the door, set down her groceries, and let him in. “Let me get the key to the window.” She disappeared into the rear of the shop, and Bob followed her for a few feet, taking in the place. It was crowded but orderly and seemed to be filled with the fruits of many auctions.
She reappeared from a little office at the rear, unlocked the access door to the shopwindow, fished out the Rolex, and handed it to him. “It’s a nice one, a Submariner.”
“Any idea how old?” he asked.
“Probably from the sixties,” she said.
He wound the watch, and it began to run, always a good sign. The steel case was scratched from wear, but that would polish out. “How much are you asking?”
“Three thousand,” she said.
“A new one is only five grand,” he said. He wasn’t sure that was still true.
“I might go twenty-five hundred.”
He handed back the watch. “Can I see the picture?”
She unlocked another door at the end of the window and removed the painting.
“Mind if I get some sunlight on it?” he asked, nodding toward the stoop.
She went first, as if to block him if he ran with it.
He stepped onto the stoop and looked the painting over, front and back. He saw the name “Stone” on the back of the canvas; he had seen the picture in Stone’s study. “Nice,” he said. “What are you asking?”
“Fifteen thousand,” she replied.
He affected shock. “Oh, that’s way beyond my budget.” He handed back the painting. “I’ll offer you fifteen hundred for the Rolex, though.”
“I might do seventeen-fifty.”
“I’ve got cash, no tax to pay.”
“Sixteen hundred, and it’s yours.”
“Done.” He followed her back into the shop. “Have you got the box?”
“You’re in luck,” she said, opening a cabinet and coming out with a Rolex box.
Bob took a wad of bills from his pocket and counted out sixteen hundred in hundreds. “You’re just about cleaning me out,” he said, handing her the money.
She got a pad and began writing out a receipt.
“Where do you get all this stuff?” he asked.
“Estate sales, auctions, places in the country. I’m not telling you where.”
He laughed. “I don’t have the energy to visit them. I’d rather let you do my shopping for me.” He pocketed the receipt. “Would you take seven thousand for the picture?”
She laughed. “Not a hope. It’s fifteen, firm.”
“Oh, well, maybe in some other lifetime.” He put the Rolex into its box and dropped it into the Barneys bag with his picture. “Thanks,” he said.
“Come back next week,” she said. “We’re getting new stuff all the time.”
“I’ll do that,” Bob said, and walked back up the block toward his bicycle. He strapped his purchases to the rear rack, unlocked it, and started back up the street. As he approached Anita’s Artfest, a battered gray van pulled up front, and a young man—six feet, 170, sandy hair and short beard—got out and began unloading items that Anita carried into the shop.
Bob smiled all the way home.
43
Stone was wrapping up his Friday when Bob Cantor called.
“What did you learn?” Stone asked.
“You’re right, Anita Mays likes to fly under the radar. She doesn’t advertise, doesn’t use eBay. One of the local shopkeepers implied that her boyfriend is a burglar, and I think she might very well be right.”
“Did you go into the shop?”
“Yep, bought myself a nice Rolex for sixteen hundred. She didn’t know that it was one of a limited edition, celebrating the watch’s fiftieth anniversary. It has a green bezel and larger numerals and is probably worth ten grand used, if you can find one. It was issued about ten years ago. And get this: one of your pictures was in the shopwindow.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I kid you not. The shop is full of very nice stuff, so the boyfriend has good taste in stolen goods. He arrived as I was leaving the block, and unloaded some stuff from an old van. The vehicle is registered to a William Murphy, of the Barrow Street address. I think the two of them live in the basement of the building.”
“That’s all very interesting, especially the part about my picture.”
“She was asking fifteen grand for it, and she wouldn’t budge on the price.”
“Well, I guess I’d better get down there before they get any smarter. Any other observations?”
“The girl is very wary. I think she suspects everybody of being a cop, and given the sort of stuff they’re dealing in, she should be wary. I didn’t talk to the guy, but he’s pretty well built, and I’d guess