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‘I gotta go,’ she muttered, shrugging off Patty’s arm and leaving the cabin.
‘But the auction?’ Patty moved to go after her.
‘I’d give her some space,’ said Olivia. She also felt thrown by Annalise’s words – and the fact that her eyes had flicked to Olivia’s when she talked about bigger forces.
There was real anger in that look.
Patty, Janine and Olivia walked up to the gallery together, and when they arrived there was already a healthy buzz of excitement. There were chairs set up facing asmall stage at the front of the room, a traditional gavel and plinth for Stefan as auctioneer set off to one side. It didn’t feel like the modern, sophisticated auction she’d attended in London, but, once again, she had to trust Stefan to know his audience.
As the guests began to arrive, Olivia felt – once again – underdressed. Delilah wore a full-length glittering ball gown, Aida and Lucinda were in designer cocktail dresses, and both Robert and Maxwell were wearing tuxedos, incongruous with the bright sunlight pouring through the windows. Even the crew had made an effort. Elisabet had styled her hair in an elaborate updo, the captain was resplendent in his full uniform and even Liam seemed to have dug out a blazer from somewhere.
As the guests entered, they were offered a small white paddle with their cabin number on it.
‘So who are these people?’ Janine leaned in to ask.
‘The big clients are the ones over there, standing with Cutler and Ingrid,’ said Olivia. ‘We’re expecting purchases from Robert and Aida Freedman – they’re a business power couple from the US. Then Delilah Constance, the one with the bottle-blond wig, is an Australian fashion designer, she’s a known collector and was the underbidder at the London auction. Greg Akbas is an art critic – he writes exhibition reviews forThe Times,Vogueand the BBC, and has a popular podcast. His husband Tariq is a curator and tastemaker. There was a rumour that when he bought a sculpture from this unknown artist in Seattle, the artist’s next piece was commissioned by MOMA. Then there’s Maxwell Sadler and his girlfriend Lucinda. He’s an investment banker – one of Aaron’s backers. And Lucinda is a big fan ofYennin’s artwork – she’s also from Lithuania, like the artist.’
Janine’s eyes widened. ‘Maxwell Sadler?’
‘You know him?’ Olivia asked, surprised.
‘Not really. I read an article about him once. He’s the one who intimidated you down in the mudroom, right? Scary guy.’
‘Tell me about it,’ said Olivia. She dreaded to think what kind of trouble Aaron had been in.Might still be in, she reminded herself. Maxwell obviously felt Aaron still owed him something. But she couldn’t think of that now. This evening had to go well. Everything else could wait.
Cutler waved her over. ‘Olivia! Nice to see you. Looking lovely as ever.’ Olivia turned to introduce Janine, but she had escaped into the crowd to find Patty and Annalise.
A gong sounded at the front of the room. The auction was beginning. Stefan clapped his hands and stepped on to the stage.
She took a spot towards the back, not wanting to take a seat from someone who might be purchasing. She could see a glow from several phones, their cameras trained on Stefan.
‘Welcome, one and all, to this very special early-evening event. Yes, later on we will have the Antarctic crossing and witness a midnight sun. But, right now, you have the chance to experience something almost equally as rare. The chance to claim a piece of history – an artist, cut down in his prime, whose value is only going to soar as his legend grows around the world.
‘Take his social media presence. Maybe this is ironic, seeing as the man himself rarely posted, but his Instagram grew to over a million followers in the wake of hisdeath, before it dramatically went dark a few days later. Collectors, curators and art lovers alike have been clamouring to get the chance to own a piece of Yennin ever since. But the only way to do it – except by being a billionaire, of course,’ he added with a wink, ‘is to buy one right here in this very room. Before he died, he authorized a very limited run of prints, which he personally signed, and which only we have access to. There will never be an opportunity to buy one of these again. This is Banksy at the ground floor. And with the restricted audience here, you’re sure to land a bargain.
‘But enough from me. I know you’ve all been dying to see the main event.’
He stepped back, and with a flourish opened the white curtain to reveal the first exclusive, limited-edition signed print that would be on sale –šviesa.
The audience made appreciative oohs and aahs. It wasn’t the original, but in that moment no one seemed to mind.
‘Let’s open the bidding, shall we?’
Olivia felt like she was holding her breath throughout the bidding. But maybe Stefan was on to something. There was a lot of interest – the bids flooded in from all corners of the room. Delilah was keenest – and the price rose to over $100,000.
Stefan’s hammer finally fell at a cool quarter million to Delilah. There was a loud round of applause and she flushed with happiness, and Cutler sent over more champagne in her honour.
The success of the first sale had warmed the crowd, and as Stefan ran through the rest of the items the bidding racked up for every lot. Sure, it wasn’t the sameheart-pounding tension as during the auction that had seennemigasell for over three million. But if this was something that could happen regularly, on multiple ships, several times a year …
Maybe Stefan did know what he was on about. And could it be such a bad thing to get Yennin’s name out there, to get more people to see his masterpieces? They had lost something in ditching the multimedia component, the experience of viewing his art was less immersive, but it was still stunning. Especially with the Antarctic landscape floating past the window – the place that had so inspired him during his travels – bringing a special magic to the auction.
Her head was swimming. She needed to tell Aaron. Let him know what a success it was. She checked her bag for her phone so she could take a photo of the showcase in action, but realized she’d left it charging in the cabin.
She snuck out of the back as the auction wound down and nipped back to their room, amazed how the layout of the ship had become second nature, the hallways much more familiar. But as she approached the cabin, she frowned. Something wasn’t right. Their door was ajar, light from their porthole spilling into the hallway. She thought the others were still in the gallery.
Her heart hammered as she spotted the hem of one of her shirts poking out from beneath the door. A shirt that had been folded neatly in a drawer when she’d left the room.
She placed her palm on the door and pushed.