I first caught sight of him queueing at the pay-in desk at the auction. He was a small, slim man with light olive skin and sunglasses that didn't quite fit in.
A catalogue was rolled loosely under his arm, and I could see from his pen-marks, he'd bought quite a few lots in the sale. I hadn't noticed him in the room, but it had been quite busy and, like I said, he was smallish in build and had probably stood at the back, or perhaps got someone else to do his bidding.
I handed the last of the numbers to Margaret and quickly checked the figures coming in on her computer screen, as Debbie answered the ringing phone and Colin processed another card payment with the machine. It was hot and space was tight, and I had a thousand other things to do other than make small talk with some of the regulars who came by the hatch with their stories, their ailments and their cash.
I sipped from a cold mug of coffee and wiped my mouth just as he appeared at the window, holding his buyers number and a black Coutts' card.
"Good afternoon Sir." I greeted him. "Number 67 Margaret. I'll deal with this.'
I nudged Malcolm for the card machine and told him to go back out to check the porters were moving the right things. Picking up the customer's copy from the printer tray, I glanced at the items he'd bought and the figure at the bottom, including the buyers commission that was owed. On top, I added another twenty percent VAT. I figured if he banked at Coutts he could afford it, and if he baulked at the sum or questioned it, I'd just say that one of my team had made a mistake. But looking at him and at the contents on his two page reciept, my hunch was, Coutts didn't have a clue about the world of antiques.
A catalogue was rolled loosely under his arm, and I could see from his pen-marks, he'd bought quite a few lots in the sale. I hadn't noticed him in the room, but it had been quite busy and, like I said, he was smallish in build and had probably stood at the back, or perhaps got someone else to do his bidding.
I handed the last of the numbers to Margaret and quickly checked the figures coming in on her computer screen, as Debbie answered the ringing phone and Colin processed another card payment with the machine. It was hot and space was tight, and I had a thousand other things to do other than make small talk with some of the regulars who came by the hatch with their stories, their ailments and their cash.
I sipped from a cold mug of coffee and wiped my mouth just as he appeared at the window, holding his buyers number and a black Coutts' card.
"Good afternoon Sir." I greeted him. "Number 67 Margaret. I'll deal with this.'
I nudged Malcolm for the card machine and told him to go back out to check the porters were moving the right things. Picking up the customer's copy from the printer tray, I glanced at the items he'd bought and the figure at the bottom, including the buyers commission that was owed. On top, I added another twenty percent VAT. I figured if he banked at Coutts he could afford it, and if he baulked at the sum or questioned it, I'd just say that one of my team had made a mistake. But looking at him and at the contents on his two page reciept, my hunch was, Coutts didn't have a clue about the world of antiques.
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