The Perfect Human: An Abelard Chronicles Book
Page 11
Unknown to Oliver and Felicity, Aubrey and his hapless sibling had left the cave with one other item beyond the perfectly preserved armour and weapons. They had torn a small jeweled cross from Abelard’s neck. Benoit had engineered this complex maneuver as Aubrey was making threatening gestures with his pistol. It had been partly obscured by the thickly layered muck, enough of which had dribbled away to make it visible while crawling about near Abelard’s head, searching for the sword.
Benoit had been immensely proud of himself and positively imbibed the affectionate pat on the head he had received from Aubrey for his clever ploy. Benoit knew in his heart that Aubrey loved him and would always be his protector, but like a small puppy he did greatly appreciate a little extra warmth, particularly as it was ever so rare.
As occasional traffickers in stolen goods they had some connections to experts who could discreetly assess the value of antiques, electronics, large vehicles and, yes, even small jeweled crosses. One such was a dealer in Sarlat, a well preserved medieval town, not far from their miserable shanty. They would go there.
The dealer, a huge man, appearing absolutely gigantic compared to the tiny magnifying glass he seemed to have permanently attached to his right eye, did a brisk business in disguised glass which he sold to well uninformed foreigners during the summer tourist crush when the stolen goods trade had a seasonal slowdown. Responding to a meaningful nod from Aubrey, with whom he had already done business, when the twins walked in he immediately locked the front door with the obligatory ’back in five’ sign.
The dealer shuffled his considerable bulk behind an old style wood and glass counter, which displayed an array of trinkets, each with a small tag, describing the bauble, the artist and its requisite historical connection. He had personally written each and every small story, making up the content as he went along. There he waited impatiently, vigorously rubbing his thumb and fingers together, for Aubrey to tell him the purpose of his visit.
Aubrey had not let his guard down for an instant since pocketing the jeweled cross in the cave, two days earlier. He had hardly slept, keeping a close watch on the small strongbox into which he had placed it for safekeeping. That strongbox, weighing a good 20 kilograms, he now placed into the hands of Benoit, since the dealer had meaningfully shoved him back when he had tried to put it on the glass counter. He pulled from his pocket a small key attached to a large label and proceeded to unlock the strongbox. The dealer was by now overcome with curiosity and had draped his vastness over the counter, positioned for the best view.
Aubrey had been extra cautious to snugly package his precious artifact in what even he recognized was an overly large container. He had obviously taken the time needed to develop a comprehensive transportation strategy. The same crumpled newspapers that kept the cross snugly in place would be used for the return trip. With that in mind, and not wishing to litter the dealer’s shop, Aubrey carefully straightened each of the tabloid sized sheets and placed them in a neat pile at the side for later reuse. The dealer, a fully numerate human, quickly calculated that the box must contain at least 200 such sheets and that Aubrey’s fastidious process would require more than two hours. Determined to expedite the enterprise he gave Aubrey a helpful shove, more energetic than intended, sending him to the floor, and began to scoop out the packing material at speeds that belied his sluggish frame.
Aubrey, mistaking the dealer’s benevolent gesture for a hostile act, pulled his pistol and gestured for him to withdraw. It took several tense moments for the dealer to reassure Aubrey and for Aubrey to resume emptying the strongbox, but with less attention to neatness. At last, he withdrew a small grey cloth, neatly folded in four. This he placed on the counter and for the first time noticing the painful grimace clouding his brother’s features, ordered him to put down the heavy strongbox.
Until he set eyes on the cross the dealer had begun to weary of the two halfwits and their ridiculous strongbox. He expected little and was preparing to show them the door. There was, after all, a business to run and he could not give these village idiots any more of his precious time. He was not prepared for the jeweled cross. He knew immediately that this had been worth waiting for. As hard as he tried to control his face, not to give away his bargaining advantage, he began to lick his chops. To him everything looked like food and here he saw victuals extending to the horizon. He wanted to reach for the mouthwatering object, but remembered how touchy Aubrey had been when it was only a question of crumpled newsprint. He looked from the cross to Aubrey and back, his watery eyes begging to let him at least touch it.
Aubrey, always engrossed in meticulous planning and scheming, often missed such small signs of clear advantage, and this time was no exception. He intended to ask for a particular sum, very large in his mind, and then to let himself be bargained down by ten percent. Having fully failed to notice the dealer’s great interest he handed him the cross and named his price, take it or leave it. At that moment the dealer understood he was dealing with the stupidest person in all of France. He took the cross, carefully examined it under his eyepiece and using his deep experience with complete idiots, offered him ten percent less. And the deal was struck.
Aubrey left the shop utterly overwhelmed with his commercial skills. Not only had he gotten the price he had planned on but managed to recoup the ten percent he had given up simply by revealing the origins of his find.
The merchant of baubles and beads did not immediately reopen his shop. Instead, he went to the back, pulled an oversized tome from a small cluttered bookshelf and leafed through it until he came to the image for which he had been searching. He compared the cross to the likeness and when he was satisfied he made two calls. One to a number in Florence and a second to reserve an airline ticket.
Chapter VII
The food chain