Джеффри Арчер - And Thereby Hangs a Tale

‘Millie told me all about your wonderful shop, but I just didn’t have enough time.’

‘I understand, madam.’

‘Actually, I haven’t come across anything I really like this week. I was hoping I might be luckier today.’

‘Let’s hope so, madam.’

‘You see, I try to take home some little memento from every city I perform in. It always brings back so many happy memories.’

‘What a charming idea,’ said Julian, beginning to relax.

‘Of course, I could hardly fail to admire the Adam fireplace,’ she said, running a hand over the marble nymphs, ‘but I can’t see it fitting in to my New York condo.’

‘I’m sure you’re right, madam,’ said Julian.

‘The Chippendale rocking chair is unquestionably a masterpiece, but sadly it would look somewhat out of place in a Beverly Hills mansion. And Delft isn’t to my taste.’ She continued to look around the room, until her eyes came to rest on the egg. ‘But I do love your Fabergé egg.’ Julian smiled ingratiatingly. ‘What does the green dot mean?’ she asked innocently.

‘That it’s reserved for another customer, madam; an American gentleman I’m expecting tomorrow.’

‘What a pity,’ she said, staring lovingly at the egg. ‘I’m working tomorrow, and flying to Paris the following day.’ She smiled sweetly at Julian and said, ‘It clearly wasn’t meant to be. Thank you.’ She began walking slowly towards the door.

Julian hurried after her. ‘It’s possible, of course, that the customer won’t come back. They often don’t, you know.’

She paused by the door. ‘And how much did he agree to pay for the egg?’ she asked.

‘Six hundred and twenty-five thousand,’ said Julian.

‘Pounds?’

‘Yes, madam.’

She walked back and took an even longer look at the egg. ‘Would six hundred and fifty thousand convince you that he won’t be returning?’ she asked, giving him that same sweet smile.

Julian beamed as she sat down at his desk and took a chequebook out of her bag. ‘Whom shall I make it out to?’ she asked.

‘Julian Farnsdale Fine Arts Ltd,’ he said, placing one of his cards in front of her.

She wrote out the name and the amount slowly, and double-checked them before signing ‘Gloria Gaynor’ with a flourish. She handed the cheque to Julian who tried to stop his hand from shaking.

‘If you’re not doing anything special tomorrow night,’ she said as she rose from her chair, ‘perhaps you’d like to come to my concert?’

‘How kind of you,’ said Julian.

She took two tickets out of her bag and passed them across to him. ‘And perhaps you’d care to join me backstage for a drink after the show?’

Julian was speechless.

‘Good,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave your name at the stage door. Please don’t tell Millie or Susan. There just isn’t enough room for everyone. I’m sure you understand.’

‘Of course, Miss Gaynor. You can rely on me. I won’t say a word.’

‘And if I could ask you for one small favour?’ she said as she closed her bag.

‘Anything,’ said Julian. ‘Anything.’

‘I wonder if you’d be kind enough to deliver the egg to the Park Lane Hotel, and ask a porter to send it up to my room.’

‘You could take it with you now if you wish, Miss Gaynor.’

‘How kind of you,’ she said, ‘but I’m lunching with Mick...’ She hesitated. ‘I’d prefer if it could be delivered to the hotel.’

‘Of course,’ said Julian. He accompanied her out of the shop to the waiting car, where the chauffeur was holding open the back door.

‘How silly of me to forget,’ she said just before stepping into the car. She turned back to Julian and whispered into his ear, ‘For security reasons, my room is booked in the name of Miss Hampton.’ She smiled flirtatiously. ‘Otherwise I’d never get a moment’s peace.’

‘I quite understand,’ said Julian. He couldn’t believe it when she bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

‘Thank you, Julian,’ she said. ‘I look forward to seeing you after the show,’ she added as she climbed into the back seat.

Julian stood there shaking as Millie and Susan joined him on the pavement.

‘Did she give you any tickets for her show?’ asked Millie as the car drove away.

‘I’m not at liberty to say,’ said Julian, then walked back into his shop and closed the door.

The smartly dressed young man writing down some figures in a little black book reminded her of the rent collector from her youth. ‘How much did it cost us this time?’ she asked quietly.

‘Five days at the Park Lane came to three thousand three hundred, including tips, the stretch limo was two hundred pounds an hour, sixteen hundred in all.’ His forefinger continued down the handwritten inventory. ‘The two items you purchased from the jewellery shop came to fifteen hundred.’ She touched a pearl earring and smiled. ‘Meals along with other expenses, including five extras from the casting agency, five autograph books and a parking fine, came to another nine hundred and twenty-two pounds. Six tickets for tonight’s concert purchased from a tout, a further nine hundred pounds, making eight thousand, two hundred and twenty-two pounds in all, which, at today’s exchange rate, comes to about thirteen thousand three hundred and sixty-nine dollars. Not a bad return,’ he concluded as he smiled across at her.

She glanced at her watch. ‘Dear sweet Julian should be arriving at the Albert Hall about now,’ she said. ‘Let’s at least hope he enjoys the show.’

‘I would have liked to go with him.’

‘Behave yourself, Gregory,’ she teased.

‘When do you think he’ll find out?’

‘When he turns up at the stage door after the show and finds his name isn’t on the guest list, would be my guess.’

Neither of them spoke while Gregory went over the figures a second time, then finally closed his little book and placed it in an inside pocket.

‘I must congratulate you on your research this time,’ she said. ‘I must admit I’d never heard of Robert Adam, Delft or Chippendale before you briefed me.’

Gregory smiled. ‘Napoleon once said that time spent on reconnaissance is rarely wasted.’

‘So where does Napoleon stay when he’s in Paris?’

‘The Ritz Carlton,’ Gregory replied matter-of-factly.

‘That sounds expensive.’

‘We don’t have much choice,’ he replied. ‘Miss Gaynor has booked a suite at the Ritz because it’s convenient for the Pleyel concert hall. In any case, it gives the right image for someone who’s planning to steal a Modigliani.’

‘This is your captain speaking,’ said a voice over the intercom. ‘We’ve been cleared for landing at Charles de Gaulle airport, and should be on the ground in around twenty minutes. All of us at British Airways hope you’ve had a pleasant flight and that you enjoy your stay in Paris, whether it be for business or pleasure.’

A flight attendant leaned over and said, ‘Would you be kind enough to fasten your seat belt, madam? We’ll be beginning our descent very shortly.’

‘Yes, of course,’ she said smiling up at the flight attendant.

The attendant took a second look at the passenger and said, ‘Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Gloria Gaynor?’

There have been Grebenars living in the small town of Hertzendorf, nestled in the Bavarian hills, for more than three hundred years.

The first Grebenar of any note was Hans Julius, born in 1641, the youngest son of a miller. Hans worked diligently as a pupil at the town’s only school, and became the first member of the family to attend university. After four years of conscientious study, the young man left Heidelberg with a law degree. Despite this achievement, Hans did not hanker after the cosmopolitan life of Munich or even the more gentle charm of Friedrichsville. Rather, he returned to the place of his birth, where he rented a set of rooms in the centre of the town and opened his own law practice.