The Body in Bodega Bay Read Online Free PDF Page A

the lot?”
    â€œYeah. It didn’t bring much, as I recall.” His nose was running. He blew it and tossed the tissue into a wastebasket.
    â€œEight hundred dollars, according to the bill of sale.”
    He checked his records. “That’s right.”
    â€œI’m wondering if it could be worth a lot more.”
    â€œIf it is, nobody else thought so. There was only the one bid, and since it met the reserve, I had to sell it.”
    â€œSo the only bid came from Mr. Halloran?”
    â€œIf that’s his name. I opened asking for a thousand, couldn’t get a bid, so I went down to eight hundred, and he raised his paddle. It was a thin house that day, not too many bidders. I was glad to sell it.”
    â€œCan you tell me who set the estimate on that lot?”
    â€œI did. I do all the lots.”
    â€œAnd are you an expert on Russian icons?”
    He bristled. “Listen, lady. I know something about auction prices. I didn’t think it would bring more than a grand, and it didn’t.”
    I allowed a polite smile. “May I ask what you based your estimate on?”
    â€œI ran the database. Looked for comparables in our recent sales and didn’t find any. To tell you the truth, we don’t sell a lot of icons. There’s no market for them here. People go for landscapes, still lifes, marine paintings, pretty stuff. Give me a landscape with a sunny sky and a river in it, and I can run up the bidding. Religious paintings, forget it. Now, this icon looked old, which gave it a certain cachet, if you know what I mean, and the subject, being an angel, gave it a boost. But it wasn’t in top condition. If anything, the estimate was optimistic. Maybe at another auction house that specialized in icons or religious objects it could have brought more.”
    â€œI see. Would you mind telling me who the seller was? It might be useful if I could talk to him or her.”
    â€œThat’s private information. We don’t give it out.”
    I slid Dan’s card toward him across his desk. “You can call Deputy Ellis at that number if you don’t want to talk to me. I’m trying to save him from having to come down himself.”
    He hesitated.
    â€œThis is a murder investigation, Mr. Spears. Deputy Ellis has his hands full. He’s short staffed. He’s asked for my assistance. If he has to make a separate trip because an informant won’t cooperate, he’ll do it but he won’t be pleased.” I added, “So far you’ve been very helpful.”
    Spears shot me a glance that said, “Don’t take me for an idiot.” I sat straight-faced, hands folded in my lap. My glance said, “No? Then help me out.” We waited a few seconds, and then he snorted and reached for a record book. The consignor was a woman named Rose Cassini who lived in Cazadero, which isn’t far from Duncans Mills. I copied down the address and phone number.
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œYou’re welcome,” he said grudgingly. “Now I’ll tell you and the sheriff something else, so you won’t have any reason to complain. You aren’t the only ones who’ve been asking about this lot.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œThe bidder—Halloran, is that his name?—also wanted to know the name of the consignor. Called me up the day after the sale and wanted to get in touch with her to ask if she had any more items like it that she might want to sell.”
    â€œDid you give him the information?”
    â€œI told you, that’s against our policy. But I called her and gave her the buyer’s number and relayed the message. Said that if she wanted to contact him, that was up to her.”
    â€œAnd did she?”
    â€œYou’ll have to ask her. I don’t know. But that’s not all. The next day I get another call from a guy with a heavy accent who wants to know who the buyer was on the lot. Said he was a collector