CHAPTER 6: Tango Classico

 

Venice

 

The Italiano de Art auction, held annually at the Palace of the Doges, was the most prestigious event in Europe, though it was never advertised. It was the playground of the Jet Set Ultra Rich, admittance by invitation only, and the fact that the proceeds of each sale went directly to charity made it an event to see and be seen in. Now it was only an hour away.

Delta was thrilled, and having Kevin at her side was like a heady wine. It was an experience she wanted to remember for the rest of her life.

"Come zip me up, My Love," Delta called from the dressing room.

"On the way, Lass," Kevin said from the bedroom, putting the finishing touches to his attire. He'd decided to forgo the traditional dinner tux and opted for the Darth Vader look; pleated linen pants, collarless shirt, a lightweight linen dustercoat, and suede boots with silver tipped toes and strapped jack spurs. He put on a belt with a thin silver buckle, two silver hoops in his ear, then went to the dressing room.

Kevin's breath caught in his throat when he saw his wife.

Delta wore a strapless, black velvet sheath with a sweatheart neckline and a slit up to mid-thigh over her left leg. Some of her auburn hair spilled over the confines of a roseknot headwrap.

"Put this on," Delta said, low in her throat. She handed Kevin an ankle chain of black pearls and put a foot on the chair. Her black stockings were sheer, seamed in the back, and Kevin trailed his fingers from calf to ankle before putting on the ankle chain. He kissed Delta's knee softly.

"Now this," Delta said, handing Kevin the garter holster with the Seecamp .32. He strapped it on and kissed the inside of her thigh.

Delta shivered and covered Kevin's hand with her own. "Now, this." She handed him a thick choker of black pearls as he straightened up. He put it on and she kissed him hot and wicked, then looked into his slate gray eyes. "Yes..."

"Yes, what?" Kevin asked.

"When we're at the auction, and the function afterwards, I want you to get weak in the knees every time you look at me. I want you so hot, I can smell the smoke coming out of your pants."

"Och, Lass! Why must ye torture me so?"

"Because then you will have an inkling of how badly I want to jump your bones."

Kevin laughed, turning a revealing shade of red in the face. "OOh. You're evil."

"I know. Ready?"

"Aye, witch."

Delta put on lace gloves patterned with roses, black velvet pumps, and a red silk long coat. She put the 5904 in a small velvet clutch matching her shoes and gown.

When Kevin and Delta left the building, the morning air was balmy and clean, the sun shining bright in a cloudless sky. The air smelled of the Adriatic, with a not quite salty tang and Pigeons darted and glided on the gentle breezes.

"We ought to make quite an impression, showing up in a hydroplane," Delta said as Kevin started the engine. It rumbled to life and he slowly floated out of the docking quay, then picked up speed.

"Especially when all the high muckity mucks see that we're an interracial couple," Kevin remarked.

"Don't you love gatecrashing?" Delta asked with a laugh.

"With invitations? We're not gatecrashing."

"Look. Most of those people there are conservative old money rich with preconceived ideas about how the world is supposed to be run. You're Irish, I'm Spanish African. Trust me, we're gatecrashing."

Kevin laughed as he skipped the hydroplane past parked gondolas, over water that sparkled under the light of the sun. When he reached the Grand Canal, he opened up the hydroplane and the tiny craft fairly rocketed across the canal's surface.

The Grand Canal was packed with colorful boats and gondolas, and waterbuses ferrying people around Venice and across the lagoon. Music filled air; a band was playing in one of the plazas.

Kevin took the long way around the last split-S of the canal and soon the Palace of the Doges came into view. The canal fronting the Palace court was nearly covered with watercraft. Pleasure yachts, motorboats, and gondolas--all jockying for prime docking space.

"Will you look at this?" Delta exclaimed, standing up to lean on the windshield. "Parking's almost as bad as Southern California. You'd think there weren't that many rich folks in the entire world."

Kevin deftly danced the hydroplane around the slower moving craft, finding a prime spot directly at the pier fronting the Piazzeti courtyard. A red jacketed dock attendant lashed the hydrofoil to a pole, and helped Delta out as Kevin shut the engine off.

"That is a very beautiful boat," the attendant commented, eying the hydroplane. "Do you race her?"

"No," Kevin replied. "But that's a good idea."

The attendant smiled, and pointed Delta and Kevin towards the entrance.

The Palace of the Doges was a square four story structure of white and pink marble. The first two stories comprised a double row of widely spaced columns on the ground floor and closely spaced columns on top. The sun gave the palace a luminous glow, like it was constructed of delicate conch shells.

The glitterati flowed towards the arched intrance buzzing with conversation. Jewelry worth many of the working world's entire annual salary shone, and sequins caught the sunlight in shifting sparkles.

At the entrance, a concierge collected invitations and checked off names by rote with dronelike monotony. "Mr. and Mrs. Chelsea Hawke."

"Aye," Kevin said.

The concierge looked up, then did a double take.

"Thank you," Delta said, plucking the stubs from his hand. They continued on, Delta chuckling at the look of mild astonishment on the concierge's face.

The interior of the Palace of the Doges was even more impressive than the exterior, with wide staircases, filligreed barrel vaulted ceilings, carved statuettes, and painted walls.

The auction was being held on the second floor in the Sala del Maggior Consiglio, a vast chamber from which the rulers of ancient Venice once gathered to set policy. It was configured differently now, with rows of velvet padded chairs covering the main floor, private box seats along the walls, and a stage occupying the south end of the rectangular chamber. Attendants scurried about, making last minute preperations, and security moved, highly visible in their uniforms. A station against the east wall was set up to serve drinking water, and ushers guided patrons to their designated seats.

Everyone was handed brass placards with numbers printed on the front; these they would hold up to indicate bids. Delta received 88, and Kevin, 89. They were then ushered to one of the box seats near the front.

 

 

Karen Bechard, under the personna of Linda Holt, handed her invitation at the door and was admitted in. She moved through the crowd casually, noting faces, picking out security stations, and generally getting the lay of the land. She was attired simply in a gray dress with dropped yoke waist and gray suede flats. She wore no make-up or jewelry and carried a small gray clutch purse wherin resided her Glock-21. Her lack of adornment made her stand out and she ignored whispered comments about her mode of dress, thinking briefly of how Hitler used to wear uniforms devoid of rank at functions, surrounded by his generals who wore every decoration they'd achieved. Whatever else was said about the man, he knew how to make an impression. Karen found many of the attached men, young and old alike, stealing glances at her filled with desire.

When Karen reached the auction chamber, she received her placard with the number 56. She was seated and watched the flow of patrons taking their seats. For a brief moment, she thought she recognized one of the patrons, but the crowd instantly obscured her view.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone was seated and when Karen looked again, she did recognize who was sitting in a private box seat near the front. Delta Chancellor and her husband Kevin. She had never seen Delta dressed up and it suddenly struck her how truly beautiful the woman was. It was difficult to picture that elegant vision sitting in that box as the same woman who had been recently convicted of slaying a cop just over a year ago, or the same woman that had taken out a slaver camp a few years before that. Karen was always a little suspicious of the circumstances that Delta had been convicted under in that cop slaying incident.

A man stepped up to the lecturn and Karen instantly recognized him as Bishop Varian. She was immediately on guard.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, without further ado, I open the sixth annual Italiano de Art auction. I just want to add that the charities for which the proceeds of this event will benefit, thank you emmensely." Varian stepped aside and the auctioneer took his place. Two stage attendants wheeled out an easel and threw back the covering to reveal a painting.

"I have here, Haystack by Claude Monet..."

The auction picked up momentum as piece after piece was brought out; paintings and sculptures. The auctioneer's voice continued in staccato bursts of oration, coaxing bids of up to twelve million dollars out of the bidders. Delta watched the action, occasionally throwing in a bid, but mainly watching the process.

A painting was brought out and uncovered. It was The Birth of Venice.

"A Botticelli," Kevin remarked.

"Just for that, I'm going to buy it," Delta announced.

In the main body of the patrons, Karen sat up a little straighter. Here was the very painting that was suppose to be missing. She spotted Bishops Varian and Silvanus in the sponsors' box and saw that neither of them seemed overly concerned about the painting being auctioned. That could mean one of two things: the painting was never stolen in the first place, or this one being auctioned was a fake.

"Opening bid is 50 thousand dollars," the auctioneer called. Do I hear 55?"

Delta raised her placard.

"55 thousand. Do I see 60?"

A placard went up in a private box held by a group of Japanese businessmen.

"I have 60--"

A third placard went up, and Delta recognized who it was. Erin Lisa Van Der Berg, matriarch of the Van Der Berg Mafia family, rumored to be in the midst of moving into business legitimacy.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Delta asked Kevin.

"Buyin' art?"

"Watch this," Delta said.

A bidding war erupted between the Japanese and Erin Van Der Berg. Delta sat back and watched. The bids jumped up to 100 thousand by the Japanese.

"100 thousand going once. Twice--"

Delta held up her placard.

"105 thousand," the auctioneer called, astonishment creeping into his voice. "Do I hear 110?"

The Japanese raised their placard.

"110. Do I see 115?"

Erin Lisa stood, and said, "1 million."

The auctioneer blinked. He looked at Delta and Kevin.

"2 million," Kevin said.

"3 million," Erin Lisa said.

"10 million," the Japanese spokesman said.

The auctioneer looked like he was ready to faint.

"20," Delta said, standing. Erin Lisa glared at her from across the chamber, then sat down in a huff.

"20 million going once. Twice... Sold to the lovely young lady in black and red."

"20--?" Kevin mouthed.

The Japanese bowwed to Delta.

"Something's up," Delta explained. "And I think it's worth 20 million to find out just what."

The painting was taken away, to be claimed during the reception.

The rest of the auction was mild in comparison and at 2 pm it was over. Patrons moved towards the exit with a hundred separate conversations centered on the subject of Delta's purchase.

The reception was held on the third floor in a chamber called Sala del Senato and the satellite chambers around it. A steady flow of people proceeded up the wide staircase to the third floor. Delta and Kevin nodded to occasional compliments by passing people. When they reached the top of the stairs, Karen was leaning against the wall.

"Hello, Delta. Hi Kevin."

"Karen?" Delta said. "What a pleasant surprise!" She hugged Karen warmly. "You're looking very good," she said, stepping back.

Kevin kissed Karen on the cheek and people looked on curiously as they walked by.

"You both look great. I want you to know, I thought the circumstances surrounding your case a year ago stunk."

"Yeah, well. That's all water under the bridge now."

"Don't tell me you bought your way out," Karen said.

"Don't I wish," Delta replied. "No, the Justice Department owed me a big one, so I was aquitted, albeit very quietly, and not before I spent almost a year in prison."

"I'm sorry," Karen said.

"What the hell, it's over now. Plus we're freelancing for the World Court, so I'm authorized to carry a firearm anywhere in the world. I'm happy. But what brings you here? Working a case?"

"Funny you should ask that," Karen said with a smile. "We have to talk about that painting you just bought."

Delta looked at Kevin. "See? I told you something was up."

Karen looked puzzled.

"The woman that was part of my little bidding war is Erin Lisa Van Der Berg," Delta explained. "She's the matriarch of East Germany's largest crime family."

"Uh huh," Karen said.

"She may be trying to establish legitimacy, but do you really think someone that makes stupid bank illegally is going to throw it all at charity?"

"I see your point," Karen said.

"Then, shall we find a spot and compare notes?"

"By all means, let's do that."