Next in Line (William Warwick, #5)(53)

‘I believe Mr Faulkner would consider two hundred million a fair price, given his present circumstances,’ said Booth Watson, picking up Lee’s earlier expression.

‘Then I won’t waste any more of your time,’ said Lee standing up. ‘No doubt you have other interested parties, who would be only too willing to write a cheque for two hundred million without asking too many questions.’

‘If my client were to consider your offer of one hundred million,’ said Booth Watson, trying to recover his composure, ‘would it be possible for the money to be deposited with a bank in Hong Kong?’

‘I have a controlling interest in two banks in the protectorate,’ said Lee as the young woman reappeared and cleared the table.

‘And could you give a guarantee that no items from Mr Faulkner’s collection would come on the market in the near future? Because that could cause him considerable embarrassment.’

‘Look around you, Mr Booth Watson,’ said Lee as he sat back down, ‘and you will see I am a collector, not a dealer. I can assure you none of the works will come up for sale during my lifetime.’

‘Before I consult my client, Mr Lee, can I also confirm that one hundred million pounds is your final offer?’

‘Dollars, Mr Booth Watson. I don’t deal in pounds. It’s not a currency I feel safe with.’

‘I’ll let you know my client’s answer as soon as I have consulted him,’ said Booth Watson, heaving himself up out of his chair.

‘As I’ll be in London for the next few weeks, please feel free to call me at any time,’ said Lee. ‘A simple yes or no will suffice, as I wouldn’t want to waste your time.’ He rose from his seat and once again the young woman reappeared as if he’d waved a wand. Lee bowed low, but not as low as the woman, who accompanied Booth Watson out of the room and back to the lift.

As the doors slid closed, she bowed once more before returning to the suite.

‘What did you think of our guest, Mai Ling?’ Lee asked as she re-entered the room.

‘Not a man I would trust.’

‘I agree with you. In fact, I’m not convinced Mr Faulkner is even aware that the meeting was taking place.’

‘What would convince you either way?’

‘If Booth Watson accepts my offer of one hundred million dollars, you can be fairly sure he isn’t representing his client, but himself, because I don’t think Mr Faulkner would consider parting with a collection it’s taken him a lifetime to put together for such a paltry sum.’

‘I can think of another way you can find out if he’s telling the truth, Father,’ said Mai Ling.

? ? ?

‘Audrey’s such an excellent cook,’ said Beth, ‘that, whenever we visit you, I always feel guilty about my feeble efforts in the kitchen. Not that William ever complains.’

‘You have other gifts,’ said Julian, ‘which I can assure you Audrey greatly admires. Not least how well you’re doing at the museum.’

‘That may not be the case for much longer.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Is that the reason you wanted to see me?’

Beth nodded. ‘I’m afraid so. I can’t pretend I’m enjoying working under the new director, and although I don’t think he’d consider sacking me, unless he found me with my hand in the till, I’m seriously considering resigning.’

‘Would you be able to find an equivalent position in another gallery?’ asked Julian.

‘Not easily. They don’t come up that often. The irony is the Tate approached me a few months ago to ask if I’d be interested in the post of deputy director. I would definitely have considered the offer if Tim Knox hadn’t told me he’d already recommended me to the board as his replacement.’

‘Is the job at the Tate still available?’

‘No. It was filled by an outstanding candidate from the V&A, who I’m told is doing an excellent job.’

‘Then my advice would be to stay put until another opportunity arises. You won’t enjoy being unemployed, not to mention the loss of income.’

‘That’s the real reason I needed to seek your advice, Julian. I’d like to take advantage of an opportunity that’s arisen, but it poses a bit of a moral dilemma for me.’

‘Details, details,’ demanded Julian as if dealing with one of his clients.

‘I may have come across a pencil drawing by Rembrandt, which is coming up for sale at a small auction house in Pittsburgh.’

‘So, where’s the moral dilemma?’

‘The drawing isn’t listed as a Rembrandt, but by an unknown artist. The truth is, I’m not altogether certain about it myself. But if I’m right, it could be worth up to forty thousand pounds while the auction house’s estimate is only two hundred dollars.’

‘That’s called experience and scholarship, while at the same time being willing to take a punt,’ said Julian. ‘It’s not your fault the auction house hasn’t done its homework.’

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ said Beth. ‘But should I tell Sloane about my possible discovery, or should I risk two hundred dollars of my own money, in the hope of making a killing myself?’

‘What would you have done if Tim Knox was still director?’