‘I want Claude,’ Elliot said. ‘Hurry it up, Louis. I’m busy too.’
‘Of course... a tiny moment.’
Elliot watched him weave his way gracefully down the long aisle that led to Kendrick’s reception room. Kendrick refused to call this room in which he did all his big deals an office: a vast room with a picture window looking on to the sea, sumptuously furnished with some of the most impressive and expensive antiques that Claude possessed with paintings worth a fortune hanging on the silk covered walls.
While he waited, Elliot moved uneasily around the vast gallery examining the various objets d’art set out temptingly in glass cases. During the three minutes he waited he spotted several things he felt the urge to buy, but he knew Kendrick never gave credit no matter how important the client.
Louis minced towards him.
‘Please come... Claude is so happy! You know, Mr. Elliot, you have been neglecting us. It must be four months since you have visited us.’
‘Yeah.’ Elliot followed Louis’s slim back. He entered Kendrick’s reception room.
Claude Kendrick was standing by the window, staring down at the sea. He turned as Elliot came in and his fat face creased into a smile.
‘What a freak!’ Elliot thought. ‘That godawful wig! He’s fatter than ever!’
‘My very dear Don,’ Kendrick said and enfolded Elliot’s hand in both his. Elliot felt as if his hand had been thrust into a bowl of warm, slightly moist dough. ‘How very good to see you again. You’re naughty to have neglected me. How is the poor foot... the poor darling?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Elliot said. ‘They dropped it in the furnace, I believe.’ Moving away from Kendrick’s overpowering massiveness, he sank on to a Louis XVI settee. ‘How are things with you?’
‘Fair... let us say we don’t grumble. We have much to be thankful for. And you, dear Don, how are things with you?’ Kendrick paused, putting his head on one side and a sly look came into his little eyes. ‘I heard about that dreadful Meyer — what a horrible man! I heard he won’t renew your contract. That man! I wouldn’t sell him one single thing in my beautiful gallery. He came to me once. He actually tried to bargain with me! There are people I can deal with and people I just can’t. There are people who fill me with revulsion. Meyer is that sort of people. You understand... of course you do! Is it true he won’t renew your contract?’
‘He would be crazy if he did,’ Elliot said. ‘Meyer’s all right. He’s in business to make money like you and me. I’ve got a tin foot, Claude, and that puts paid to my racket. I don’t blame Meyer. I’d have done the same thing if I had been in his place.’
‘There’s no pity in this horrid world.’ Kendrick grimaced. ‘But what am I thinking of? A little champagne... a whisky? Do have something?’
‘No, thanks.’
There was a pause as Kendrick lowered his bulk into a special chair he had designed for himself: a wing backed chair, cleverly designed as an antique but reinforced with steel and covered with what looked like a Gobelin but was in fact a brilliant fake.
‘Louis tells me you are busy so I won’t keep you,’ Elliot went on. ‘You remember that jade collection you sold me?’
‘The jade? Of course.’ Kendrick’s eyes turned watchful. ‘A beautiful set. Do you want it cleaned, dear Don? Jade needs cleaning once in a while. It is so easy to neglect one’s treasures.’
‘I don’t want it cleaned... I want to sell it.’
Kendrick took off his wig, polished his bald head with a silk handkerchief, then replaced the wig a little crookedly.
‘You look a hell of a sight in that goddamn wig,’ Elliot said with a burst of irritation.
‘It has a psychological effect on me,’ Kendrick said. ‘When I lost all my hair I was in despair. You have no idea, cheri, how I suffered. I have always despised stupid men wearing wigs to make them look younger. So I bought this abortion and I have fun with it and yet I don’t go around bald. It is good for me and it amuses my friends and it gets talked about.’
Elliot shrugged.
‘What about it? Are you in the market to buy jade?’
‘Cheri! I can’t believe you want to get rid of that lovely set! Perhaps you don’t realize... people talk about it. They envy you! It’s been mentioned three times during the years in the World of Art...’
‘I want to sell it.’ Elliot’s face was wooden. ‘What’s it worth, Claude?’
A glazed look appeared in Kendrick’s eyes: it was a look that came when he moved from seller to buyer.
‘Worth?’ He lifted his massive shoulders. ‘It depends on who wants it. You appreciate it — I appreciate it. It is a rare and beautiful collection but it is, after all a specialized item. You don’t find people interested in big jade collections every day in the week.’ He paused to stare inquisitively at Elliot. ‘Are you planning to trade it in for something else, Donny boy? Have you seen something in my beautiful gallery that has caught your fancy? That Spode collection for instance or...’
‘I want to sell it for cash,’ Elliot said, ‘and for God’s sake, don’t call me Donny boy.’
‘So sorry. Cash?’ Kendrick made a grimace making him look like a dolphin which had bitten into a hook. ‘Well now, there’s a problem. If you were thinking of trading it in for something else I would be able to make you a cosy offer, but for cash...’
‘How much?’
‘I would have to see it again of course. People are so careless... it could have got chipped, but if it is in mint condition — as I sold it to you — I think I could offer... say, six thousand. Yes, I might go to six as you are a good friend of mine.’
Blood rushed into Elliot’s face.
‘What the hell are you talking about? You stuck me for twenty-five thousand six hundred!’
Kendrick lifted his fat hands and dropped them in a gesture of despair on his fat knees.
‘But that was four years ago, dear Don. Prices have slumped, especially with jade. People aren’t collecting jade anymore. Good china: Spode... Wedgwood... there’s interesting money there but not for the moment in jade. It’ll come back, of course. In another two or three years I could offer you something that would give you a profit.’ He appeared to hesitate, then went on, ‘But, if you really want quick cash and because you are my friend, I’ll take a risk. I will give you ten. That’s the absolute top and I could live to regret it.’
Elliot shook his head.
‘No. I’ll try Miami. There are a couple of dealers there who could offer more. Okay, Claude... forget it.’
‘You’re not thinking of Morris Hervey and Winston Ackland, are you, cheri?’ Kendrick asked, his smile pityingly sad. ‘You mustn’t deal with them. Dreadful people and besides, they are up to their horrid eyes in jade. I did a deal with them three months ago before the bottom of the jade market dropped out. They would give you four.’
Elliot experienced a feeling of defeat. He had to have cash. Maybe ten thousand was better than nothing. The jade collection meant nothing to him now. In fact, it bored him.
‘There’s this other junk you sold me, Claude,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to keep any of it. Right now, I want cash. How about taking the lot back?’
Kendrick got up and walked to the cocktail cabinet, a magnificent piece of furniture of mother of pearl and tortoiseshell inlay. He poured two stiff whiskies, added ice from the built-in refrigerator and put one of the glasses by Elliot’s side. Then he sat down and regarded Elliot with what appeared to be genuine sympathy.