The day was perfect in every way. After meeting Sven for dinner, he returned to his hotel room. He turned on the small electric fireplace and toasted the day with a brandy.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The next morning, Michael woke to the familiar ring of his phone.
“Michael, Sven here.”
Michael cleared his throat, attempting to sound alert. “Good morning, Sven. What’s up?”
“Sorry to wake you; my acquaintance from London is arriving in an hour or two.”
“Great, should I head over?”
“I will call you when we leave the airport. If you would meet us at the bank, we will be in Mr. Arnholdt’s office. In that you wish anonymity, I will introduce you as Alexei Kolenko. I will tell Alistair that I will give you a rundown later. He was told you do not speak English, so you should not let on that you understand the conversation. We will do the same with the American appraiser.”
“Sounds perfect,” Michael smiled. He had a little surprise for Sven.
*******
Michael entered the bank. He wore tinted glasses, which were dark enough to conceal the color and shape of his eyes. He also sported the beginning of a moustache and beard and wore a Russian-style cap.
“Surprise, Sven! Do I look the part?”
Sven cracked a smile. “I like it!”
He followed Sven into a private meeting room where the appraiser was waiting. “Alexei Kolenko, I would like you to meet Alistair Spreadborough.”
Alistair was graying at the temples; he wore vintage wire-rimmed glasses and sported a typical English tweed jacket, which was powerless in its effort to conceal his portly girth. His hands were exceptionally soft, and his handshake was weak. The man extended his hand, but allowed Michael to secure only his moist, chubby fingers. Michael found it distasteful and interpreted the greeting as a demonstration of arrogance; or perhaps the guy was a germaphobe.
“I will give Alexei a rundown of our conversation later. I have an employee who speaks Russian.”
The rotund little man produced a phony snort and said, “Very well then, as Russian is not my ‘cup of tea.’”
Michael proceeded to the vault and retrieved the metal box. He grinned when he thought of the nom de plume Sven had bestowed on him; it portrayed mystery. He joined Sven and Spreadborough in a windowless private room. He scanned the entire area; there was a Las Vegas-style security dome in the center of the ceiling. What did it matter? He was in the most secure, secretive place possible.
This would be the second time he would unveil the cover. Alistair dug into his weathered briefcase and gave Michael a pair of latex gloves. Michael unrolled the treasure; his chest was pounding. He slowed down the unfolding process in order to gain control of his emotions. At last, the cover was exposed. He sat back in a relaxed pose, hand on chin, and observed the two men. They both conveyed a sense of wonderment, neither trying to contain their curiosity. It gave Michael a sense of satisfaction to see their naked enthusiasm.
The cover was in serious need of cleaning; a metallic odor lingered in the air. Michael reconfirmed his interpretation of the cover. It was comprised of a very fine silver and gold chain maille. As he had recalled, there were gems at each circular end of the hammered golden cross. There would be a huge amount of cleaning to be done in the future. Alistair removed a small leather case from his vest pocket and pulled out a diminutive instrument resembling a dental pick. With great care, he poked around a few areas and devoted considerable attention to the cross. For some reason, Michael found the scene to be somewhat humorous. Alistair resembled a carnivorous bird with its spiny talons picking over the choice pieces of his fresh kill. He handled the cover as if it were made of eggshells, his eyes portraying a look of wonderment.
After a considerable time, he looked up and removed his jeweler’s eyeglass in slow motion. “By Jove, I think it is the real thing! Jolly good, eh?” He appeared elated to the point of having trouble containing his British snootiness. “It has the definite the mark of extreme age, and the calligraphy style of the inscription INRI has cinched my conclusion. The jewels are a much older style of cut that was used back in the Dark Ages. Cleaning the cover will be a challenge; perhaps the cleaning should be left to the new owner.” Alistair resembled a little child discovering a secret garden.
Sven, although intense with interest, was less emotional in his response.
“Where would you go from here, Alistair?”
“Carbon dating is possible as the gold would have been melted to a high enough degree, but it is too destructive. Again, I would not advise cleaning until it is permanently placed. You did say you had one other appraiser in mind. Is it the chap in Los Angeles? I would recommend him; he is the ‘oracle’ for this type of discovery.”
“As a matter of fact, Julian Borody is our next contact. We wanted your opinion prior to Borody’s arrival.”
“My assumption—you possess the real thing. There are other reasons I believe this cover is authentic, but let’s wait and see what Borody thinks; I don’t want to plant my conclusions in his head.”
Alistair continued to examine the article. It seemed to Michael an endless amount of time; he was anxious to call Sara.
“This appears to be gold intertwined with silver... the complexity is astounding. I cannot comprehend the length of time involved in creating the woven maille. It must have taken these monks years to create such an intricate weave. I would think they used a magnifying glass to execute this intricate work. As I said, the stones are cut in an old fashioned style, and, although it is pure conjecture, they appear to be rubies, sapphires, pearls, and maybe—maybe emeralds. Of course, after a thorough cleaning, an expert jeweler can determine the stones. They are almost flat black due to the soot-like deposit.” His voice was almost inaudible. “No doubt they would have used the finest gems available at that time.”
“Alexei and I will discuss your conclusion and wait for Borody,” Sven spoke in an authoritative manner. “I highly doubt we will attempt to clean it, unless it is necessary for the sale to be finalized. I suppose the new owners will take care of the cleaning.”
Michael was dying to ask questions; it was difficult to remain silent.
Sven directed his most intense stare towards Alistair, “We have your commitment to confidentiality, of course.”
“You have my word. My only request is to be listed as one of the appraisers. If you go ahead with the cleaning, I would appreciate the opportunity to view it again.”
“You have my word; are you leaving for London today?”
“Yes. If need be, I will return for further discussion with Julian.”
Sven spoke with a gracious tone. “Good bye then; I do thank you for your time.” In a discreet manner, Sven handed Alistair an envelope containing payment for his services. “Please sign the confidentiality paper; I have it here. Our driver will take you to the airport.”
*******
Michael returned the cover to the vault. Each man headed in a different direction as they exited the building. He was still somewhat uneasy. In actuality, Michael did remain at some risk; he had the only keys to the safety deposit box. He didn’t want to store them in Sven’s office, and Sven had not offered. It was comforting to know Yossi was lurking close by.
Later, Sven and Michael met at Sven’s office and shared a martini. Sven was in a hurry to contact Borody. He placed a conference call. Michael was pleased to hear that the appraiser would leave for Zurich the following afternoon. It was already midnight in L.A.
He walked over to a FedEx facility and emailed Sara from an Internet café:
Hi Sara,
Had a great day sightseeing. Met with Sven’s pal from London this morning. He is a nice guy, and I came away with a positive feeling. He is knowledgeable, and we had a great conversation. Things are moving along in great fashion. M.
He wandered around the neighborhood, drawing in the flavor of the city. His cell rang. It was Sven. “Borody will
arrive tomorrow evening. I will be in touch with more details after his arrival.”
“Great, Sven, we’ll talk soon.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Michael spoke with the Swiss Tourism Bureau, arranging an all-day tour to Engleburg. He relaxed and cleared his mind of the many decisions that lay ahead. He ended the day with dinner at a little bistro and a stroll. He solidified the events of the past few days. The cover was authentic, he had no doubt, although, it was reassuring to hear Alistair’s comments.
Michael sank into his leather chair and indulged in a sherry. Sven had notified him of Julian’s arrival. He would wait for a call to let him know their meeting time at the bank. Sleep was filled with odd dreams. There were sheep being herded down the street where Mrs. De’s market was! He didn’t remember much other than it was he who rounded them up and somehow returned them to Switzerland. Dreams were so odd.
Michael awoke to Sven’s call. “Good morning!”
“Michael, I just wanted to let you know that we will meet at the bank at one p.m. today.”
*******
Michael ate breakfast outside the hotel. He was anxious; Julian Borody could make or break this streak of good fortune. Having physically unearthed the cover, it was difficult to think there could be any question at this juncture. Reality knocked on his door; folks can disagree on almost any subject.
He spent the morning walking around and contemplating the different scenarios lying ahead of him. Sven called to confirm their appointment and described his lunch with Borody.
“Julian questioned who had knowledge of the cover’s existence. He knew of Alistair’s reputation and wanted to know if Alistair would join us today. I informed him that Spreadborough wanted Julian’s conclusion before giving any feedback. I want each appraiser to include an approximate value with no collaboration. Then, we will state the final asking price. I requested Borody not carry copies of his assessment on his person and told him no photographs will be taken.”
“Sounds like you covered the ground rules.”
“I informed him that he and Alistair will have separate safety deposit boxes for all documents they sign in Zurich. They can pick them up later. I reassured him that he and Spreadborough would be listed as the official appraisers.” Sven stopped abruptly. “I have a call coming in from Borody; I will call you back if our discussion is of interest.”
“See you at one o’clock, Sven.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
At precisely one o’clock the next afternoon, Sven and Borody joined Michael, who was already waiting at the bank. Michael was again introduced as Alexei. He was escorted to the vault and returned with the cover.
The cover was unwrapped and Borody took over. He brought out a small, well-worn satchel of tools. He was silent as he poked and prodded. He took ample time examining the waxen overwrap. He wore special glasses and also had an unusual type of penlight that emitted a bluish light. The examination took well over an hour.
“It’s an authentic seventh century cover, I’m sure. It’s not possible to identify the particular jewels; they need to be cleaned. The engraving style is definitely from the seventh century. Do you also have the book?”
“I was reluctant to give out accurate information over the phone. We are aware of the cover’s approximate age. This is the missing cover to the Book of Kells.”
“You are kidding! That thing has been missing forever!”
Time dragged on. At last, Michael heard the words he had been hoping for: “Sven, this is the real thing!”
Although Michael was ecstatic, he reminded himself he was a Russian who didn’t understand English. He just sat there watching the other two men; his chest was about to burst with jubilation. No one spoke for what seemed like an eternity. Sven broke the silence.
“Although expected, this is very good news!” Sven turned to Michael and gave him a thumb up gesture. Michael contained himself and gave a knowing smile, bowing his head toward Borody.
“My God, I would say so!” boomed Borody.
Michael was glad he had sat there with his hand on his chin. It helped him harness his euphoria. Remaining composed, he shook hands with the men.
Sven continued, “Borody, if you would, please give us a written confirmation to that effect. As I mentioned, there are separate papers regarding your commitment to secrecy until this article is permanently placed. The details of where, when, and who found this item will never be released.”
“Understood and agreed.”
Borody collected his assortment of detective items and signed the appropriate papers. The meeting culminated in a hearty handshake. He also suggested that the stones were most likely emeralds, rubies, pearls, and perhaps some sapphires. The American was obviously thrilled to be part of this discovery.
*******
Michael almost ran to the Internet café to inform Sara; he was ecstatic. No—he would call. He filled her in with the details, and they shared their delight. Their conversation was not lengthy; they were both lost in their own thoughts. They would talk about future plans tomorrow.
The following morning found Michael energetic to the point of restlessness. He went for a walk in the high-end section of town. He noticed a ladies Movado watch in a fancy jewelry store; it had a pink face and small diamonds embedded in the clasp. Somehow Movado had managed to keep the museum-style watch up-to-the-minute in fashion. He had seen similar watches; however, they did not capture the quality of the Movado. Sara loved pink; it was a perfect celebratory gift. He missed her and reveled in the pleasure of bringing her a beautiful gift.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Michael and Sven met for dinner.
“Well, Michael, we are on our way. It’s fabulous news. Cleaning the stones is no longer an option. Who knows, perhaps the soot could be used for carbon dating.” Sven spoke with enthusiasm. “I am not sure why we would fiddle with the stones in any way.” His steel blue eyes looked up at Michael. “The cover is genuine; that is all that matters. Let the new owner decide how to handle the gems.” Sven remained silent; he buttered his bread with a particular determination and took a sip of wine. Somehow his pause punctuated his statement.
“You’re right, Sven. I got caught up in the value of the stones.”
“There is not much doubt they are real jewels, in light of the era in which the cover was created. I would like to take it to the buyers as is.”
There was another lengthy silence.
“Why not, Sven—let’s wait it out. The next step is how we wish to conduct the sale?”
“It is up to you and your partner in New York.”
“Although the decision is mine, I will run it past Sara; I respect her judgment. Who would you think would be best to represent the cover?”
“There are two auction houses in the running: Christie’s and Sotheby’s. Both will do a fine job. Christie’s will put a reserve price if you choose a private treaty sale. With this approach, a certain price will be set on the cover; it is offered with that price being the floor. There is possibly another benefit.” Sven appeared cautious. “I am not sure; however, I think if you sell an outstanding work of art by private treaty to a national heritage group—you may be able to avoid a capital gains tax. This would be a coup; it would save you a large sum of money. I will do more research regarding that option. Taxes may be an issue for you, but not for Trinity College; they will be exempt. On your side of the deal, we need flawless wording in all documents regarding the purchase of the cover. I am thinking about a finder’s fee, or perhaps you could be considered the person who inherited the cover. If we find taxes to be unavoidable, we will be sure to create the trust in the most desirable country. We need to decide on a price that is fair.”
“What is your best estimate?”
“Millions.”
Michael was surprised. “Millions? How many millions?”
“As I said, sixty to one hundred—maybe more.”
Michael was stunned. “Are you sure?”<
br />
“This is one of art history’s greatest finds. Both Alistair and Julian feel it is in the seventy million range, possibly higher.”
Michael sat frozen in silence. He could not think fast enough to converse in a seamless fashion. “Regarding the private treaty—do I understand that we put a price on the cover and then offer it to a prospective buyer?”
“Correct; if they decline, they will assume it will go to auction with a reserve price. In that case, they will assume the cover will be available to the highest bidder.”
“Although, I doubt Ireland would allow the cover to reside elsewhere.”
“I do admire your determination to do the right thing, Michael. Your allegiance to the sister, in spite of—perhaps a loss of millions—is remarkable.”
“Most of this money will go to charities. Although, the more money the better. I don’t think she would want Ireland to be forced to pay an unrealistic amount. After all, the Iona monks chose to move it to Ireland. It was completed and stored in Ireland in the Abbey at Kells. I digress; back to the sister’s request, it will be Ireland, with any luck—Trinity College.
“There is one other avenue, Michael; my idea would save you a significant amount of money. We could avoid the auction houses and contact Ireland directly. This would avoid a premature leak of information. We would appoint an intermediary, offer the cover for seventy million, and see what happens.”
Michael responded, “If they decline the offer, do we inform Ireland the cover will go to auction?”
“Yes, if they ask, and they most likely will.”
Michael was pensive. “I do have some time to think about this. Let’s revisit the idea tomorrow. Your idea sounds tempting.”
Sven replied, “This type of approach requires some thought. You would need to seek out the right representative to approach Ireland. He will be your middleman.”
“Let’s arrange to meet for dinner tomorrow. I will make my decision by then.”
“Fine, it is a big decision. Have a pleasant evening, Michael.”