Hargreaves sat back in his desk chair and gave me an appraising look. His colorless lips twisted into a smirk. “What’s your interest in this whole affair?”
“The Moses Weed cupboard,” I said. “I want it.”
He laughed. “As my grandmother used to say, ‘wantin’ ain’t getting.’ ”
“I saw the price on the piece the night I went into Beaulieu,” I went on. “And I’m prepared to pay that price.”
“What makes you think I have it?” Hargreaves asked.
“You have it,” I said. “So let’s stop playing games. I’m prepared to pay you the original price for the Moses Weed cupboard, which was fifteen thousand dollars.”
He crossed and then uncrossed his legs. “If I did have it, we both know that’s the wholesale price. It will bring three or four times that at retail.”
I raised my chin and ignored his smirk. “I never pay retail.”
“Why would I sell it to you?” he asked. “If I had the piece.”
“Because I know about your counterfeiting operation. I saw it in action, and so did two of my friends who were in the warehouse. I have copies of your bills of sale to Merijoy and Liz Fuller. I can prove what you were up to.”
“Then why not tell the police?” His voice was taunting.
“The police are interested mostly in violent crime,” I said. “But my clients, antique dealers up and down the East Coast, would be very interested in hearing about your little enterprise. Don’t you think?”
“What you’re proposing is blackmail,” Hargreaves said.
“Someone with a criminal mind like yours might see it that way,” I said. “I’m merely offering you a fair price for an antique.”
“And you’d keep your mouth shut?” he asked.
“Only if I’m sure the enterprise has been shut down,” I said.
“Oh, it’s shut down,” he said bitterly. “Merijoy Rucker will see to that. She’s a one-woman gossip mill. If she says anything to anyone in her circle of friends, I’m done.”
“She’s not anxious to let people know she was cheated,” I pointed out. “And I’m not anxious to let the Moses Weed cupboard slip through my fingers again. I’d say it’s a win-win situation. Wouldn’t you?”
“The cupboard isn’t in Savannah,” he said, drumming his fingers on his desktop.
“You sent it somewhere to have it copied?” I guessed.
He frowned. “It needed some restoration work I can’t get done around here. It’s at a cabinetmaker’s shop in Alexandria, Virginia.”
“I have a truck,” I said. “Tell me the address. I’ll go pick it up.”
“I’ve already paid the man fifteen hundred to repair some damaged boards on the back of the cupboard,” Hargreaves said. “So the price has gone up.”
I swallowed hard. “No. I won’t pay more. And if I find out your cabinetmaker has been making copies of the cupboard, all bets are off. I’ll go public with what I know about your phony furniture. The Chatham District Attorney’s Office can open an investigation into your business dealings. And I’ll bet the IRS would be interested in looking at your past tax returns. You did declare all the income from the counterfeiting operation, didn’t you?”
He thought for a moment, then picked up the phone and started dialing.
“Andrew? It’s Lewis. Have you started working on that cupboard I sent you? No? That’s fine. Just leave it be. I’ve sold it as is. The buyer says she’ll pick it up herself.”
“Next week,” I suggested.
“Next week,” Hargreaves repeated.
He hung up the phone, wrote an address on a piece of paper, and handed it across to me.
“Thank you,” I said, giving him a gracious nod. “A pleasure doing business with you, I’m sure.”
“This will be the last time,” Hargreaves said.
“Of course.”