“Yes, it is, but more so for those I have just outbid. Let us see what they are prepared to do.”
The auctioneer repeated my bid. “One hundred thousand pounds?”
I nodded.
“You are prepared to pay that for the documents.”
“I have access to sufficient funds...and more,” I added, to stir the pot as Mrs. Ryan, my housekeeper was fond of saying.
“The funds are in a Swiss account, verified by the president of Deutsch Bank. I have written confirmation. I am certain that you will recognize the signature of the same man who has no doubt verified the funds of others present.”
Brodie made that sound I had heard quite often. I saw his hand slip inside the front of his jacket when there were no higher bids.
“You have a confirmation of the funds, Lady Forsythe?” The auctioneer called out.
I rose and approached the auctioneer’s stand. I showed him the confirmation. When he would have taken it, I held it just out of reach.
“I’m certain you understand that my bank in Switzerland requires me to verify the final amount when the bank here in Frankfurt opens in the morning.”
“I know her!” a voice cut through the tangle of conversations that had begun.
“They are working with the English authorities!”
I followed the sound of that voice and saw that short little man who had attacked me at the art exhibit in Brussels as he charged toward the auctioneer’s stand.
It was no doubt a rash decision, not exactly part of the plan which had been for us to simply walk away with the documents at the conclusion of the auction. However, with that nasty little man charging toward me and Brodie at least twenty feet away…
I was not about to let that little man upend our case and the entire reason we were there. I had previously made the mistake of misjudging him because of his short height. I was not about to do that again and did what I should have done in Brussels.
I saw the blade he had in his hand, that he had used on Alex. Having encountered him before, I knew exactly what he would do when I swept his feet. As he reached me, I took a deep breath, swept his feet from under him. Only this time as he rolled and came to his feet, I had already pulled the revolver from my bag.
I pulled back the hammer as I had practiced hundreds of times at Brodie’s insistence, and fired.
The shot caught the little man low at the shoulder as a scream came from the stage behind the auctioneer as a woman with blonde hair, and a glimpse of vivid red lip color ran down the steps with weapon in hand.
It could be none other than Angeline Cotillard.
I took advantage of that momentary shock that rippled through the bidders and grabbed the documents from the box at the table, stuffed the documents into my bag, then ran toward Brodie and the exit of the opera house.
“Ye might have told me wot ye were up to.”
“I didn’t know myself until that little fiend ran toward me.”
He shoved me out the exit to the opera house where Karl Schneider suddenly appeared.
“Get her out of here. I’ll meet ye at the rail station.”
When I would have argued, he pulled me to him and kissed me hard.
“For once, do as yer told.”
“What about you?” Shouts followed us from the opera house.
“I’ll meet ye there.”
“Brodie…!” I saw the look he gave Karl, and I suddenly knew exactly what was happening.
“I won’t leave you!” I screamed at him.
