Page 15 of Pervade London
Maybe there was a clue inside to reveal who the case belonged to. I taught all ages, though had one of my students turned up with this I’d have remembered it. The antique design was gorgeous and unforgettable.
I clicked the case open and inhaled sharply, blinking to clear my vision.
A Stradivarius lay within the velvet interior.
Who the hell had left this here?
I ran my fingertips reverently over the maple neck. This beautiful seventeenth century violin was famed for its astounding sound.
Confused, I looked toward the gate, hoping to find someone there who could explain this extraordinary find. I knew it was worth a fortune.
Returning my attention to the violin, I lifted it out of the case with great care. A Sotheby’s auction tag was tucked beneath the fingerboard.
Could this be fromhim? The mysterious man who’d entered my life last night and then disappeared? Xander had said that he’d repay me…
It was stupid to think this had anything to do with him. There was another perfectly good explanation. No way could I continue with my day without at least trying to find the rightful owner of the Stradivarius. I knew what it felt like to lose one’s most precious possession, and I didn’t want anyone else to go through the same grief. Gently, I returned it to the case and shut the lid.
I grabbed the violin, locked up the house, and headed out, following my only clue—the auction tag. It was time to visit Sotheby’s.
I put my ear buds in and listened to Demi Lovato sing about not holding on and letting go. With that raw truth reminding me what it was going to be like giving up this priceless violin, I rode the Tube toward Mayfair.
Don’t think about keeping it.
This wasn’t meant for me.
But I couldn’t help but get excited over the thought of owning one of the world’s finest violins. There were so few of these in existence that even playing one was a privilege.
New Bond Street reigned with its impressive architecture and decadent shops. The one I was heading for was tucked between Delvaux, a fancy boutique, and Richard Green, a high-end art store.
Above the frontage of Sotheby’s hung its blue flag stating the company had been established in 1744. Inside were the kinds of experts who would come running to snatch this off my hands when I told them what was inside. The girl with a nose ring would no doubt cause a riot when she appeared with a Strad.
I stepped into the impressive foyer and was greeted by the receptionist, who glanced at the case. She led me to a door with “Charles Bisbee” stamped on the glass.
Inside the small office sat a sixty-something man wearing a tweed jacket and chatting on the phone. When he saw me, he held up a finger to tell me to wait, while he curiously considered the violin case.
He hung up. “How can I help?”
“I found a Stradivarius…” I waited for his surprised reaction, and then continued. “And I want to return it to its rightful owner.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Where did you find it?”
“Outside my house, on the doorstep.I found the Sotheby’s auction tag, so here I am.”
I opened the case to show him the instrument. Shock settled on his face.
“So you remember it?”
“It’s a Strad,” he replied, his tone sarcastic.
“Can you tell me the name of the person who bought it?”
He gave me a thin smile that served as ano.
“Right…confidentiality. Maybe you can get a message to him?”
“If I see the gentleman again,” he said.
“I’m not comfortable keeping it.”
