The New Collected Short Stories by Jeffrey Archer Read Free Book Online Page A

morning.’
    ‘Yes, I thought it might be,’ said Cornelius.
    ‘It’s just, well, I wanted to confirm the value of the table – the Louis XIV piece – and, while I’m on the line, the grandfather clock that used to belong to the
Earl of Bute.’
    ‘If you go to the auction house, Elizabeth, they will give you a catalogue, which tells you the high and low estimate for every item in the sale.’
    ‘I see,’ said Elizabeth. She remained silent for some time. ‘I don’t suppose you know if Margaret will be bidding for either of those pieces?’
    ‘I have no idea,’ replied Cornelius. ‘But it was Margaret who was blocking the line when you were trying to get through, and she asked me a similar question, so I suggest you
give her a call’ Another long silence. ‘By the way, Elizabeth, you do realise that you can only bid for one item?’
    ‘Yes, it says as much in the letter,’ replied his sister-in-law tartly.
    ‘I only ask because I always thought Hugh was interested in the chess set.’
    ‘Oh no, I don’t think so,’ said Elizabeth. Cornelius wasn’t in any doubt who would be doing the bidding on behalf of that family on Friday morning.
    ‘Well, good luck,’ said Cornelius. ‘And don’t forget the 15 per cent commission,’ he added as he put the phone down.
    Timothy wrote the following day to say he was hoping to attend the auction, as he wanted to pick up a little memento of The Willows and his uncle and aunt.
    Pauline, however, told Cornelius as she tidied up the bedroom that she had no intention of going to the auction.
    Why not?’ he asked.
    ‘Because I’d be sure to make a fool of myself and bid for something I couldn’t afford.’
    ‘Very wise,’ said Cornelius. ‘I’ve fallen into that trap once or twice myself. But did you have your eye on anything in particular?’
    ‘Yes, I did, but my savings would never stretch to it.’
    ‘Oh, you can never be sure with auctions,’ said Cornelius. ‘If no one else joins in the bidding, sometimes you can make a killing.’
    Well, I’ll think about it, now I’ve got a new job.’
    ‘I’m so pleased to hear that,’ said Cornelius, who was genuinely disappointed to learn her news.
    Neither Cornelius nor Frank was able to concentrate on their weekly chess match that Thursday evening, and after half an hour they abandoned the game and settled on a draw.
    ‘I must confess that I can’t wait for things to return to normal,’ said Frank as his host poured him a glass of cooking sherry.
    ‘Oh, I don’t know. I find the situation has its compensations.’
    ‘Like what for example?’ said Frank, who frowned after his first sip.
    ‘Well, for a start, I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s auction.’
    ‘But that could still go badly wrong,’ said Frank.
    ‘What can possibly go wrong?’ asked Cornelius.
    Well, for a start, have you considered . . . ?’ But he didn’t bother to complete the sentence, because his friend wasn’t listening.
    Cornelius was the first to arrive at the auction house the following morning. The room was laid out with 120 chairs in neat rows of twelve, ready for the anticipated packed
house that afternoon, but Cornelius thought the real drama would unfold in the morning, when only six people would be in attendance.
    The next person to appear, fifteen minutes before the auction was due to begin, was Cornelius’s solicitor Frank Vintcent. Observing his client deep in conversation with Mr Botts, who would
be conducting the auction, he took a seat towards the back of the room on the right-hand side.
    Cornelius’s sister Margaret was the next to make an appearance, and she was not as considerate. She charged straight up to Mr Botts and asked in a shrill voice, ‘Can I sit anywhere I
like?’
    ‘Yes, madam, you most certainly can,’ said Mr Botts. Margaret immediately commandeered the centre seat in the front row, directly below the auctioneer’s podium.
    Cornelius gave his sister a nod before walking down the