She looked from Pierce to the auctioneer on the stand. The picture on the easel was of some nondescript meadows. Fairly flat fields, marked off with hedges, fences and stone walls. It could have been any of the places they had passed on the way.
The caller’s chin lifted as he waited with his eyes on Pierce. Pierce dipped his head very slightly and the auctioneer nodded back. There was a formal courtesy in his nod. The bidding rose.
As far as she could see, two other bidders were against him. A tall man, far off to the left wore a scarf in Burberry colors, knotted around his throat. The other was someone at the back who she couldn’t see.
Agostini occasionally tilted his head to speak quietly to Calhoun, but he kept his attention firm on the auctioneer. The caller pointed his black gavel from Agostini to the man with the scarf, then to the other, way at the back.
His chant rose in pitch and it got faster. As far as Princess could make out, the bids went from eight hundred to a thousand, through twelve, fourteen hundred, and up to eighteen. He pointed at Agostini for two thousand.
After a moment, Agostini nodded, his lips pressed tight together. The caller pointed to the back of the room and waited before he turned to the other party.
“Twenty-two?” the caller said, then he nodded and looked to the back of the room before he came back to Agostini. “Twenty-four, do I hear twenty-four? Who’ll gimme twenty-four now, twenty-four, twenty-four, am I gonna let it go now?”
There was a pause. “It’s with you, sir, twenty-four now, will you gimme twenty-four?” And the call rolled on like a song, urging him, pressing him. He clenched his teeth and stood still.
Agostini kept eye contact with the man as he murmured something to Calhoun. Calhoun turned to look at the back of the room, then he looked back at Agostini and shook his head.
The auctioneer raised his bushy eyebrows in encouragement and jabbed the gavel at Agostini. Agostini turned his head once.
The gavel smacked down. “Sold at twenty-two.” And the hammer pointed at the man to the far left. He spoke to a young assistant. “Carson, would you be kind and get the fine gentleman’s particulars, please?”
Calhoun and Callaghan walked on either side of them back to the car. Pierce Agostini stayed quiet all the way and paid little attention to the others.
Princess felt isolated, excluded from the silent tension in the group as Callaghan started the car. He chewed his top lip as he looked around to back out of the parking space.
She looked up at Agostini, wanting to offer him sympathy or consolation. But why? She barely knew what had happened, and why should she want to comfort the brute, anyway?
The car shook as three angular, matte black SUVs swept past them onto the lot. They kicked up a mist of dust and the doors began to open before the cars had come to a complete stop. Half a dozen men in shades and black leather jackets spilled out, looking right and left.
They clustered around the middle vehicle, where a blond man dressed in white stepped out. Pierce tapped Callaghan on the shoulder to stop, then he wound down his window and shouted, “Hey, Yvgeny!”
The group stopped as the blond man swung around. Pierce said, “Thinking of buying up some farm machinery?” The blond man’s watery gray eyes narrowed and he came near to the car. He had pale, almost white skin, and his dark red lips were tight and drawn thin between his teeth.
Agostini told him, “The whole of Marchmade farm was pulled from the sale at the last minute. Re-listed for next month.” Agostini’s head shook. “Would have been some of the biggest lots of the day.”
Yvgeny’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. Agostini went on, “Meant the auction ran about an hour earlier than anyone expected.”
The blond man’s eyes blazed and he dispatched two of the black leather jackets into the barn to check. They ran all the way.
Pierce smiled and said, “Looks like you might have had a wasted trip. Still, the countryside is beautiful out here. Ain’t it grand to get some clean air, get away from all the noise and pollution and corruption?”
The two henchmen came back, still running. Yvgeny kept his eyes on Pierce when they reached him. There was murder in his eyes as they spoke to him in Russian, shaking their heads.
The blond man’s eyes hardened and then swung to Princess. Her heart thumped as he looked her over, slowly chewing his lip. Then his eyes slid back to Pierce. “Are you afraid of me, Mr. Agostini?”
“No, Yvgeny,” he said, “I’m not.”
“And yet in other ways, you seem so very intelligent.”
His chin tilted up. “You play with big boys now, Pierce Agostini. You should be careful you don’t get burned.”
Pierce spoke in a lazy drawl. “I know what I can handle, Yvgeny. But your concern is touching.” He touched Callaghan’s shoulder and the big man put the car into gear.
Yvgeny said, “I was not speaking metaphorically.”
He squinted against the sun into the car and straight at Princess. “You shouldn’t be with this man. He is not someone to be trusted. Come to me when you need help.”
He stood and watched as Callaghan drove them out of the lot. Princess turned to see that his eyes were still on her as they headed out to the highway.
Princess asked, “So, the auction didn’t run to schedule?”
Pierce smiled and shook his head. “Seems not.”
She frowned. “Yet, we got there in perfect time.”
He raised his brows. “Uncanny, isn’t it? What a stroke of luck.”
Princess said, “So, was Yvgeny there for the lot that you bid on?” Agostini nodded. “But how come you’re so chipper? You didn’t win the bid.”
“Oh, some you win, some you lose.” She knew there was something he wasn’t saying. He added, “Just up there on the left, Callaghan. That family diner looks good for lunch, doesn’t it?”
At the far end of a yellow Formica lunch counter in the little mom and pop diner, a tall man perched on a stool. He had a knotted Burberry scarf. Princess’s eyes widened as she recognized him. The winning bidder from the auction made no move as the group approached.
Pierce sat next to him and the man put a brown envelope on the counter between them. Pierce said, “Did you have to let the bidding climb so high, Dino?”
Without looking round, the tall man said, “Didn't intend to. Damned auctioneer pretty much railroaded it.”
“I saw it,” Pierce said. “Of course, if either of us had complained…”
Dino made an elegant and discrete shake of his head. “That could so easily be misinterpreted.”
“Could sound a lot like collusion,” Agostini agreed and slipped a thick white envelope back to him. “Then that would lead to an investigation.”
Dino took the envelope below the counter. His eyelids drooped as he peeked at the wad inside before he pocketed it. “The barker just extracted some juice for himself. Upped the sale price and so his commission rose along with it.”
He took a sip from his coffee cup before he stood. “Shocking, isn’t it, the things people do to get ahead.” His hand touched Pierce’s shoulder as he left. “You still made a steal on the property, Pierce.”
Pierce nodded. “Take care, Dino.” Dino stopped and gave Princess an appreciative glance. He told Pierce, “I’d look after that one, if I were you.” And he was gone.