Page 99 (1/2)
hing no one else possesses It’s about the one of a kind The unique”
Annalisa lay down on the Venetian chaise and yawned She’d had two glasses of chaht Queen Mary was evil Didn’t she have her sister killed? Or have I got the story wrong? You’d better be careful, Connie The crossyou bad luck”
Meanwhile, a few blocks away in the basement offices of the Metropolitan Museu up the phone He had just been informed about the rumor of the existence of the Cross of Bloody Mary, which was said to be in the hands of a couple named Sandy and Connie Brewer He sat back in his swivel chair, folding his hands under his chin Could it be true? he wondered
David ell aware of the mysterious disappearance of the cross in the fifties Every year it appeared on a list of ite frohton purloined the cross herself, but as she was beyond reproach and, more importantly, donated two million dollars a year to the ated
But now that Mrs Houghton was dead, perhaps it was time—especially as the cross had surfaced shortly after her death Looking up Sandy and Connie Brewer on the Internet, David discovered exactly who they were Sandy was a hedge-fund s—typical that an arriviste should end up with such a rare and precious antiquity—and while he and his wife, Connie, deemed themselves “important collectors,” David suspected they were of the new-money ilk who paid ridiculous prices for what David considered junk People like the Breere not generally of interest to people like hireat Metropolitan Museuht extract froala
He couldn’t, however, simply call up the Brewers and ask if they had the cross Whoever sold it to theh to warn them of its provenance Not that a shady past ever stopped a buyer There was a certain psychology in the purchaser of such an ites There was the thrill of breaking the law and the high of getting aith it Unlike the drug buyer, however, the illegal-antiquities purchaser had the continued elation of owning the piece, along with a feeling of iht also convey everlasting life to its owner And so, David Porshie knew, he was looking for a specific personality type along with the cross The question was only how to make such a discovery
David was prepared to be patient in his pursuit—after all, the cross had beenfor nearly sixty years—and what he needed was a ht of Billy Litchfield They’d been at Harvard together Billy Litchfield knew quite a bit about art and even more about people
He found Billy’s cell nuuest list fro Billy was in a taxi, coincidentally on his way to Connie Brewer’s to discuss the Basel art fair When Billy heard David’s voice on the phone, he felt his whole body redden in fear, but he ed to keep his voice steady “How are you, David?” he asked
“I’ about what you said at the ballet About potential new patrons We’re looking for so The naht know them”
“I do indeed,” Billy said evenly
“That’s wonderful,” David said “Could you arrange a s too fancy, maybe at Twenty-One And Billy?” he added “If you don’t mind, could you keep the purpose of the dinner quiet? You kno people get if they suspect you’re going to ask them for money”
“Of course,” Billy said “It’s just between us” He hung up the phone in a panic The taxi felt like a prison cell He began hyperventilating “Could you stop the cab, please?” he asked, tapping on the partition
He stu for the nearest coffee shop Finding one on the corner, he sat down at the counter, trying to catch his breath while ordering a ginger ale How much did David Porshie know, and how had he found out? Billy sed a Xanax, and while he waited for the pill to take effect, tried to think logically Was it possible David only wanted to ht not The Metropolitan Museuh recently, they’d had to redefine “old” astwenty years instead of a hundred
“Connie, what have you done?” Billy asked when he got to the Brewers’ apartment “Where’s the cross?”
Following her to the inner chaarded the framed cross with horror “How many people have seen this?” he asked