Neil Olson - The Icon

“Over the centuries,” Matthew said. “Not in the last sixty years.”

“In any case,” the priest continued, “while this might put off a collector, for my purposes it merely helps to establish the work’s age. And adds to its mystery.”

The lawyer cleared his throat, seemed to want to spit.

“And you’re satisfied that this is indeed the icon you’ve been pursuing.”

“The Holy Mother of Katarini. Again, I am not an art historian, but it conforms in every way to the description. Some of my brothers in Greece know the work firsthand, and will be able to identify it. What does your own expert say?”

All three of them looked at Matthew. Though he had resisted pushing Ana toward a decision, he’d been aggressive in his support once she made it, fearing that the lawyer might change her mind. He had even asked to be present for these negotiations. It hadn’t occurred to him that anyone would be asking him questions.

“Well, it matches everything I know about the Katarini icon. Of course, I haven’t tested it for miraculous powers.” Only the priest laughed. “I can say with confidence that it’s pre-iconoclastic, which alone makes it extremely rare, and that it’s a work of high artistic achievement.”

“In your opinion,” quipped Tomas.

“And according to the standards for religious art of that time.”

“You are Greek?”

A harmless question, but Matthew hesitated. “Yes, I am.”

“Then I shall consider your opinion doubly valuable.”

“So we’re agreed on those points,” the lawyer insisted.

“Indeed, Mr. Wallace,” sighed Tomas, with a long-suffering smile. “We can move on to the financials, as I can see you’re eager to do.”

“We discussed a figure a few days ago.”

The priest created a dramatic pause by sipping from his water glass, staring hard once more at the object of his affection.

“Hardly a discussion. You simply named a figure. A very high figure.”

“We don’t think so.”

“Perhaps a million and a half dollars is a modest sum by your own standards. The church of Greece is a small church in a small country, and I understood this was to be taken into account. We have never heard of any icon selling for such a price.”

“I doubt that an icon this rare has been offered for sale in any of our memories.”

“Fair enough. Yet an icon of considerable reputation was sold a few years ago for less than a third of the sum you name. That is the highest price we know of. It is perhaps lamentable that these items which we revere are not held in the same regard by the art community as certain secular masterpieces, but there it is. No one pays such prices for icons.”

“I have to tell you, Father, that we have already received an unsolicited offer of that much from a private buyer.” Wallace clearly enjoyed the silence which followed his little bombshell. Matthew was as stunned as the priest, and wondered if it was true. “Mind you,” the lawyer continued, “we haven’t pursued it, and it is not our desire to go private with this thing, but a number like that commands respect. Look, the Russian market is drying up. They’ve stolen everything they can out of that country. The price for all icons will rise, but for an extraordinary one like this…”

“Of course, one cannot account for the eccentricity of collectors,” Tomas said, recovering his composure. “I was under the impression that our only competition was institutional. Tell me, was the Metropolitan Museum prepared to pay anything close to this price?”

The priest was not looking at him, but Matthew wondered if he was supposed to respond. Instead, Wallace jumped in once more.

“We never got to that stage. For all I know, they might.”

“Even if it turned out the work was stolen?”

“You know,” Wallace said, lowering his voice threateningly,

“you are the only source for that rumor we’ve heard from.” His eyes went absolutely flat.

“It is a fact, sir, not a rumor,” the priest answered coldly.

“I’ve never seen evidence. And it’s an awfully convenient tool for driving down the price.”

“We can provide the evidence, I assure you.”

“You’ll forgive me if I remain dubious. In any event, the estate has certain minimum financial requirements, and if we have to turn to private buyers to fulfill those, so be it. I don’t think the collector we heard from would be troubled by this issue.”

“You would seriously consider such a move?” Tomas’ indignation filled the room.

“We are earnestly trying to avoid it. We are giving you the opportunity to keep the work available to the public and return it to its native soil, but you have to work with us, Father. Ms. Kessler has obligations to her grandfather’s estate which she must meet.”

Matthew realized that most of this was simply negotiating hardball, but the alternative which the lawyer threatened was exactly the one he feared, and he had to work hard not to convey his panic to Ana. Tomas became quiet again. Then the beatific smile returned.

“Let me, as they say, put my cards on the table. I have clearance to offer up to seven hundred thousand U.S. dollars. I am reasonably confident that with a telephone call to Bishop Makarios here and a few others in Athens, I could get that number to something very near one million. Beyond that, they will not go.”

Wallace readjusted his glasses and sat up in his chair.

“Well, that’s movement. We’ll take that as an encouraging step, Father.”

“Please do not misunderstand, Mr. Wallace. I have been straight with you; do not abuse me for it now. I have given you our best offer.”

“It’s enough.” Ana’s voice surprised them all. “Arthur, I think it’s enough.”

Nobody spoke for a moment.

“My client and I need to talk,” Wallace finally said. The priest shrugged.

“No,” Ana said quietly. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I know my mind here.”

“There is absolutely no reason for haste. We have some options to weigh.”

“I understand, someone else might pay more. It’s not important.”

“There are other issues.”

She looked at Matthew. “What do you think?”

He took a deep breath and made himself block out his fears, ignore the heat on the back of his skull from that ancient painted gaze across the room.

“Mr. Wallace is right. If you’re satisfied on the price, fine, but there are additional things you need to know.”

“Such as?” queried Tomas.

“What will her access to the work be after the sale? Will it be available for possible exhibitions of her grandfather’s collection?”

“Yes, I have those points here,” said the lawyer, tapping his legal pad.

“Where will the work be displayed?” Matthew continued.

“What sort of access to it will the general public have? What steps will you take for its protection and preservation?”

“Excellent points.” The priest nodded. “None of which I can answer definitively at this moment, except to say that I suspect we can satisfy you on most of them.”

“Let’s run through them anyway,” the lawyer grumbled, reasserting himself.

“Certainly any request by Ms. Kessler for a private viewing would be favorably heard. As for loaning the piece for an exhibition, I doubt the Synod would commit to such a thing.”

“I don’t care about that,” said Ana.

“The icon would likely hang in the cathedral in Athens. Wherever it is, it would be on display to the faithful. It is not our intention to hide it, that would contradict its purpose. Yet we will need to take measures to safeguard it, so that we do not again suffer its loss.”

“Of course,” Wallace answered mechanically. “I can put all the details into a draft of the contract.”