Confrontation Ch. 10: On a Prayer

"Alright, alright.... We'll do it your way this time! I'll get those two if that's all you'll spend," Fernando complains bitterly.

No doubt he's working out his commission on two hundred and finding it isn't going to be the windfall he was hoping for if he spent my whole five million dollar line of credit. Frankly, I hope he doesn't get either piece because I intend to bid past him to save the fee he'd collect. I'm registered as a bidder in hopes that I can secure some pieces for the museum myself.

While I'm on the phone with Vila, I'm curious to hear more about the low-quality Inca piece which had been directed to him by Antonio DaSilva in Manaus.

"Maybe you have some private sale items that might interest me? I'm always eager to buy those for the museum, you know."

"Not at the moment. I have to talk with my picker about the inferior stuff he recently sent to me. Late Period Inca in really poor condition. That stupid ass has no idea about this stuff! I can't trust him at all!"

It's hard for me not to laugh, knowing how it went from the Recaros' back alley shop in Cuzco to Antonio in Sao Paulo with an RTag in the packaging.

****

At Southerby's on the day of the auction I try everything possible to relax a bit. Marina and I get good seats near the front, off to the side enough to see who else is bidding. I'm nervous as a cat when auctioneer goes to the microphone, and gets underway.

"First on the block is Lot 100, Greco-Roman pieces from the Stantec Oil Collection. We'll begin on page three of your catalogue with Item 101, a statue of a young woman which originally graced a wealthy Roman estate near Naples. Who'll start at five thousand?.... Ten?... Twenty-five?... Thirty, thirty?... Thirty-five?... and Forty.... Fifty, fifty?... Forty-five?... A nice piece.... SOLD at forty thousand to bidder 73."

In the same way, he quickly moves through the next ten items in the lot. I can see from the catalogue that there are about twenty pieces in Lot 100, so I go to the back to get coffee for Marina and me.

All is calm behind the scenes, the well-oiled auction machine about to churn through millions of Pounds Sterling in the next few hours. And it is surprisingly quiet on the floor too, with few pieces intensely fought over by determined bidders. I expect that Lot 200 will be much more intense.

In just forty-five minutes, Lot 100 is finished, all the Greco-Roman treasures ready to be carted off to new homes. After a fifteen minute intermission, it will be time to start selling Peruvian antiquities, the dozen artifacts in Lot 200. We sit waiting- the tension I'm feeling absolutely gut-wrenching. Will my hopes be realized or not?

Then I notice a very animated conference going on at the front of the hall.

Two stocky fellows have appeared- men I know- and they're with the auctioneer, pointing to the catalogue. He's angry and motions for the director of the auction house to come fast. The four of them argue heatedly, before the director shrugs his shoulders in resignation and steps up to the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please. Your attention please.... Lot 200, the Peruvian items numbered 201 to 212 in your catalogue, are withdrawn from todays sale."

A buzz goes through the assembled bidders. This cancellation is highly unusual and completely unexpected. He hesitates to weigh his words before continuing.

"The dozen pieces may have been taken illegally from Peru, and are no longer for sale, pending further investigation. We will cooperate fully with the authorities to uphold the integrity of our reputable auction house. Please scratch Lot 200 from your listing. Thank you."

There's a flurry of consternation, no doubt from bidders who coveted these ancient pieces for themselves. But, its all quite dignified in this wealthy crowd, and the announcement is accepted with some grumbling. They're disappointed but nobody wants to buy stolen goods.

First I breathe an huge sigh of relief, then I'm ready to break into cheers! Scotland Yard has taken our preliminary investigations seriously enough to pursue the smuggling case. They've intervened in the nick of time to save what was about to be offered to international bidders.

We've done it, my little team and I! We've plugged the drain of these dozen ancient treasures from Peru. I hug Marina and kiss her like an elated fool. The bailiff is going to seize the pieces in trust for Peru. And I know that these are a small fraction of the smuggling taking place.

There will be more treasures to be gathered up in Manaus, Belem, Sao Paulo, Cascais and Lagos. Back in Peru, more will probably be taken from Emile Urbano, and maybe others. This is going to get bigger, much bigger, before it's done!

****

I'm riding the London Tube on an incredible high, the kind a person feels when months of hard work all come together in victory. We've solved the puzzle of illegally taken Peruvian history and culture. We've painstakingly fitted together source, transport, and sale into the whole pattern of the smuggling operation.

Or have we? Like they say, "It ain't over 'til it's over."

My thoughts range ahead. There's only a final bit of work to finished in London before Marina and I fly home for some much deserved rest. I'm more than ready for it, drained of energy by yesterday's heart-pumping events. But it all paid off.

My mind wanders.

Last evening Marina and I celebrated our success. We dined at one of those expensive Argentine steak houses where they bring your choice of cuts before preparing one to your taste. It was a sumptuous feast, washed down with two bottles of wine, followed by extravagant desserts and coffee. We toasted to our victory in saving part of Peru's past.

By the time we left late last evening, we were so bloated with food and drink that further bedroom celebration was physically impossible. Thankfully Marina declined my half-hearted advances. You know how it is sometimes.

This morning the subway is taking me to Scotland Yard, more specifically to lead investigator Kilby's office. We're going to work out details of the transfer of all the evidence- every name, and every lead- which our little team collected. Apart from that, he'll co-ordinate with Interpol for any further investigation abroad, and I'll be available to discuss situations if required.

Frankly, I'm glad to be done with it. Life as Head of Acquisitions at the National Archaeological Museum is exciting enough without going on the road to track down criminals.

"Glad you came by," Inspector Kilby begins as we sip coffee in his office.

"I can't thank you enough for having those pieces pulled from the auction yesterday!"

"Jaguar, I understand you have some actual video footage of the transfer in Brazil of some of the pieces listed in yesterday's auction catalogue."

"Yes, gathered by my friends at great danger during a three week stake-out there. They saw money changing hands for the burial shroud and the rare jaguar ceremonial vessel."

"Excellent! Get that to me right away. And anything else you have, of course."

"You'll be interested in photographs of precious articles in the home of the late Peruvian ambassador's daughter in Lagos, Portugal then?"

"You have that too! Fantastic. Your people did some fine work!"

"Enough to put these crooks away for a long time?"

"Yes, by the sounds of it. Plenty of good evidence..."

Just then there is a message for Kilby. He excuses himself to take it privately and is gone for almost ten minutes. When he returns, the inspector looks agitated, some of the colour drained from his face. Clearly something has happened, some bad news. I wait for him to speak.

"Antonio DaSilva is dead," he finally says in a strained voice. "Found in his office with his throat cut from ear-to-ear. He bled to death before anybody went to look for him. We were ready to move on him today if we could... and now this."

"Dammit!" I curse. "He was the man in the middle, the guy who moved the stuff along the chain. Any number of people could have taken him out, from the girls bringing pieces to the strip club, to the big players down the line. I know he was a mean bastard, and that he was supplying goods to Portugal and to Sao Paulo."

"Yes, he probably made a lot of enemies in the syndicate, especially if the two supply streams didn't know about one another. Too bad. He could have fingered plenty of big fish, I'm sure. But news travels fast. Those pieces withdrawn from the auction are probably the reason he's dead now."

"This complicates your investigation."

"Definitely! That's why it's vital that you get me everything your team has gathered, especially photos and video. And I may need to talk to that pair who did the surveillance in Manaus, now that DaSilva has been taken out. "

"Carlos and Elena. They won't want to go back there after what happened to them."

"They must have been getting too close to the action to be roughed up like you said. It is a tough city, so I could meet them somewhere else, or even with a phone conference call."

"Good. Anything else, Inspector, while I'm still in London? We plan to leave for Lima as soon as I'm finished with you."

"No, that's it for now. Thanks, and have a safe trip back."

"Keep me up to date. I'll probably see you again, Kilby."

"You can count on it, Jaguar."

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