Anything Goes

brings you here? I heard you and Robert moved to the wilderness somewhere upstate. Oh, do come back to my office and we’ll gossip ourselves to death.“
    “Is that a real Picasso?“ Lily said, following along. “As real as they come. Hate it myself. But I’ll make a king’s ransom on it.”
    Jimmy’s private office at the back of the gallery was done up like a seraglio. Gauzy fabric swagged up on the walls, overlapping Oriental rugs, outrageous pictures of half-naked (and in several cases entirely naked) men on the walls. A harpsichord sat in the corner and a dim light came in the back window, illuminating the room pinkly through the swathes of filmy maroon curtains covering it.
    “You’re doing rather well, Jimmy,“ Lily said, sitting down on a very low silk-covered divan that nearly swallowed her up.
    Jimmy nodded. “It’s surprising how many people still have money and are just dying to spend it to prove they have good taste in art. They don’t, of course, but I tell them what’s good and what’s not and they shell out lovely amounts of hard cash. It’s the title, you know. Best trick in the book. Are you here for a touch? I could spare you a bit.“
    “No, no. Not at all. But I wouldn’t mind if you gave me a very good lunch. I’ve come to show you something.“ She fished in her large purse and pulled out Mrs. Prinney’s four wooden figures.
    “Lumps of wood? How very quaint,“ Jimmy said with his best fake Albanian accent.
    “Look again.”
    Jimmy took one of the figures and his eyes widened. “Why, it’s not a lump, it’s a what-do-you-call- it.“
    “A raccoon.“
    “Give me the others. Oh, oh! These are delightful. Such a clever trick and so exquisitely deceptive. Primitive, yet sophisticated.“ He’d dropped the accent. “Where the hell did you get these, Lily?“
    “They’re made by a man in Voorburg-on-Hudson.“
    “Voorburg-on-Hudson,“ Jimmy groaned. “How utterly rural. Has he an exclusive contract on them?“
    “I don’t think he has any contract. He gives them away to friends.“
    “Holy God in heaven! Say it isn’t true, darling! Too, too good for words! Tell me his name. I’ll rush to see him.“
    “I think not. I’m acting as his agent. He’ll get seventy-five percent of the sale price.“
    “Lily, you’ve turned into a greedy bitch,“ Jimmy said with a giggle. “I never pay that. No more than twenty-five percent.“
    “Fifty-five percent. Not a cent less. And I’ll come to town at intervals to check your prices.”
    Jimmy clasped his long-fingered hands under his chin. “I do love powerful women. Fifty-five percent.“
    “Done,“ Lily said.
    “When can you have a dozen of them? I’ll come fetch them.“
    “No, you won’t. I don’t want you talking to the artist.“
    “A man of mystery?“
    “More than you’ll ever guess.“ She was tempted to tell him that the artist might well turn out to be a murderer and have plenty of time in Sing Sing to produce his work, but resisted the impulse. “Now, Jimmy, where are you taking me to lunch? I’m starving.
    Robert shrieked with laughter when they met at the train station and she told him what she’d done. “Good old Jimmy. I didn’t think anyone could beat him at his own game. But will Kessler go along with it?“
    “He’s going to have to. He obviously likes making the figures more than he likes being a newspaper editor. And he’s much better with wood than words. He can just whittle his heart out. Wherever he might end up.“
    “So we have Mr. Prinney close down the paper and quit losing money on it?“
    “That’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Mr. Prinney wants to keep the paper. And I think it’s good for the town to have one. These are hard times for everyone and a really entertaining, informative paper is a good thing.“
    “How do you get an editor then? Neither we nor Mr. Prinney knows anything about finding one.”
    “I thought we could give Jack Summer a chance at it first. If he’s no good, we’ll have to figure out something else.“
    “Dear God, Lily. You’re turning into Lady Bountiful.“
    “I am, aren’t I?“ she said smugly. “But I wish I could turn into Agatha Christie instead and get the murders solved. Oh, and I’ve named the dog Agatha.“
    “Agatha! Are you mad? That’s a terrible name.”
    “Don’t say so at Grace and Favor. I think one of the Prinneys’ daughters is named Agatha.”
    “Oh! Well, a good enough name for a girl, but a