68.
THE PANEL BEGAN on a somber note. Most of the attendees were in place and the door was locked when Fernand took the lectern. Conspicuous by his absence was one of the Palestine group.
“My friends. You all know we have lost one of our number. It is a tragedy, but it is also a caution. This is not the time or place to be indulging in weaknesses. If you have a problem with alcohol, with drugs, with sex, with gambling, you must control these urges.”
Fernand gave them all a stern look. Then he smiled. “But now to the business at hand. This is what you have all been waiting for, a chance to own some of the rarest animals still living on the planet.
“And let us start off with one of the rarest of the rare, all the way from Australia, something most of you will have never seen before—outside of children’s cartoons, I’ve been told—an actual Tasmanian devil!”
An animal in a cage was brought in and set on one of the tables. It looked like a ferocious giant rat, with wide open mouth and gleaming teeth.
The presenter was dressed for the Australian outback, in safari clothes and hat. He had a British accent and a cocky manner.
“The Tasmanian devil, ladies and gentlemen, is for those of you who like to live dangerously. This is Rosie. Rosie doesn’t like you. Rosie doesn’t like anybody. Rosie is a carnivore, and she kills. The Tasmanian devil is endangered because cancer has ravaged the species. Not Rosie, however. Rosie is disease free. Those of you who have brought vets and biologists may take blood samples for testing if you wish. But Rosie is not going to like it, and she’s fifteen pounds of fighting fury. She’s young, vigorous, healthy, and, frankly, I will be happy not to take her home.”
“All right,” Fernand said. “Let’s start the bidding at ten thousand euros. Do I hear ten thousand?”
A hand went up.
Fernand pointed. “I have ten thousand. Do I hear twenty?”
A hand went up on the other side of the room.
“I have twenty thousand. Do I hear thirty?”
He did. The Tasmanian devil eventually went for seventy-five thousand euros.
Teddy was concerned. If that ugly and insignificant snarling animal went for seventy-five thousand dollars, would a half million be enough for a magnificent black rhino?
He was not to find out. The auction ran long, and the black rhino was held over to the next day. Teddy wondered if that was a ploy to build suspense and drive up the price. There was still time left, but perhaps not enough for a spirited auction.
“So,” Fernand said. “I must apologize. I know there are a number of people eager to bid on the black rhino. But it is one auction, I think you will agree with me, that should not be rushed.” He smiled. “But there is still time for one special treat. You cannot bid on him. He is not an endangered species, and nothing you would want to hunt. He is, in fact, a hunter’s best friend.”
There were a few murmurs in the crowd.
“That’s right. Allow me to introduce Rocky, short for Rock Star, one of the most talented hunting and herding dogs on the planet. For anyone working with animals, he is invaluable. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Rocky!”
A handler came out with a dog on a leash. After such a buildup, Rocky was totally unprepossessing. He was a perfectly ordinary large, brown English setter. It was impossible to believe that he was a trained hunting dog. Goofy and lovable was more like it. A family pet. He bounded out with unbridled glee, spun around, and wrenched the leash from the trainer’s hand. Delighted to be free, he romped across the room, wagging at the crowd. He reared up on his hind legs, put his paws on Aziz’s lap, and tried to lick his face.
It was the first time Teddy had ever seen the little man react. His face showed utter panic, and he dove away from the dog, knocking over the woman from the Chinese contingent as he went.
The trainer was quickly by his side, grabbing the leash, and pulling Rocky away.
Fernand jumped in front of them, putting up his arms and raising his voice. “I’m sorry about that, everyone, but how can you not love that special dog? A brilliant hunting dog, and one of the most lovable animals on the planet. You cannot buy him, but I knew you would admire him.”
Aziz did not look like he agreed.
Teddy pressed his cell phone to his ear, faking an urgent phone call. He pushed his way out of the row. Some of the people he climbed over glared at him, but no one was surprised.
The guards let him out while the handler was loading Rocky into a crate.
Teddy went through the lobby and down the hall to the stairway that serviced the underground garage. He knew from Marcel that the majority of the animal transport vehicles were parked on level three. When he emerged onto the floor, he found it packed with trucks and vans, and crates on skids just like the one Rocky had been loaded onto.
Teddy walked out among the cars, took up an inconspicuous position, and waited.
Rocky and his handler were down in five minutes, accompanied by two goons, a pair of steroidal types nearly indistinguishable except for the fact that one had red hair and one had brown. They loaded Rocky’s crate into the back of a panel van. The handler got in with him. The goons got in the front seat and started the van.
Teddy smashed the window of an older car that looked like it didn’t have an alarm. It didn’t. He opened the door, got in, and hot-wired it. He backed up, and pulled out of the space just in time to see the van with Rocky heading up the ramp toward the exit. He pulled out and followed along.
69.
IT FELT RIDICULOUS to tail somebody while wearing a Stetson hat. Teddy took it off and put it on the front seat beside him. He wished he could take off his moustache as well, but removing it with one hand while driving with the other was a recipe for disaster. Teddy scrunched down in the front seat and followed the van.
The van seemed to be headed for Stone Barrington’s mews house. Of course, it wasn’t. It took a roundabout, made a left turn, and drove away at a ninety-degree angle.
Soon Teddy found himself driving through a residential area in a middle-class neighborhood. After about a mile they came to a modest two-story frame house, with slanting ceilings and dormers. There was no garage. The van pulled into the driveway and parked.
Teddy stopped half a block behind.
The handler got out of the van with the dog on a leash. Rocky bounded happily around the front lawn, marking his territory, and sniffing whatever messages any other dog might have left. It was a small yard; still, the process took forever. Rocky clearly wanted to do a thorough job.
While Rocky was playing, the goons carried the crate in the front door. They came out just as he was finally done. Rocky nearly knocked them down in his eagerness to get inside.
The handler followed the dog into the house. He locked the door behind him, leaving the muscle outside.