The Auction House

by Vito Zuppardo

  Agent Barnes looked around the table. “Do any of these names ring a bell?”

  Mario gave a glance to Howard, then they both frowned and shook their heads. “Never heard of them,” Mario said.

  “Hold on,” the Chief said. “You’re telling me Roland Rockford, the son of one of the cities wealthiest families, is involved?”

  “Yes,” Tom answered.

  Mario quickly covered himself. “Oh, that Rockford.” He felt like the agents might know the answers to all the questions, much like he did when pressuring a witness. He came clean. “Katherine Fontenot, do they call her Kate?”

  “I only have legal names,” Tom said.

  “I might know her,” Mario whispered.

  The Chief shot him a side view. “Mario? Were you not engaged to her?”

  “Engaged a long time ago to a Kate, but I don’t know a Katherine.”

  “How about this Julie Wong?” Ralph butted in. “Your task force hasn’t heard of her?”

  Chief Parks had never met or heard of Julie. Nor knew that Julie more than once saved the detectives’ lives in the line of duty. “How about it, guys? Know anything about Julie Wong?”

  Mario and Howard didn’t flinch.

  “Asian lady? Jet-black shoulder-length hair?” Tom asked again. “Deadly as a rattlesnake. Comes in and out of the city in a fancy private jet. Have you run across her?”

  Mario looked at Howard. They paused, then both responded, “No, can’t say I have.”

  Chapter 14

  The meeting ended, and Howard held the door open for the Chief, Mario, and the agents to exit the restaurant. Curbside, the Chief agreed her detectives would share anything that popped up on the streets that might relate to the Auction House investigation.

  The Chief pointed to her detectives. “Agreed?” Howard gave a nod.

  “Absolutely,” Mario said.

  Ralph Barnes, the FBI agent, made it clear during the meeting that Julie Wong was off-limits, even though the detectives admitted not knowing her. Ralph added she was under investigation but stopped short of acknowledging if surveillance was involved. Mario was sure that the FBI could easily show cause and get approval from a judge for wiretaps and cameras.

  Howard sat in the passenger seat, the Chief in the back, and Mario drove. It was a mistake he and Howard made by agreeing to give her a ride to the restaurant. One easily avoided by saying they were involved in a case or due in court at that time. The drilling started as soon as the Chief sat down and her tone wasn’t pleasant.

  Mario quickly endorsed Tom’s decision, leaving Howard and him off the hook to lie further to the Chief. There was no way they could come clean regarding their involvement with Julie and expect to be on the police force the next day—it would have been early retirement for both.

  Mario broke the ice mostly to see where he stood. “What the hell was that all about?” he asked, giving the Chief a peek through the rearview mirror. Howard looked forward.

  There was no reply for the longest time, then she polity said, “I don’t know. But you’re going to tell me all about it when we get to my office.”

  There was nothing further said in the car, nor while walking through the garage, or on the elevator. Not until they hit the lobby of the Chief’s office.

  “I’ll be in a meeting,” she said, passing her secretary.

  The Chief walked in first and stood at the door, then Mario and Howard stepped inside. It was lockdown and serious when they heard the door close and the lock click.

  “Sit your asses down and tell me from the beginning,” the Chief said. “And no bullshit!”

  The detectives took a seat. They watched Chief Parks roam the room as she always did when under pressure or, in this case, about to blow her lid. She filled a watering can that had seen better days from her private bathroom, talking the whole time, asking question after question, not allowing an answer. It was best since a few of the questions were things Mario didn’t want to get into just yet. She walked to the windows and dipped the stem of the can into the soil of two plants—they were beyond saving.

  Mario had told her several times the plants were getting too much sun and not enough water—he passed on reminding her. Mario and Howard often joked that artificial flowers might be the only thing she couldn’t kill in the plant category.

  She tossed the can into the bathroom sink. “Speak up.”

  “Sorry, Chief,” Mario said with a slight smile. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  A text came from Avery to Mario’s phone. He peeked down while engaged with the Chief and quickly read it.

  “Well, that solves one piece of the puzzle,” Mario said. “The mystery hit and run is solved. A man stole the truck off a construction job and hit several vehicles on the street, before destroying my cruiser. The guy was arrested earlier this morning,” Mario continued, turning to Howard. “Doesn’t seem we were the target.”

  Mario decided to come clean and got to a point, saying Kate visited him and that was the first he learned of Roland Rockford’s arrest. He walked carefully around the truth and said he saw surveillance pictures of Kate and Roland going into the auction house.

  “I’ll save you the time of lying—no need to say how you gained possession of the pictures,” Parks said, taking a seat at her desk. “What about Julie Wong?” she asked. Her arms rested on the desk with her hands under her chin. She watched the detectives’ reaction to the question.

  Mario shifted to Howard. “I believe he can tell you best.”

  Howard shifted his head and gave the Chief a look. “It involves Ben Stein,” he said.

  Her complexion turned whiter than usual. Howard was sure she’d not want her involvement with Ben discussed in front of Mario.

  “Let’s say I first came across her on a Code Red pickup when I drove for Ben.” He gave the Chief one eyebrow up. “No need to go into detail or reveal to government agents how I know Julie.”

  The Chief unfolded her hands, then chewed on her lip. “You’re correct—no need to get involved. Let them find out who she is on their own.”

  Mario sat in disbelief. His expectations were the Chief would hit the ceiling hearing they knew Julie—she didn’t.

  The tension died down, and the Chief threw out more questions—this time, she got answers. Her main concern was Roland. What was he involved in to attract the ATF and FBI? Mario added he was primarily worried about Kate and how she got pulled into Roland’s mess.

  Chief Parks gave Mario and Howard her blessing to follow leads that might connect Roland and Kate in the FBI investigation. She warned them under no circumstance to interfere with the federal agent’s investigation. The detectives accepted her wishes with a hardy smile and a handshake and then discarded the request immediately. They had stepped on many federal agencies’ toes before—nothing stood in their way of bringing the guilty to justice.

  Chapter 15

  The first stop Mario and Howard made was to the Rockford Auction House. They arrived in time to hear the auctioneer drop the gavel and introduced himself as Simon Kade. Auctions of this caliber didn’t have walk-ins—they usually turned into nosey spectators and non-buyers. The space was large enough for about seventy-five people to sit and display the items for auction. The house wanted qualified people willing to pay thousands of dollars on bids for paintings, furniture, sculptures, and other family heirlooms. Long-time customers of the Rockford Estate Galleries received invitations for the event. New customers were brought into the high-society group carefully and it could take up to two weeks for approval from the auction committee. Members combed over personal and business references—mostly bank information proving the applicants had the means to bid and pay.

  Mario wasn’t a guest, but his NOPD badge got the detectives’ seats and the daily schedule of items auctioned. They observed the crowd from the rear and the first item was up on the stage, waiting for the first bidder.

  The auctioneer started with a small price item—a nineteenth-century porcel
ain vase. The opening bid was five thousand dollars. One person raised the offer, and wooden paddles stretched over head’s battling for the vase. Howard’s first reaction to the item was it belonged in a garage sale. The vase sold for twenty-two thousand dollars to bidder number 112.

  Mario quickly ran his finger down the numbers identifying the bidders. It identified her by her first name and the first letter of her last name. It was a common practice of auction houses not to reveal the names of their exclusive customers. A round of applause sounded for the winning bidder.

  “I don’t get it,” Howard said with a slight lean toward Mario. “Why so much?”

  “Because the auctioneer set the tone and price. You weren’t born with a silver spoon up your ass,” Mario replied. “These people never worked a day in their life. They got their wealth the old fashion way—born into money.

  The entrance door opened behind Mario. Three men came in, taking separate seats among the guest. Howard never forgot a face. The men had arrive on Julie’s jet the previous morning and must have had plans to bid in the afternoon auction. Mario agreed.

  The door opened again, and a quick strolling Never Wong and another man passed, taking reserved seats at the front of the podium.

  “Everyone but Julie is here,” Mario said. Howard gave a nod and scanned the area. “Did you see that?” Mario next whispered to Howard.

  “The acknowledgment between the auctioneer and Never Wong? I sure did.”

  The auction continued. The second item didn’t get many bids and sold not much more than the opening bid. A method used by auction houses was to keep people engaged. When bids fell flat, the auctioneer would sell the item quickly and move on to the next item because if the rich got bored, they would walk.

  The following few items took a while to get through. Bids by various people climbed until one person called an amount no one countered—Wong sat unconcerned.

  Soon Simon announced an item not listed on the program. He described the wood of a chair, then detailed the fabric, the artistry, and went on longer than most cared to hear. A single chair sat on a wagon, draped in velvet. A man dressed in a tuxedo with white gloves pulled the wagon to the front of the podium. Simon knew all the tricks of an auction house. Dress up the item with props, add a man in tuxedo and gloves to escort the article, and the prize appears to be worth a lot more than it is.

  Mario gave Howard a nudge. “Here we go.”

  “Opening bid is ten thousand dollars,” Simon announced with a nod to Wong as if there was no one else in the room.

  Wong was the first to raise his paddle and said, “Fifteen thousand.”

  Simon looked to the other side of the room. “Do I hear seventeen thousand?”

  A lady raised her paddle. “Twenty-five thousand.”

  The bid went back and forth between Wong and the woman on the other side of the room. Mario checked the program, and the paddle number belonging to a company called Masterpiece Antiques. No name was attached, not even a first name. It was not unusual for the well-known and established local antique shop owners or representatives to participate in the event.

  Mario sent a text to Avery at the Eighth Precinct and asked her to check into Masterpiece Antiques and described the woman. There wasn’t much he could tell. She appeared in her thirties and matched many of the same age. He called her a plain Jane.

  The woman’s last bid was seventy-five thousand. Wong ended the battle with seventy-six thousand.

  Simon’s eyes shifted from the woman to Wong a few times, then he shouted, “Seventy-six thousand. Gone once, twice ... ” He paused, his eyes locked on Wong with his paddle above his head. “Sold to number 114.”

  A round of applause broke, and all eyes were on Never Wong. The wagon carrying the chair was taken from the stage by the man wearing the tuxedo. The guy with Wong held the curtain separating the bidders from the processing area.

  “So, Never Wong has a bodyguard, too?” Mario observed.

  Howard was quick to respond. “Never is the bag, man.”

  Mario shot him a look. “You want to break that down in English?”

  “The woman was in on it,” Howard said. “She was to stop other people from bidding by getting the offer up high and quickly so it narrowed down to her and Never. If I’m wrong, then why did she bid seventy-five thousand but yet drop out without a counter when Wong bumped the bid by one thousand dollars?”

  “Good catch. It’s a setup to make sure the bid got to a certain amount, and then the woman bowed out, letting Wong win the chair,” Mario said. “Let’s go talk to the owner of a seventy-six thousand dollar chair.”

  Behind the curtain, people buzzed in every direction, keeping the auction moving, pushing items ready to go on stage, all while processing others out to their new owners.

  After the first hour, there was a break in the auction, which allowed people to get a complimentary glass of champagne, use the bathroom, or stand and mingle. This break came within the first twenty minutes.

  Backstage, Simon Kade huddled with Never Wong. The detectives allowed them to talk before approaching. More importantly, they got close enough to see Never hand an envelope to Simon. The exchange went smoothly.

  Wong headed out the back door, and Simon handed the envelope to a woman that bypassed the cashier and went to a private office.

  The detectives missed Wong by seconds when a black Mercedes SUV hurried from the auction house’s back alley. Wong was nowhere around, and the detectives were sure he was in the Mercedes. Howard read the numbers off the plate, and Mario texted it to Avery. The best they could tell, he was in the backseat alone.

  A few minutes later, Avery returned the text. Exotic Rentals near the airport owned the black Mercedes. A second text revealed Ruthie Golden was the owner of Masterpiece Antiques on Royal Street.

  A quick call to dispatch had a patrol car at Exotic Rentals in minutes. Mario and Howard handled the other issue. Who was the lady bidding on the chair? They headed to Royal Street.

  Mario parked at the Eighth Precinct and walked one block up Royal Street to the corner location of Masterpiece Antiques. They found Ruthie in her office without any issues, but to their surprise, no sign of the mystery lady who had bid on the chair.

  After a round of questions, which Ruthie answered truthfully, Mario ruled her out as being involved. She did have an employee at the auction house that day, and it wasn’t uncommon for her to bid on items for Ruthie. Under the Masterpiece name, Ruthie carried a line of credit with the auction house. Her employee was armed with the item number and the maximum to bid—a penny more, and she’d fire the person. That was Ruthie’s rules.

  When Howard asked if this woman could bid on a single chair for seventy-five thousand dollars, the expression on Ruthie’s face was sincere.

  “Oh, no, sir. My line of credit is only five thousand,” Ruthie said as her face turned reddish. “I sent her to look into a Tiffany Lamp. I would never bid that high on anything—much less have an employee do it for me.”

  “What’s the employee’s name?” Mario took out his notepad.

  “Jennifer Gray,” she said. “A pleasant young lady.”

  Mario wrote the name down and asked if she had a picture of Jennifer. Ruthie reached behind her desk and showed a Mardi Gras Ball picture of the two of them.

  “That’s Plain Jane,” Mario said, passing the picture to Howard.

  “Wow, she sure cleans up good.” Taking the framed picture, he eyeballed it closer.

  “I bought the dress and hired someone to do our makeup and hair,” Ruthie said. “It was a special night. Around here, Mardi Gras is a big deal.

  “She was the woman at the auction bidding on a chair—well over your budget.” Howard handed the picture back. “Does she work for anyone else?”

  “I like to think I pay well enough that my employees don’t need a second job,” she said.

  Ruthie’s help was appreciated and the detectives headed outside to stand post across the street and wait for Jen
nifer. It wasn’t long before a taxi pulled to the curb and Jennifer stepped out. Mario followed her into the building. Howard stayed at the door, making sure customers didn’t enter. Ruthie did her part by getting Jennifer into the office.

  After several questions and few honest answers, Jennifer’s probe would continue at the police station. There was nothing Mario could charge her with, but he’d make her life dreadful for the next six hours. If she was part of a scam with Never Wong, he would get to the bottom of it.

  Chapter 16

  Mario and Howard entered the Eighth District Police station through a door used by foot patrol. Bringing Jennifer through the front wasn’t an option. The desk sergeant’s job was to log civilians in and out of the precinct and record case numbers should they make inquiries. There was no case opened at this point, so everything was off the record.

  The makeshift conference room next to Mario’s office freed up when he gave a nod to cops that were using it for a breakroom. They exited quickly, and Howard asked Jennifer to take a seat. Pulling a desk chair on rollers over, Mario sat near her and Howard across the table.

  “Is someone going to explain why I’m here?” Jennifer asked. Jennifer appeared to be calm for being snatched from her workplace and hauled into a police station without an explanation.

  The detectives placed business cards on the table and passed them to Jennifer. “As I said back at the antique shop, my name is Detective DeLuca, and this is detective Blitz,” Mario said, pointing to Howard. He always started politely when he had no clue of the person's involvement. “I just want to ask a few more questions.”

  Jennifer shot a quick reply. “You mean the questions you could have asked in Ruthie’s office? Sure go ahead.”

  Howard stretched his arms across the table. “Why were you at the auction today?”