The sleek, black Bentley pulled silently to the curb. A pair of elegantly trousered legs and a gleaming, ebony cane emerged onto the pavement. The weathered hand that held the jade carved snake head at the handle followed. The man turned and extended his other hand to the delicate arm of the lady behind him. The petite woman, clad in a simple black sheath with a double strand of pearls at her neck, emerged and stood by his side. Next came a young Asian man, in a wrinkled button-down shirt and dark slacks, holding a laptop. The trio waited for the pair of hulking bodyguards to flank them, then they walked silently into the auction house. A professional-looking woman greeted them in the sparse but elegant lobby.
“Herr Dohrmann?”
The man nodded once and signaled for the guard to produce his credentials. When the employee had inspected them, she turned and directed them into a private elevator. The woman spoke more to fill the silence than to impart information.
“Obviously, the Gutenberg is the big draw. Although there are some collectors for the lot that interests you. The three I’m aware of are bidding remotely. You may end up with quite a steal.”
The man gave his cane an imperceptible squeeze, and without taking his eyes from the mirrored doors, in thickly accented English, said simply, “I doubt that.”
One hour later, Herr Dohrmann and his wife slowly walked to the curb and returned to the idling sedan. Their techie, phone at his ear, peeled off from the group and climbed into a nondescript SUV. One of the bodyguards placed the case in the rear footwell and got into the front passenger seat; the other guard was already behind the wheel. Only then did Herr Dohrman allow a small smile to tilt his lips. The driver’s eyes met his in the rearview mirror.
“Congratulations, sir.”
“Thank you. Let’s deliver this, and if you wouldn’t mind, we’d like to go to the Russian Tea Room.”
“Of course.”
“I’m taking my wife to lunch.”