The library was dark and empty when Zhan pulled open the door, light from the hall spilling into the room. There was something wrong. What was that on the sofa? He flicked on the light, revealing his Lowry had moved from the wall to the sofa in the...
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"$14 million," the auctioneer called,
"do I see $14.5 million?"
Xiao Zhan leaned back against a wall, observing the crowd of potential bidders. He was just here to watch today. Normally he wouldn't attend an auction unless there was art he was buying or selling—either for himself or for clients—but he had been invited by a friend to attend and watch his painting, a study by Renoir, sell.
The room was fuller than usual, with plenty there purely to see what might happen during this lot.
Next to Zhan, his friend Wang Zuo Cheng was staring fixedly at his painting, determined not to let it out of his sight. If he'd been allowed, he would be holding the thing in his hands until the hammer dropped.
Two days ago, The Little Ice Prince, the phantom thief who had been terrorising the art collectors of WJJW for decades, had sent a note to the police.
Dear Sirs,
Two days from now, a painting by Renoir owned by Wang Zuo Cheng will go under the hammer at the WJJW Auction House. I am writing to inform you of my intention to steal it.
Kindest regards, The Little Ice Prince
Security had been immediately stepped up and Zhan hoped for his friend that it would be enough. Word had gotten out and the auction room was buzzing with people hoping to see The Little Ice Prince's latest escapade- or see him being caught. Zhan wasn't sure which they wanted more.
"He's not going to come," Zuo Cheng said as the budding soared upwards and started to peter out. The tension in the room was simmering.
Zhan didn't reply. The Little Ice Prince had never failed to show up before. And he'd only once failed his mission. There was no doubt he would be appearing before the end of the night.
"$40 million, going once."
A susurration of whispers crossed the room. Where was The Little Ice Prince?
"Going twice."
Security must have caught him, Zhan thought and hoped. They wouldn't make a fuss about it if they had, especially not at this late stage of the auction. The auctioneer raised his gavel and the lights cut out.
There was a moment of silence and then all hell broke loose.
"Someone grab my painting!" Zuo Cheng roared above the screams. Whether or not anyone heard him, Zhan didn't know, but he himself made no attempt to move, it was thoroughly unsafe to fight his way across the room full of panicking people.
All around him were crashes and yells as people ran into each other and things, all trying to escape or get to the front, to catch The Little Ice Prince themselves.
