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‘I can’t see that being a problem, can you, Steve?’ Felicity piped up, obviously excited by the prospect.
The young broker glanced up from the folder. ‘I have to tell you we had a call from the Hopper Foundation,’ he stammered nervously. ‘One of their representatives said—’
‘Which one?’ Felix snapped.
‘I am not in a position to divulge,’ the broker retorted, a little more confident.
‘Joanna Fleisch, right?’ Felix interjected.
The broker went bright crimson. Gotcha, Felix thought, then continued his rampage. ‘Of course it was, Steve.’ He leaned forward and patronisingly squeezed the young man’s hand, which only served to disarm him further. ‘You have to understand; Fleisch’s whole career is predicated on her “exclusive” insight into the relationship between Jo and Edward Hopper. The fact that this painting and others from the early years of their marriage have managed to slip by her infuriates Fleisch. She likes to think of herself as having sourced every painting of Hopper’s from the time Jo entered his life. Why, she’s written an entire thesis on it! Joanna Fleisch has an awful lot to lose, so naturally she wishes to discredit both me and the reputation of the collector—’
‘Who is…?’ Steve stammered.
This time both Felicity and Felix glared at him.
‘Steve, darling, you’re a babe in the woods on this,’ Felicity exclaimed dramatically in her pristine English accent. ‘It is totally understandable that the collector should wish to remain anonymous when he is selling such an extraordinary work. Darling, it’s… humiliating to have to part with such an asset, worse than losing a child. One has one’s reputation to think about. My late husband Mamet never divulged the fact that he was selling any of his collection – it’s a strict no-no. Everyone understands that.’
‘But if we knew where these extraordinary paintings sprang from, we could double-check their authenticity.’
‘I understand the bank’s concern, but ultimately it is my money,’ Felicity reminded him curtly.
Felix yawned politely, then checked his watch. ‘I don’t mean to hurry this along, but I have a lunch date at one… and if we don’t have a sale, a phone call to make.’
Steve scanned the papers in front of him, lifting the old letter up to the light and peering closely at it while Felicity rolled her eyes at Felix, who threw her an indulgent little smile.
‘Looks good to me… ’ he finally proclaimed.
‘At last!’ Felicity reached for her gem-studded mobile phone and punched in a quick text, then looked up at Felix, smiling. ‘The money will be in Baum Galleries’ account by the end of the day. Felix, you and I have some serious celebrating to do, and I, for one, can’t wait.’
*
Moments later Felix closed the door of the gallery and turned to Chloe. ‘Your sister works for the Voice, doesn’t she?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Leak the sale; we just broke the record for a Hopper. 25.5. Felicity bought the Yellow Square.’
‘Congratulations, Mr Baum.’
‘Thank you, Chloe. And get Susie on the phone.’
‘I tried. She’s switched off.’
‘What about that clown of hers? ’
‘Alfie? He told me she’s not taking calls from us until after the first shoot.’
‘Which is when?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Bullshit! I’m going over there.’ He grabbed his coat and made a beeline for the door.
‘I wouldn’t bother. Alfie told Dustin she was heading to East Harlem,’ Chloe called out from behind the reception desk. Felix stopped in his tracks; a distant memory resounded at the back of his mind, laced with a sudden fear.
‘East Harlem? Odd choice for sightseeing. Did he say why she’d gone there?’ he asked, his back to the desk.
‘Nope.’
