Page 75 of Licence To Howl
‘It’s a good offer.’
‘Nope.’
‘You have something against Russians?’
He shrugged. ‘Let’s just say I’m picky.’
The speaker on the other end of the line sighed. ‘Suit yourself.’
By the end of the day, Devereau had fielded three more similar calls. There was an English businessman who was well known for purchasing expensive works of art with dubious histories who offered one point five. An Irish company were prepared to hand over one million and the deeds to a large house on the outskirts of Dublin. An upstart hereditary Lord with investments in various diamond mines put another two million on the table. Devereau politely declined them all.
‘You’re not making my life very easy.’
‘Easy is over-rated,’ Devereau answered.
‘If we could open bids up to supes, you’d make more money.’
‘No.’ He was adamant. ‘No supes. I told you already. I don’t want a single supe anywhere to hear so much as a whisper about what I’m selling.’
‘Everything I’ve brought you so far is a genuine offer. The buyers are known to me personally. You could be quids in.’
He remained unruffled. ‘Let’s wait for now. I’ll know the right offer when I hear it.’
The broker grumbled. ‘You didn’t used to cause me these many headaches.’
‘Bear with me. It’ll be worth it,’ Devereau promised.
‘Yeah, yeah.’
‘Are you sure you’re feeling alright? I don’t hear from you for months. Then when I do, you’re acting like some kind of lunatic. I know you turn furry these days but I didn’t think you’d turn into an idiot as well as a damned werewolf.’
‘There’s method to my madness.’
‘Whatever.’
He hung up. Devereau massaged the back of his neck. If he’d gotten into the business of stealing and selling magical rings before he’d become a werewolf, he’d have been a very rich man indeed. Regret twanged at him. As much as it pained him to decline so many lucrative offers, he had to be patient. It was early days. This might still work.
The last call came a few minutes after midnight. Dr Yara had long since loped off to her bed. Devereau was lying on the shabby sofa in the living room and dozing off himself. He wiped away the line of drool from the side of his mouth and answered.
‘Alright.’ The broker’s voice was heavy. ‘I know what you’re going to say but hear me out. I’ve got someone who’s willing to pay around one point five. I know we’ve had higher offers and this one is only for cryptocurrency but when it’s converted to sterling –’
He sat bolt upright. ‘Bitcoin?’
‘Yes. She said she can transfer it to any online account of your choosing. You might prefer to be old-fashioned and receive cold, hard cash. I’m the same. There’s a lot to be said for this internet shit though.’ From the way the broker spoke, he was unconvinced, despite his attempt to persuade Devereau otherwise.
‘Make the trade.’
There was a beat of silence. ‘You’re sure?’
A slow self-congratulatory smile spread across Devereau’s face. ‘I’ll be at the pub on Bell Street in the East End at midday tomorrow to hand it over.’
‘It’s almost the Winter Solstice. Don’t you want to wait another day and see for yourself if this daft ring even works?’
Devereau grinned. ‘Accept the offer, make the trade,’ he repeated. ‘This is exactly what I want.’
* * *
Devereau pushed openthe door to the grubby pub at two minutes past twelve. The bartender glanced up, his eyes widening in alarm as he registered who had just walked in. The white haired woman in the corner was already getting up to her feet.
