My Vampire Assistant - Chapter 92
I returned home with a new task on my ‘to do’ list and a bunch of new questions for JJ. Since they weren’t about him, I had high hopes of getting an answer. That’s not to say that it was hard to get an answer on things from him… except for the times it was.
When I entered the store through the back door, the store was still open, and I could hear voices from the main hall. JJ was charming someone’s money off them. I smiled, wanting to come around and watch, but not willing to interrupt him or distract his customer from buying things. Instead, I went upstairs to change clothes and then to the office. The light coming from within meant that the person I needed to see right now was already there. Exactly on schedule.
Kirill sat at a cleared office table, with his laptop open but put aside. He was carefully examining a porcelain figurine of a ballerina with a magnifying glass. His attention was so focused on the task that he didn’t notice me until I greeted him.
Good thing that I did that when he wasn’t holding the figurine in his hands, because Kirill was so startled, he dropped the magnifying glass. It fell on the table with a loud clang, but thankfully, the thick glass held strong.
“Oh, Diana, you scared me!” Kirill clutched at his heart, the sad lines on his worn face scrunching into a grimace of misery.
“Sorry, Kirill, I really didn’t mean to.” I smiled at him reassuringly and moved over to look at the figurine he was examining. One of my latest additions. In a good state, made approximately in seventies by an unknown master, but I wanted Kirill to cross-check me. “How’s everything going?”
“Well,” Kirill lifted his magnifying glass, checked it for cracks and put it back, “I thought that the master’s mark on this figurine was a little familiar, so I tried to see if I will find any correlations, but nothing.” He nodded at his laptop, where I could see now pictures of other figurines, magnified and focused on the masters’ marks.
“I think that if this mark looks similar to something more well-known, it’s only because the original master wanted to imitate someone,” I said. “But it’s good that you checked. Though, actually, Kirill, I wanted to ask you another thing. I hoped you might know…”
I explained to him my plight about Baroque chairs and a sofa. That’s not to say I didn’t have my own ideas whom to ask about it, but since Kirill was there, I wanted to find out what he had in mind, and then phone them all.
“It’s a commission, and it will be very profitable in the long run,” I concluded. “So, do you know anyone who might own a set like that?”
Kirill thought for a minute before shrugging with an apologetic face. “I know a about a lot of collectors interested in that period, but items so specific… A chance of them having them would be awfully low. I wouldn’t want to make you ask everyone in hopes to find a needle in a haystack, Diana… Though, I think it would be worthwhile to ask my cousin. He sees a lot of personal collections on his job.”
“Your cousin?”
“Yes.” Kirill’s lips curved up into a smile, but on his face it looked sad. “We aren’t very close, but he was happy to hear that I dropped my reproachful habits and found a steady job. He works in Hermitage and helps to negotiate between collectors and the museum when they want to make deals.”
Hermitage? Now I remembered. The same cousin who told Rita about Kirill who told me about him… Well, well, well. If said cousin cared for the well-being of his uncle, then he owed me one. Not really, but on an invisible moral scale I now held an advantage in future negotiations. I grinned.
“Thanks, Kirill. Can you send me his contacts in VKontakte?” When he nodded, I clapped my palms together. “Alright, I will message him later, and for now, let’s see what price tags we can put on the stuff we have here.”
⠀⠀
By the end of the day, I had a good bunch of items to put on the shelves instead of the ones sold already, and a thick list of people who could have or have seen a set like I was looking for, created by me with some more help from Kirill before his work time ended and he left. A long list, with many people to call, sorted by probability of finding something.
I hoped chances would be on my sight, because otherwise I will turn into an operator of a call-centre. Which is just an awful place to work at, according to Panda. As it was, I looked at my list put down on the office computer and just sighed. Was it too late to start calling today? I felt like it was. Or, to be more precise, I wanted it to be. Then I could put it off on tomorrow and spend today on something—anything—else.
Me, antisocial? Naaaah. But thirty calls in a row would be just too much. And would take all day, too.
“Why are you sighing so forlornly, ma chèrie? What is so hard, so important on your mind that you forgot all about me? Did Avarice say or done anything out of the line?” JJ’s velvety voice slithered through the air and enveloped me like a blanket… made from chocolate. There was a certain lightness to it, indicating humour, but even so, I had a feeling that the last question was anything but humorous.
Damn. I stood up and turned to sharply, I almost dropped the chair I was sitting on. Guilt filled my chest at the realisation that JJ probably worried… and, damn, I did completely forgot about him with all that chairs quest.
Then our eyes met, and JJ smiled wider. “Ah, ma chèrie, no need to look so guiltily. We both were busy, that much I heard.. But now we are not.”