The Black Madonna Read Online Free PDF Page B

the New York branch of Credit Suisse.”
    â€œIs there any reason I should be worried about that?”
    â€œNot from our end. I have spoken with our legal team. Everything is aboveboard. The proper notification has already been sent to Treasury. Are you intending to export the painting?”
    â€œI have no idea.”
    â€œSo long as we leave a clear paper trail and your taxes are paid on time, there should be no problem.” Gerald Geldorf’s attitude had undergone a drastic transformation. Gone was the pressure, the condemnation, the anxiety. In its place was a man intent on making things happen. “Money is money.”
    â€œTell me again how much he transferred.”
    â€œOne million, two hundred thousand dollars.” If Gerald Geldorf found anything odd about a client who could not believe her own good fortune, he did not show it.
    Storm did a quick calculation. The auction house’s 8 percent commission was added on top of the item’s price. That and her own commission brought the total to one mil one forty. “Theclient overpaid,” she said. “I need you to set up an escrow account for the extra sixty.”
    â€œCertainly, Ms. Syrrell.”
    The prospect of a mystery client who did not bother with such details as sixty thousand dollars left Storm weak at the knees. “I may be drawing out expenses.”
    â€œAs far as my bank is concerned, the escrow is there for you to use at your discretion.”
    â€œI’ll be taking the painting with me as I leave the estate this evening. I need to deposit it in our safety-deposit vault.”
    â€œA bank official will be here to assist you whenever you complete your acquisition, Ms. Syrrell. Day or night.”
    â€œAnd the funds are ready to be transferred to the auctioneer’s account?”
    â€œAs soon as I receive your confirmation, Ms. Syrrell. We are standing by.”
    â€œMy very own yes-man.”
    â€œIs there anything else, Ms. Syrrell?”
    â€œTry to find out whose account made that funds transfer. If you learn anything, call me on this number.”
    Storm shut her phone and remained standing outside the estate’s main gates. She would have liked a moment to bask in the unaccustomed light of having the banker off her case and on her side. But a cloud by the name of Jacob Rausch chose that moment to insert itself between Storm and the sun.
    Rausch demanded, “Who is your client?”
    â€œYou know I can’t tell you that.”
    â€œYou don’t have one. You knew I was intent upon purchasing the item.” Even Rausch’s fury held an elegant sheen. “You used this for revenge.”
    â€œSorry, Jacob. Those are Manhattan tactics. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re standing in Manalapan.”
    â€œI’ll do you a favor. Give me the painting and I’ll offer half a percent commission and not a penny more.”
    â€œAnd I’m telling you, I have a client.”
    â€œYou’re lying. You just spent your little business into bankruptcy for sheer vengeance against me. I will take pleasure in grinding you and your paltry firm into the dust where it belongs. My offer for Syrrell’s is hereby revoked.”
    Storm responded with her sweetest smile. “What offer would that be?”
    Rausch wheeled about and almost collided with Claudia. “Kindly move out of my way.”
    Claudia watched him stride away, then asked, “Who put a roach in his sandwich?”
    Suddenly even the clammy April afternoon tasted sweet. “That would be me.”
    IT BECAME AN AFTERNOON FOR weaving dreams. Claudia arranged the details regarding the purchase while Storm returned to the auction and assumed the role her grandfather had once dominated. She worked the room, giving out every card she had, smiling at little jokes she did not even bother to hear. Eyes followed her everywhere. A visit to the coffee table meant fielding a series of quick