Red-Hot Vengeance
Authors: Sandrine Spycher
Copyright © 2015 Sandrine Spycher
All rights reserved.
Cover design by S. Rubi
In the same series, already available:
Red-Hot Ruby
In the same series, to be released:
Red-Hot Gaze
This book is a work of fiction. All characters in this novella are fictitious.
Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Warning:
This book contains swearing and explicit sexual content. It is thus
not
appropriate for very young readers.
The Ruby
The auction sale had been advertised for two months through every dubious informant in every part of New York and even beyond. Of course the authorities knew nothing about it. Most of the items on sale had been stolen, so nobody wanted to see any cops around the place. People went there by cab but all of them gave the driver a nearby address. We wouldn’t want to attract attention, would we? Having so many thieves, con-artists, and criminals of different kinds in one place was dangerous enough.
The place was not really inviting anyway. It was an old rotting storage building in Downtown Brooklyn. It had been specially prepared for the auction sale. That is, once you got inside, you noticed there was actually something going on there on that particular day. From the outside, it was just as gray and ugly as usual.
For obvious security reasons, people attending the sale were asked to leave their guns at the entrance. Most of them did, but not all. Even among villains, there’s always someone more evil than the devil who’ll try to double-cross the others. Plus, the so-called security agents just piled the guns in a wooden box. Thus if anyone was to trap the crowd, they’d just have to stand by the door and pick a weapon. But that wouldn’t happen of course. Criminals can also be honest sometimes.
Most of the items for sale were brought by the owners themselves. No one wanted to risk losing the merchandise or have it stolen on the way. There were all sorts of art: beautiful paintings, precious jewelery, rare and ancient books, priceless Swiss watches, and even a unique Chinese saber entirely made of silver. The items were displayed on a long counter which looked expensive, but was actually built with cheap wooden boxes covered by dark red satin drapes.
The counter was in front of the entrance. Between the door and the precious objects for sale were a great number of chairs. The organizers of the clandestine auction sale were expecting a lot of customers. The animator would stand on a leveled step near the middle of the counter and speak into a microphone. Behind him the objects would appear on a big screen so that everyone could have a good look at them, though buyers already knew which item they were going to fight for.
It was now ten in the morning and most of the sellers had left their goods on the counter. Each stayed close to their art. A cold atmosphere of distrust reigned in the storage building. Men and women, common thieves and famous con-artists, organizers and guests; all looked at one another suspiciously. Every person entering the hall had to suffer an inspecting eye by the ones already present. Far from being uncomfortable, they usually answered with the same look meaning “Don’t mess with me or you’ll regret it.”
Among those people was a woman carrying a small metallic box under her arm. Her high-heeled steps sounded loudly in the hall as she walked with a purpose. She barely even paid attention to the different people looking at her. And of course she kept her gun hidden in her left black leather boot. She walked straight to the counter and looked for the number indicating the spot of her art.
“Hello, may I help you?” the soon to be animator of the sale asked.
The woman scrutinized him. He seemed honest enough. “I’m looking for number four,” she said.
“Oh, the ruby,” the animator replied with wide eyes.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“It’s right here, next to my podium,” he indicated. “We were only waiting for you to begin. Your item is certainly one of the most precious here.”
She smiled. “I know. It is
the
most precious. And I hope to get a price matching its value,” she answered firmly.
She took the ruby out of the suitcase and laid it on the little satin cushion provided. The gem was absolutely resplendent. It glowed with a blood red light that attracted every eye until the animator started speaking.
“Please join your seats,” he announced. “The sale will begin very shortly. Let me first thank all of you for participating in this event. I hope that both sellers and buyers will find the object of their desire.”
A tall man sat in the fourth row. He was barely listening to the animator who was now presenting lot number one. The man’s cold blue eyes were still attached to the ruby. He knew of its value, but not of its owner, although he might have had a hint when he caught a glimpse of the woman’s face.
“Lot number four,” the animator said, “is this absolutely magnificent ruby. As you can see, it is not only a precious gem but also very good art. Its flower shape was carved by the famous
Monsieur
Duval who probably got even more famous for having this beauty stolen.”
The crowd laughed lightly at the joke while the ruby was displayed on the screen. The red glow soon caught the attention of a warlike customer.
“That ruby is a fucking fake,” she yelled, standing up from her chair. She had long blond hair tied up in a tight ponytail. Her angry eyes were concealed behind black
Ray-Ban
glasses. She was pointing at the art with a thin finger over-decorated with gold rings and precious stones. A huge gold necklace rested on her chest. She was dressed in the most expensive way: boots made of forbidden serpent leather and a long fox fur coat.
Every head turned to see who was thus denouncing the value of the object along with the honesty of its seller. The tall man immediately recognized her. If the authenticity of the ruby was proved, he would be in great trouble. He sank into his chair, waiting for an opportunity to escape this dangerous situation.
“It is
not
,” the seller said angrily. “I stole it myself from the art gallery hosting it a year ago.”
“It’s a fake. I bought the real one about eight months ago,” the other one continued.
“Now please, miss Vaughn, miss Farrell, calm down,” the animator asked, but he had some difficulty in making his voice heard. “We have a specialist with us,” he added, “who will authenticate this piece.”
“How about the other pieces?” someone cried. “They might be forgeries too”
“Yeah,” another one said. “What the fuck is this cheap auction sale with fake art?”
Soon all customers started yelling at the poor animator. He didn’t know what to do or how to handle the situation. He looked at his colleague by the door and made a sign with his head. At that very instant, a gun was fired. The loud noise of the shot made everyone shut up and turn to the door. The tall man who was about to run away swore as he got stopped by the shot.
“Mister Atwood is your host, you will do as he says and everything will be fine,” the shooter calmly commanded.
“Thank you,” the animator, Atwood, said. “Now please go back to your seats.” He waited until order had somewhat come back to the hall before continuing. “Now, Douglas, if you could please work your magic and tell us about the authenticity of that ruby.”
The man called Douglas approached the ruby with a jeweler’s magnifying glass and a notepad. While he was scrutinizing the ruby, the tall man discretely walked toward the exit. But Farrell stopped him.
“Leaving so soon, mister Carter?” she asked.
He sighed and turned around. “Hello, little girl,” he said. “Is that the real one?” he inquired pointing at the ruby.
“Of course,” Farrell answered. “Are you telling me you don’t recognize it?” As he didn’t say anything she continued. “Why were you about to leave?”
“Because I’m in trouble. And that’s thanks to you, I might add,” he grumbled.
“Hm, I’m flattered. What did I do to get you into trouble?” Carter’s eyes were as blue and cold as she remembered them. She noticed he was closely watching Douglas work on the ruby. Yet, Carter was blinking more rapidly than usual. His lack of eye contact with her wasn’t habitual either. As Farrell remembered, Carter couldn’t keep his eyes off her, particularly when she was wearing a low neckline cut, just like now.
“If that guy says the ruby is real—” Carter started.
“He will,” Farrell interrupted him. “I stole it, remember?”
“With my help. Yes I remember. I also remember us getting caught and losing the ruby.”
Their private chat was interrupted by Vaughn’s violent yells. Farrell looked at Carter, but he avoided her and went back to his chair. Farrell walked toward her ruby with a victorious smile.
“Are you still doubting my word, or can we get on with this sale?” she bitterly asked.
While the sale resumed and the bids for the ruby raised to tremendous heights, Carter observed Farrell and called to mind his adventure with her. Almost exactly a year before, he had attempted to steal the ruby that was now being sold for over four million dollars. Carter had failed; he hadn’t even been able to lay a single finger on the gem.
Farrell had been faster and—although Carter wouldn’t admit it for the world—smarter than him. Carter had found her along with the ruby at her place, but they were stopped by the police. In a failed attempt (because of Farrell) to escape, they’d both got arrested. Yet Carter wasn’t good at being arrested. Thus he’d escaped and, for a reason even
he
couldn’t explain, he’d helped Farrell run free as well.
And now, twelve months later, when he had almost forgotten about the whole story, there she was with the ruby. And he was having such a good day until then. With crossed arms, and his foot tapping the floor, Carter sat back in his chair, waiting for this fucking auction sale to be over so that he could go home.
All those people were talking too loud. No, actually the only one talking was Atwood. All the others were breathing too loud, and starting to give a headache to Carter. Somewhere deep inside of him, he knew he shouldn’t have come. But that beautiful watch…
Carter rubbed the back of his neck to try and relax his rigid muscles. He couldn’t help but thinking over and over again about his escape from the police with Farrell. How on Earth did she get the ruby back? She couldn’t have simply walked back, not with all the officers kindly waiting for her. Or perhaps the real ruby had never left her place at all.
Carter coughed in his sleeve. He felt like shouting, but that would attract too much attention. And he didn’t want that. Especially not coming from Vaughn. It was the second time he saw her in person. She was creepy. With all her dangling jewelery, she looked like a Christmas tree. Carter almost laughed out loud at that thought. Almost.
Now that she’d discovered the ruby he’d sold her was a forgery, he might be in quite a lot of trouble. Not really because of her, but because of her power and the number of men working for her. She had even more minions than Gru. Carter could have chosen a less dangerous person to con. He probably would have if she hadn’t been the one offering the biggest sum. So he took his chances and sold her a beautiful rose he had carved himself in red glass.
The sale was slowly coming to an end. There were only five lots left. As he didn’t want to expose himself, Carter hadn’t tried to get the watch. It had gone to a fat guy looking like a Doctor Who nerd. What a waste. Carter was still digesting his frustration when loud noises as of strikes against the metallic door were heard.
When the doors were crashed open and men and women in uniforms appeared holding guns, the atmosphere went from critical to chaotic. Although the police officers repeatedly shouted “Nobody move,” the criminals ran to the best place to hide. Those who had kept their guns with them soon started shooting back at the police.