“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. I don’t want to represent myself as anyone who knows sporting art, but prints or watercolors on the walls are in keeping with the items in the store. And I can learn. I’ll enjoy learning.”
“If I see anything, what is your limit?” Carter got right to business.
“I think I had better stick to drawings, maybe a small watercolor. Mmm, a hundred fifty to two-fifty. I know the figures on what we are looking at are a bit higher but they are already retail prices or parameters for auction bids.” Kathleen looked at Sister.
“So you would double your price?”
“Most times, but one can always negotiate. The important thing is to get people in the store. I’m not an art dealer, but if I please someone and the price is right, they’ll be back.”
“Now, there’s a retail mind.” Carter laughed then turned to Sister. “Are we going to the joint meet? Last hunt you mentioned it in passing. The season is about over.”
“Our season ends March 14. Jane Winegardner, O.J., suggested all the other hunts come for the March 14 weekend. We’ll get two hunts off. She said there would be a big Andre Pater exhibit at the Headley-Whitney Museum.”
“Yes, I’ve been reading about that. Ought to be something a little different. Old Frankfort Pike in Lexington is lovely. Big farms, big money.” Carter glowed with the thought.
Yvonne inclined her head. “You must know where all the money is?”
“Not really. Harry, Kathleen’s late husband, had contacts to the old families in Virginia, old furniture. Well, it’s the same for antique jewelry. The money splashed around starting mid-nineteenth century. A wife became a man’s advertisement, if you will. Most of my contacts are east of the Mississippi just as most of Buddy’s are east of the Mississippi and north of the Mason-Dixon line. Lexington bursts with treasures.” He smiled slyly. “And remember, George Headley was a jewelry designer. Not what one would expect from the scion of a great family, but he was both creative and rebellious. I will never get any of his pieces, that I know. But I do okay.”
“Indeed you do.” Aunt Daniella smiled her seraphic smile.
“Aunt Daniella, you honor me. You all may not remember, but in 1994 the museum was robbed of much of Headley’s creations, to the tune of $1.6 million. Took them five years to nail the thieves, a gang in Ohio. Much of the jewelry was broken up, melted down, and sold. That was the end of that.”
“I would expect the Munnings stolen from Mrs. Buckingham, that one painting, would exceed the value of the jewelry?” Gray asked.
Kathleen shuddered. “Can you imagine owning a piece of art worth that much? However would you protect it?”
Abdul chipped up, “I’d let her know if anyone was around.”
Ribbon, eyes bright, replied, “You have to bite them. Really hard bites.”
Yvonne stroked her Norfolk terrier, not knowing the conversation.
“It seems to be the problem. Crawford spent a huge sum on his security, not that I ever asked, but he must have.” Carter held his hands palm upward.
Yvonne turned to Aunt Daniella. “Let’s go to Lexington. You, too, Kathleen, we could use a road trip.”
“Sounds good to me.” Aunt Daniella grinned, ever ready for adventure.
The door opened and a man, maybe in his early forties, walked in, holding some flyers in his hand. He looked at the gathering.
Kathleen stood up. “Can I help you? I’m Kathleen Dunbar, owner of 1780 House.”
“I’d like to leave you some flyers. I’m running for county commissioner.” He reached out to shake her hand, which she took. “Jordan Standish.”
No one said a word as Kathleen took the flyers. “You’re the one putting posters on telephone poles. You’re against foxhunting.”
“A cruel sport for rich people. Elitist. If you read my materials you’ll see I’m for free college, healthcare, representation, and mandatory birth control in insurance.”
Gray, looking at him, said, “You would prefer people play football?”
“Well, no, but foxhunting is wrong. If you look at my positions, you’ll see I am for income redistribution.”
Kathleen read his list. Some things she agreed with, some she didn’t.
Aunt Daniella read aloud, pausing when she reached…“Reparations. How interesting.”
“Well, I’ve got many places to visit but I invite you to any of my campaign meetings.” He turned and left.
When the door closed, Aunt Daniella purred, “I just love it when white boys talk about reparations.”
CHAPTER 24
March 4, 2020 Wednesday
“Look at the fixture card.” Walter sat with Sister at the Keswick Sports Club Grille.
“We usually end on the Saturday closest to St. Patrick’s Day. What’s the problem?”
“I’m not sure, but today at the hospital after surgery the head of the department called all of us into his office. As you know, there’s the virus that had appeared in Wuhan, China. Coronavirus-19 is devastating Italy, in Germany, moving globally.”
“I can’t say I’ve paid a lot of attention to it because I never know if what is reported from China is the truth.”
“The virus is the truth. The statements that it’s not serious are not. There is no First Amendment in China, as you know, so no one will admit anything until this thing is totally out of control.”
“Meaning it will arrive here?” she questioned.
“Thanks to air travel, Sister, it probably is already here. We just don’t know it. In a healthy person it seems like sniffles, a bit of fever, and being sluggish, but that passes after a day or two. There are people getting off planes at all our international airports who have traveled to China, to Italy, etc.”
“No one has said anything.”
“That’s why the department head called us in. He warned us that we are woefully unprepared. We don’t have enough of what we need, and that includes healthcare workers. The virus has to make its way across the Mideast and Europe before it erupts here full scale, but he advised us to prepare. He and the other department heads will meet tomorrow. We’ll need more beds and ventilators. Shortness of breath is a primary indicator.”
“Can hounds and horses get it?”
He smiled. “I knew you would ask that. So far no to horses, but if an infected person coughed and a hound inhaled the droplets, perhaps.”
“Do you think this will affect hunting? Our fixture card is operating for another eleven days.”
“It might. I don’t worry about you or staff. Nor the members. We are out in the open. Tailgates could be a problem if this hits before we think it will. But I don’t see how the virus can miss us.”
“Well, Walter, how fatal is it?”
“Depends on age and robustness. Older people, those over sixty, are vulnerable. You, probably not. Let’s say someone who has diabetes, any age, or someone who has suffered a stroke or has a chronic condition. Anyone who has had an organ transplant better be careful. The percent of death relative to age is beginning to become clear, but no one knows how long the virus can live, say, on a table. It’s what we don’t know right now that is the problem.”
“Let’s wait until things are more clear. All any communication to members can do at this point is frighten people. But if the time comes, I will send a letter out after you read and sign it.” Sister paused. “So you will be exposed no matter what, don’t you think?”
He nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a doctor. I’m exposed to stuff every day.”
“Sister.” Carter Nicewonder came in wearing a bespoke sports coat with a silk lime green tie, which worked for him, Mrs. Redmayne at his side.