Rarities Unlimited 02 - Running Scared

Having her swipe his best Celtic buyer was just the latest in a long string of annoying little tricks. Knowing that she was doing it solely to irritate him didn’t make living with the results any easier.
    At least Rarities had turned Gail down, citing a conflict of interest with one of their “core” clients. Having an organization like Rarities working against him would have made acquiring good artifacts almost impossible. That was why he paid them a yearly retainer. If they heard of something good and golden, they let him know. As they had connections around the world, he often had first look at artifacts newly come on the market.
    Often, but not always. If the source was the kind that wanted to hide from Rarities, Shane had a standing no-questions-asked reward of ten thousand dollars for information leading to the acquisition of museum-quality gold artifacts.
    “Nothing new from any of the auction houses?” Shane asked.
    “No.”
    Silence grew as he took a solid gold pen from his pocket and began “walking” it across the back of his right hand, weaving it between and around his fingers, turning it end over end with a motion that looked easy. It wasn’t. It was a card mechanic’s trick for limbering up fingers before dealing from whichever part of the deck would do the most good. When the pen reached Shane’s middle finger, the metal made a distinctive clicking sound as it met his gold Celtic ring, which had belonged to one of his great-great-greats on his mother’s side. From the crispness of the incised symbols, he was the first one to truly wear the ring in many, many centuries.
    “Mr. Tarlov is still interested in working out a loan for his collection of Romano-Celtic fibulae,” Risa said.
    The only answer was a click when gold met gold on Shane’s quick, elegant hand.
    “Erik and Serena North agreed to let you display their magnificent gold carpet page from the Book of the Learned,” Risa pointed out. “It will be the page’s first public display. With all the death and mystery that surrounded its discovery, the page is sure to be a crowd magnet.”
    Click.
    She hadn’t really expected an answer from Shane. He wanted the Druid Gold exhibit to be owned entirely by Tannahill Inc. Insisted on it actually, except for that sole illuminated page. He had agreed to display the heavily foiled, intricately decorated manuscript page because it represented the final flowering of Celtic art. The fact that nothing else like that page had ever been found was the decisive factor for Shane. Nothing better of its type existed anywhere, at any price, and the Norths wouldn’t sell; that left borrowing it for the show. Unsatisfactory, but better than nothing.
    “Look,” Risa said, rubbing at the headache that was gathering between her eyes, “what you already have in this room is a collection that a lot of museums would be delighted to find in their display cases.”
    He kept walking the pen. His eyes were focused on a horizon only he could see. She knew from experience that he wasn’t ignoring her. Not really. He was simply sorting through available options with a speed, intelligence, and pragmatism that she admired even more than she did his long, athletic body.
    Ring and pen clicked against each other once more. Then the pen vanished as swiftly as it had appeared.
    She braced herself for whatever Shane had decided.
    “If we have to,” he said, “we’ll go with Sotheby’s gilded Late Iron Age helmet. Personally, I don’t think it has enough ‘presence,’ as you put it, to carry a show, but coupled with the gold-inlaid iron sword hilt I bought last year, the two should hold everyone’s interest for a few moments. Pity that the blade is rusted through in so many places. If the placard didn’t say ‘sword,’ no one would know what it was.”
    “It’s not that bad.”
    “Which? The helmet or the sword?”
    “The sword.”
    “It’s a delight for anyone who has made a study of Celtic artifacts. For the guy on the street, it’s a frown and a shrug. Guess how many scholars there are in Vegas versus average guys.”
    Risa didn’t bother to guess. Though she agreed with Shane’s reluctance to feature the clumsily made helmet with its gold foil more missing than present. She knew that putting the helmet together with the sword from the age of King Arthur would give more impact to both items than either one apart.
    “Properly displayed,” she said, “the helmet will appear menacing rather