.
“Well that’s it, David,” Miriam whispered as another round of bidding began. “That’s the emerald auction and no Hans. What do we do now?”
“I’m still not sure Hans isn’t here after all, but maybe he was that lone telephone bidder near the beginning of the auction. I think we should leave as quietly as we can, retrieve our weapons from Mr. Metz, and see if anything develops outside the hotel.”
“This was very strange, but I think you’re right and I do want to watch some of the bidders leave to see if any are in disguise.”
They watched a man in a white coat come down the center isle with a clipboard in one hand and an ornate silver box in the other. Stopping in front of Tam he asked him to sign and take his purchase. He handed him the box and said thank you, returning back to a desk beside the auction podium.
Tam lifted the lid on the box, pulled out and opened a black bag and took out the emerald. Several people nearby oohed and aahed turning to look at it before he verified it was the same stone he had viewed at the bank a few days before. He returned it to the bag and then the silver box. Tam put the box in his briefcase. Now he had to get out of the gallery and get rid of Har Yat. He sat through the bidding of one more item before he suddenly rose and walked quickly out of the auction hall into the hotel.
The large, gaudily dressed woman threw her paddle to the floor sobbing, and angrily stormed out of the room with all eyes following her in wonder.
David squeezed Miriam’s hand and whispered, “There goes a poor loser, I guess.”
Josef reached over and shook Tam’s hand. Then he wrote on his small notebook: Congratulations on your winning bid, Tam, now maybe you can get the Triad off your back. Tam smiled and thought, you have no idea, Mr. Josef. You have no idea.
Tam could hardly believe that the emerald was now his - - - well, really the Triad’s. This job had been too easy. He sat back and smiled at Josef as they left the auction hall and headed for the door to the hotel parking garage.
Coming out of a stall in the hotel restroom a young woman looked at the figure staring into a mirror over one sink dabbing at her running mascara, and wondered, that looks strange to me. I can understand a wig getting slightly off-skew, but I’ve never seen a woman stand like that, I wonder who she is? Hans saw in the mirror the woman staring at him and without another thought pulled his stiletto from behind his neck’ walked up to the startled woman and slit her throat. As the woman sank gurgling to the black and white tile bathroom floor, Hans straightened his wig, wiped the blade on a white towel, slipped it back into the sheath behind his neck, and walked sedately out into the hall and headed toward the rear exit of the hotel.
Walking through the lobby of the hotel, careful not to slip on his high heels, Hans thought, that winning bidder is also a dead man. That idea sent another shiver of anticipation down his spine. Beside a large evergreen in a huge concrete pot outside the hotel rear door he waited and watched the people gathered under the portico. In a few minutes he saw the tall Asian leave the hotel with the scared black man. They spoke for a minute, shook hands and the African walked away. Making a pretense of rummaged in his purse Hans walked through the crowd people up to his nemesis and through gritted teeth whispered, “I hope you live long enough to enjoy your new toy.”
Tam smiled suspiciously at the gaudy blond, gripped the handle of his briefcase tightly and responded, “Thank you dear lady. I feel very fortunate to have been able to outbid you. I hope there are no hard feelings”
Hans came within an inch of slitting that yellow throat in front of him right there, but he noticed out of the corner of his eye several security personnel who has just exited the hotel. He wiped his eye with a handkerchief and managed to mumble, “Oh that’s all right, all in a day’s fun, keep your new bauble safe,” turned and sauntered down the street walking carefully but casually in his uncomfortable pumps.
Standing on the sidewalk outside the hotel, Tam held his briefcase in both hands, looked at the cloudless sky and took a deep breath.
Writing again Josef wrote: What are you thinking?
“I think I need a drink, that’s what I think. Want to join me?”
Sure, but you’re not just to carry that expensive emerald around with you, are you?
“Oh I’m not worried about that. I can take care of myself. Listen, I’ll take it back to my hotel and put it in their safe. I have already made arrangement for them to ship it back to Hong Kong for me. I talked to the concierge and he said he could ship it for me as long as I packaged it up myself. I have the packaging materials ready in my room. It’ll only take me about hour to do that, them I’ll meet you in that same bar where we met, and celebrate - - - OK?
Sure you don’t want me to go with you back to your hotel?
“No, that’s not necessary, and besides I want to be alone for a little while to enjoy my new found freedom. Remember, I’m breaking from the Triad and I think I’ll stay here in Geneva, for the time being at least. I want to drive around a bit and enjoy the sights of my new city and feel what it’s like to be free.
Josef quickly wrote: OK, if you be all right. If that’s what you want. I’ll meet you in the hotel bar at six for drinks to freedom. He put his notebook away and turned to walk to his car when suddenly the Asian man who had been watching Tam closely during the auction walked out of the hotel and started toward Tam and pointed at him.
“Hey, I watching you.”
Josef turned back toward the man, walked toward him and gave him a signal to leave with his thumb. Confused the man started toward Josef, looked at his scared face and threatening demeanor, turned and walked on toward the parking area. Josef followed the man and he got into a silver Audi, slammed the door and rolled down the window. Quickly walking up beside the car Josef jabbed his thumb into the crease between Har Yat’s jaw and his ear and held the pressure point. The Asian man’s mouth froze in a silent paralyzing scream, the sensation of the grip akin to having a knife rammed through his brain. The man started to struggle as the blood supply to his brain was cut off. In only a few seconds his eyes closed and his head lolled to one side. Josef checked to see that his pulse was still strong, reached in and turned off the ignition and left.
On the sidewalk outside the hotel, another security man smiled at her and he smiled back. He paused at the corner of the hotel to see which direction the Asian would take, pulling a mirror from his purse, seeming to check his lipstick as he waited. Tam walked straight toward the parking lot across the street, and Hans followed to see which car he got into. A security man speaking on a walkie-talkie outside by the hotel door stopped Tam. Hans kept walking to not bring attention to himself. He heard the policeman ask Tam if he needed an escort back to his hotel. Tam answered that he did not. He would be fine. As Tam entered the parking area and opened the door of a red coupe, Hans rushed to his own car. He proceeded to follow as the man drove from the parking lot. There was too much security around to try anything there.
Miriam whispered again, “What do you think we should do?”
Looking around the still buzzing auction room, David said, “I’m not sure. I think Josef is taking care of Mr. Tam, and I don’t really think he needs our help, but I’m not sure why that other Asian man just left. That worries me.”
“And what about that woman who lost the bidding and just ran out? There’s something not right about her.”
“What do you mean something’s not right about her?”
“I don’t know, but she didn’t move like a woman when she rushed out of here.”
“Well she didn’t look like that photo of the killer we’re looking for. Let’s get “our toys” from Bulldog Metz, just leave and fill Servette in on the auction. I wonder why Hans didn’t show up?”
Standing outside the hotel front door Miriam called Servette and filled him in on what happened at the auction. Hanging up, she reported to David the Inspector suggested they go back to his office, have a cup of coffee and plot what to do next.
“What’s that wonderful coffee smell,” Miriam said as the two of them walked into the Inspector’s office. “Certainly doesn’t smell like police coffee.”
In the corner bending over a small table was Josef who rose up and walked over to the pair, a twisted smile from ear to ear on his scared face, carrying two steaming cups toward them. Max rose from in front of Servette’s desk and gestured toward the table.
“Josef and I are tired of struggling to down his police coffee, as you put it, and we bought him an early birthday present. David lifted the cup to his nose and took a deep sniff.
“Miriam, if I’m not mistaken this smells like the best coffee I’ve smelled since Café Tazza d’oro back in Tel Aviv. Miriam savored a taste of the large cup, “Now if I had one of their Italian granitas with it’s coffee-flavored crushed ice layers of frozen espresso and whipped cream I’d think I was back home.”
Servette laughed. “If it weren’t for Josef’s wonderful cooking I’d probably just stay in the office day and night. I don’t know why the boys went and bought that expensive espresso machine for me, but I suspect it was really for them and not for me. Now come sit down, enjoy your coffee and tell me about the auction.
After listening to what happened at the auction, Servette stood up, looked out of the window for a few minutes and asked, “So now what do we do since Hans didn’t show up? Josef, you said that Tam was just going to drive around for a little while and then go back to his hotel.”
“Yes and when I went to the hotel to meet him I was told he had checked out.”
“That’s strange,” Max interjected.
“Everything’s a little strange about that auction,” Servette said as his phone rang. As he listened his eyes got bigger and bigger and when he put the receiver down he said, “You think the auction was strange. Listed to what I just found out about our Mr. Tam.