Brilliant by Marne Davis Kellogg Read Free Book Online

take the sins of envy, greed, and covetousness and transform them into irresistible, even desirable, virtues.
    Bertram’s family background—he was an Eton and Oxford man— and body of knowledge provided him with uncrackable confidence and unprecedented carte blanche access to potential clients. His deference to his new chief, Owen, more resembled respectful camaraderie than subordination. He could do more for Brace than Brace could do for him, and they both knew it. Adding Bertram’s name to the letterhead as president and chief auctioneer was not only Brace’s first significant management acquisition and public declaration that he meant business, but also provided blue-ribbon credibility to the leadership team.
    Owen lured him away from Christie’s by offering a doubled salary and a larger cut of the action. People were stunned when Bertram jumped the monolithic mother ship and signed on with the buccaneer. But, like me, he was drawn by Brace’s proven success in other fields, not to mention his prowess. Owen was fearless, he ate risk for breakfast. Everyone in the business, loyalists and skeptics alike, was curious to see if he could pull it off—resuscitate Ballantine’s and move it into the big leagues—and if he could, how he would do it. In the auction world, it was the insider’s opportunity of a lifetime. If you had the guts.
    He and Bertram started slashing sellers’ commissions, which threw the other houses into even greater uproar. The risk was unprecedented, foolhardy, and the possibility that his strategy would work was pooh-poohed.
    “It’s a great way to go broke,” an unnamed official was quoted in the paper. “We wish Mr. Brace all the success he so richly deserves.”
    Another article questioned Owen’s integrity. It didn’t faze him a bit.
    “That’s their problem,” he responded. “They wouldn’t know integrity if it sat on their heads. My responsibilities are Brace International’s bank account and happy shareholders. In that order.”
    What an incredibly gritty and cold-blooded attitude, I thought. Especially when his bank account was in the red and the hapless shareholders were in the dark! It was like working for the devil!
    The trick required to turn around Ballantine & Company was not only to make sure goods were auctioned for exorbitant prices—for which we needed exorbitant, sought-after estates—but also to jimmy around the buyers’ and sellers’ commissions—shaving a little here, adding a little there—which was where the house made its money.
    Auction house commissions are based on a fairly complicated, sliding-scale formula, but a good rule of thumb is that the seller’s commission, that which is paid to the house as a fee for selling one’s estate, is 10 percent; while the buyer’s commission, that which is paid to the house by the person buying the goods, is 17 percent. Therefore, if the house has sold your aunt Mary’s sterling silver tea set for one hundred dollars, you will receive ninety dollars: one hundred dollars less 10 percent. And if you’re the one who bought Aunt Mary’s tea set at auction for one hundred dollars, you’ll pay one hundred seventeen dollars: One hundred dollars plus 17 percent. So, from the hundred-dollar sale, the house made twenty-seven dollars. A respectable markup of 27 percent.
    “Carstairs Manor is a gold mine,” Bertram continued. “Here’s another batch of photos.” He pulled a thick packet out of his briefcase. “They’re not the best, there’s so little light in most of the house—but look at the marquetry and veneer on this seventeenth-century sideboard. I’ve seldom seen such intricate craftsmanship, and it’s in perfect condition.”
    Owen studied the top photo carefully through his glasses and whistled under his breath. “Sweet.” He drew the word out as though he were admiring a girl on a street corner.
    “That piece alone could bring over 8 million,” Bertram told him. “The place is packed with