Surprises were such awkward things, difficult too, especially when one lived with a telepath. Fortunately for Karl, E was not prone to poking about in other people's thoughts uninvited. If he hung out the "authorized personnel only" sign, she obeyed it. As such, he'd had it set atop the secret he'd been plotting for the last several months. The project was not an easy one. He had little to go on and the trail was thirty years cold. Still, he had managed to make some progress. The inventory of stolen items from the London police had been very helpful. The online antiques encyclopedia had been more helpful still. The truly difficult part had been in tracking E's family heirlooms down.
The Mode's had had to move twice while Edna was young- once to England and again to America about two years later. Once the war was over and bombs had stopped falling, they'd returned to London. Sadly, both parents had been murdered and their house plundered and burned, all objects inside either carried off or destroyed. E herself had only mentioned the event briefly in one of their "catch-up" conversations; chats that wandered back over what had happened during the forty year hiatus in the middle of their romance. He hadn't noticed until then that virtually all of her house's furnishings were contemporary pieces. The little mobile shrine she kept in her room stood alone as the single item in the house over twenty years of age. She'd shrugged the stolen items off as permanently lost and had said no more about it, but he hadn't needed X-ray vision to see the loss had in a small but personal way hurt. He decided then that he would try to get at least some of the missing items back.
There was a lot to recover. The house had been literally gutted down to the very light fixtures. Fortunately E had a near photographic memory and had catalogued the ransacked apartment in minute detail to the attending police officer. Sadly, very little progress had been made on the case concerning neither the missing objects nor her parent's deaths. The case had been closed, common thugs arrested and imprisoned as the perpetrators. Karl had his doubts as to how guilty the footpads truly were (at least in that instance) but someone had been blamed and punished and since E had been unwilling her pursue her lost belongings, no further action had been taken. However it had not been quite that simple. The Mode's deaths had caused a ripple in the super community that even he had felt. Syndrome had not been the first to hunt supers. Edna's parents had been deliberately targeted but for what reason no one was really sure. Care would have to be taken in tracking these stolen items.
So far he'd met with some small success. The larger items such as the tables and chairs- due to their size and value- were easy to find but difficult to identify. He'd chatted and wrangled with dealers incessantly about various pieces, trying to discern if they truly had belonged to Edna's parents or not. The tip-off to their authenticity had been eventually discovered quite by accident and was delightfully poetic in its irony. Large articles of furniture were always risky business to an antique dealer because of the possibility of inexpert "restoration" work and other defacements. And then of course there were the outright reproductions- modern pieces that looked authentic but weren't. One good way to check for authenticity was turn over the item in question and check the back or the bottom for heavy paint, cheap wood, a department store lot number, or some other tell-tale mark of forgery.
"You don't want this one, Gov, just a cheap Chinese knockoff," the dealer had told him in thick Cockney over the phone. Karl briefly reflected on how the British dialect was a language unto itself.
"Are you certain?"
"Yeah, s'got some red rubber stamp with them little stick-marks onnit. Proll'y post-war Occupation period. Ain't worth a quid."
A red rubber stamp of stick-marks?
"The piece in question actually belonged to a family with Japanese ancestry. Are you sure it isn't kanji?"
"Can-gee?" the shop keep echoed, bewildered. "To be honest, Mate, I don't know one from t'other."
"I don't suppose you could send a picture of this stamp?"
"Sure thing, half a minute."
"Certainly."
Karl waited the half minute while the owner of the antiques store loaded the photo onto the website.
"There. Wot's it look like to you?"
The Mode family name written in Katakana, that's what it looked like. Japanese was not one of the many languages he'd picked up over the years. However, he'd spent enough time with E to recognize her family moniker. Mrs. Mode had been a careful and meticulous woman, perhaps she'd seen fit to label all her items this way. Karl could only hope for such good luck.
"That's just what I'm looking for. How much is it?"
"You sure you want it? I cain't guarantee it's originality."
"It's the table I want. How much?"
The exchange rate being what it was, the little Jenny Lind table of dubious origins actually had been a remarkably good price. It was a little beat up, what with being stolen and then bouncing around from one antique shop to another, but nothing a little scratch cover and wood polish wouldn't cure. It hadn't been painted or re-varnished, just in need of a good dusting. There was little doubt that it would clash violently with most of E's Bauhaus decor, but there was also little doubt that she'd be thrilled to see it again. Her mother's mark made in red ink on the underside was evidence of that.
Once he knew the secret of the various items he had an easier time telling what was authentic and what was not. He found quite a few imitations. One or two pieces, he discovered, had been bought and it took some persuasion and no small amount of money in order to get them back. The story of Edna's looted home, usually left out when talking down dealers, came in handy for tugging on those family's heartstrings and their attachment to their ill-gotten goods. He felt a little guilty about those, but the lightness of his wallet helped considerably to counterbalance his potentially heavy heart. There were worse ways to spend money, after all.
The bits of jewelry and other smaller articles were hardest to ferret out. He'd almost certainly require Edna's help on those since none were labeled like the books and lamps and tables and other bigger pieces. Her father's sketches and blueprints proved especially pricey but he made note of them just the same. They and the other small items he catalogued and marked their locations to come back to later. The odd bits and trinkets like a brass rose bowl and silk fan he found at a junk sale for a dollar each. However, it was the jade "Deposed Buddha" that would cause him the most trouble.
Edna still spent a lot of time away from home. Keeping the fashion industry under control was a full-time job and so at times Karl found himself without his wife. Those days he devoted his time alone to his scavenger hunt. A promising lead led him to an expensive shop in the city, the sort that sold things better belonging in Christie's. There was no auction, though some of the pieces were still tagged from an estate sale. A gargantuan vanity of mahogany and inch-thick Italian marble made a particularly impressive monument to Victorian vaingloriousness. The original owners of the monstrosity must have had sturdy floors, the accompanying bed, washstand and dresser no less dark and Herculean in construction. Karl found himself tucking his elbows in, extra paranoid of knocking something hopelessly out of his price range off a shelf and into a thousand pieces. Fortunately, most of the breakables were locked safely behind glass.
Most of the knick-knacks appeared to lean towards bisque and glass oddments of flowers, birds, and cherubs. All things E abhorred. There had to be some more Asian items clustered somewhere, he'd called ahead and confirmed the Buddha's location after all. Perhaps he ought to simply ask. Striding up to the counter, he reached and rang the bell. A gentleman around his own age emerged from behind an Art Deco chifferrobe and came over to greet.
"Good afternoon Sir, my name is Emeil, how may I be of help?"
The man was foreign and attempting to swallow his accent if Karl's practiced ear was any judge. However, he made no comment but nodded in greeting of his own.
"Dr. Straussen. I called about the jade Buddha?"
"Of course Sir, I've set it aside for you. This way, please."
Karl followed the taller man through the maze of overpriced furniture and trinkets toward a counter near the back of the store. Upon closer inspection the counter proved to be a jewelry case with a dazzling assortment of earrings, brooches, rings, necklaces, bracelets, and hair ornaments as well as decorative table-top items clearly too valuable to be put in the glass cases along with the Royal Albert china.
A glint of red caught his eye and he turned to look. Good Lord. A set of elliptical, faceted garnets fringed with long gold beads and suspended from narrow golden chains lay on a square of white silk beneath the glass. Those earrings had belonged to Edna's mother. They had to. Surely there was not another pair in existence, particularly with one of the fringe beads missing on one of the fobs. What on earth were they doing here? He was given no more time to wonder. Emeil had returned from the back room, a lumpy bundle of Asian silk in his hands.
"Here you are, Sir." He set the roll of silk on the counter and unwrapped it to reveal a fat, bald figure standing about four inches tall in a flowing robe. Karl frowned.
"I'm afraid that isn't the figure I had inquired about."
"Sir?"
"The one I vas talking about had hair and a closed i sanghati /i ," he explained, shaking his head. "It vas also seated vith one hand up. It hasn't sold, has it?"
"No sir, but it was taken off our stock listing shortly after you called. I'm afraid the proprietor no longer wishes to sell it."
Karl's frown further creased his forehead. "Vhy? Has someone else made an offer?"
"It's possible, Sir."
"May I at least see the statue?"
"Let me see if I can find it."
"Thank you."
Karl further contemplated the trinkets in the case while Emeil hunted for the Buddha. Eyes wandering over the glittering assortment beneath the glass, an uncomfortable feeling began in the pit of his stomach. i One set hair ornaments, likeness of folding fans on the ends; One engagement ring, garnet set in gold; One ladies watch, gold Art Nouveau, damage to face; Set of six ivory chopsticks; One gentleman's ring, gold and onyx… /i The list of Edna's parents lost valuables scrolled in his mind as he noted and mentally checked off each item. Caught somewhere between elation and foreboding at having found so many of the lost articles in one spot, his mind whirled with questions. At least he knew where they were now. And if he couldn't buy the Buddha, he'd have to at least bring the earrings home for her and perhaps the watch.
"Here it is, Sir." Emeil had returned. Carefully, he set a thicker bundle of silk brocade on the counter unwrapped it. A worn yet gleaming green Siddhartha smiled serenely at him from the folds of the fabric, eyes closed, his long i sanghati /i draped over his crossed legs, right hand cradling a lotus, the left raised in blessing. It certainly looked like E's old "Deposed Buddha" as the family had christened him.
"May I see it?"
"Of course Sir, only do be careful."
"Of course."
Stretching, he took the hunk of jade in his hands and turned it over. As he suspected, the Mode family character had been scratched into the underside. Karl nodded and replaced the figure.
"Yes, this is the one I vas talking about. How much?"
"I'm afraid it isn't for sale, Sir."
"You said someone else had made an offer. I vill be happy to make you a better one."
"I'm afraid it's rather expensive, Sir…"
"How much?"
Emeil paused, considering his answer. Whatever the details, Emeil was evidently rather far down on the chain of command and privy to few details.
"The current offer is $1,500.00," he replied, clearly pulling the sum out of thin air. The statue, even authentic, was hardly worth so much. Still, it might be unwise to tip his hand. The shop had a disturbing number of the Mode family valuables on display. That alone was making him uneasy and it might be wiser to keep his knowledge concerning the origins of the items to himself.
"$2,000.00," Karl told him coolly. "And I vill take the garnet earrings and ladies watch as vell."
Emeil had turned pale but nodded numbly and removed the earrings and watch from the case.
It was not, Karl reflected driving home, the items securely packed and resting on the passenger's seat, as if he did not have the money to spend. He earned a respectable sum as a physician and had lived simply during the last forty years. A considerable horde had built up in that time and he had nothing better to do with it. Still, paying families to part with their furniture was one thing, getting gouged by posh antique dealers was another. Certainly he could have argued, but something in his gut told him that would have been unwise. Ah well. It was only money, and what was money in the grand scheme of things? The important thing was that E would be happy and therefore it had been $2,575.00 well spent. He just hoped his purchase would not cost them more before all was said and done.