Page 62 of A Life Imagined
Chapter
Twenty-One
“See the feathered strokes?”
Mathias peered at the small, framed painting of a hare poised on its hind legs.There was an eerie glint in the animal’s eye.
“Dürer was famous for fashioning his own woodcuts,” Elise murmured beside him, enraptured.It was almost endearing, how fascinated she was by this stuff.
They were at an auction house in Cologne, a morning’s drive from Calais, and Mathias was about to bid on a private collection of paintings that had come to market following a patron’s recent death.He had two clients on the lookout for an original Dürer, and if he was successful at the auction, he planned to find out which one wanted it more.
“Shall we?”Mathias gestured toward the bidding room, which was quickly filling with an even split of art enthusiasts and cutthroat procurers like him.He recognized several familiar faces among them.
He sat with Elise in the second row, and his appraiser began marking numbers on the bid sheet.She scribbled little notes about pricing and her suggested upper limits.They made a good team that way.While she relied on him for the actual bidding, she had an eagle eye for quality, and her estimates were never off by more than a couple grand.
When it came to securing what he wanted, Mathias employed an aggressive bidding strategy.He was confident he could foist whatever he bought onto one of his less discerning clients—those whose wealth eclipsed their general intelligence.Getting them to part with some of their money was practically a public service.
The auction started up, and Elise tapped his sleeve and pointed to the top figure on the sheet in her hand.Mathias inclined his head and raised his paddle, making the opening bid.He was soon engaged in a heated back-and-forth with a rival dealer, Jereon Klauss.He and Klauss had crossed paths at many such auctions, and Mathias found it almost impossible to back down.The Dutchman appeared to share this same fault.
The bidding stood at fifteen over Elise’s upper limit, and she was making a cross with her index fingers to get him to pull back.She glared at Mathias as he once again moved to lift his paddle.He caught her look and reluctantly relented.The piece went to Klauss, as did the two other lots of Dürer paintings that were up for auction that morning.
Mathias was seething by the time the room broke for an intermission.He spotted Klauss in the crowd, and before Elise could speak, he strode toward the man and backed him against the wall.Klauss was a tall man who looked to be in his fifties.He wore his hair slicked to one side and had a confident little sneer that seemed permanently fixed on his face.
“What do you think you’re doing?”Mathias snapped.
Klauss blinked in mock surprise.“What do you mean, Mr.Beauvais?”
“You’re tailing my picks.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“The fuck you hadn’t,” Mathias said.
“This is a fair auction, and I’m representing a client.”
Mathias gave a snort and turned to leave.
“Just a moment, Mr.Beauvais.”Klauss reached out to touch Mathias’s arm and glanced around at the other auction attendees.“As it so happens, there’s a piece you came into recently that I was hoping you might be willing to part with.”
“So you thought you’d see if I’d cut a deal?”
“Well, not exactly—”
“Which piece?”
Klauss’s eyes shone.“The pheasant still life you purchased at the auction in Luxembourg last month.”
Mathias scanned his memory for the piece the man was talking about.There had been a painting in poor condition that Elise had convinced him to buy, with the reassurance that she’d arrange for its restoration.She’d said she had a hunch, and he vaguely remembered her prattling excitedly about it on the drive back to Calais.But he couldn’t for the life of him remember why.He beckoned Elise over.
“Klauss,” she said stiffly.
“Dumont,” he returned, equally aloof.
“Klauss, here, says he’s looking to trade the Dürers he just paid an arm and a leg for,” Mathias said.
“Trade them?”Elise repeated, sounding confused.“For what?”
“Some still life we bought in Luxembourg.”
