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“Get on with it, then,” Okoro muttered.
“Yes, come on,” Pastor Merlin Gillette shouted, his voice nasal and sharp-edged like the engine of a dirt bike. “Get on with it, woman!”
“We will get on with it,” the Bookseller snapped, firing the old man a warning look. “At my leisure. I will take no more interruptions from the floor. If you want to speak you raise your hand. Is that clear?”
The audience stared back silently.
“Ladies and gentlemen, for those of you who have your own special books, I thank you for handing them over to Elias.” The Bookseller gestured to the back of the ballroom, where Elias stood in the doorway, the briefcase in his hand. “As is customary, the Bookkeeper will now depart to a safe location elsewhere in the hotel. He will return once the auction is over, and any special books will be returned to you upon your departure.”
Elias nodded and then left. Lottie said nothing for a few beats, letting the crowd watch him go. At the same moment the security man she had sent to retrieve Izzy and Lund appeared, with the two of them trailing behind. He led the giant and the girl around the edge of the room.
“Now,” she said. “Down to business. You are here tonight to bid for ownership of the Book of Pain.”
She gestured to Lund as the big man arrived at the front of the ballroom and he stepped up onto the platform next to her, towering over her. He passed her the book and she held it aloft, like a preacher with the Bible. All eyes fixed upon it. Lund stepped down again and walked back to the side of the ballroom to stand next to Izzy.
“This is the Book of Pain. The cover is colored purple and green,” she said. “I can confirm its authenticity and good condition.” She opened the book at a random page and held it up so that everyone in the room could see the contents. “Whoever possesses the Book of Pain is able to cause considerable suffering and agony in others,” Lottie said.
“It is the devil’s work, if ever I saw it!” Merlin Gillette croaked, ignoring Lottie’s instruction to raise a hand before speaking.
In response to the remark Elizabeth Fraser, the woman who had come with the Book of Health, raised a hand, and Lottie nodded at her to speak.
“The Book of Pain will also remove pain from others,” she said, her voice a surprising and pleasing alto. “It is the power of relief, as much as it is the power of suffering. It is no devilry. That is the comment of a man with a superstitious and underdeveloped mind.”
A few people sniggered. Merlin Gillette turned to face the older woman where she stood, a few feet behind him.
“I’ll show you an underdeveloped mind, you witch!” he shouted.
“You already have, young man,” Elizabeth said mildly.
Gillette’s daughter restrained him, whispering something in his ear, and the man turned back to the front.
“That’s enough!” Lottie called, sounding sterner than she felt. This sort of friction before the bidding always helped. It was the fight before the lovemaking. “You will all behave, or I will have you removed.”
Merlin Gillette threw her a mutinous glance but said nothing.
“Let us try it out,” someone called from the back of the crowd.
The call was answered by Okoro. “Yes, let us try it on someone to prove it is real.”
“No,” the Bookseller answered, her tone firm. “Nobody is using the Book of Pain at this auction. It is authentic. If you do not trust me, you do not have to bid and you are free to leave before we start.”
She waited. Nobody moved. The hall was silent.
“Very well,” she said. “Now we can get on with the auction. The currency is US dollars, naturally. Raise your hand to bid. We will assume increments of five hundred thousand dollars unless you specify otherwise. The bidding will continue until we have a successful bidder. Money will be transferred immediately and once received by my bank, the Book of Pain will be released.”
The audience shuffled and readied itself, people throwing glances around and trying to judge the appetites and wealth of opponents. In the mirrors around the edges of the ballroom, reflections of the audience did the same.
Then Lottie asked, “Who will open the bidding at fifteen million dollars?”
Nobody moved, nobody bid. The event that everyone had been waiting for, the moment, had arrived. Like wary boxers, nobody wanted to throw the first punch.
“Fifteen million dollars!”
The bid came from the back of the room, a woman’s voice, shrill and piercing. It was one of the twins from Shanghai. There were rumors they were antiquarians or art collectors. There were also rumors they really worked for the Communist Party.
“Thank you, Ms. Li,” the Bookseller said. “The auction is underway.”
The auction proceeded, bids coming slowly at first, cautiously, but then the energy changed, the confidence and determination growing, and the price for the Book of Pain climbed steadily higher.
