Page 32 - Just Deserts

Excessories

precious stones, brooches clustering intricate mosaics, cameos with
microscopic cloisonné. The client examined each cursorily,
uninterested in price or point of origin. Clearly she had something
else in mind, and Melanie deployed her most solicitous manner to
elicit the parameters of that mental image.
“Perhaps,” she said, with an air of great studiousness, “you have
seen a slightly similar object? In a magazine article, or on television?”
The uniqueness issue had to be skirted, with no overt suggestion that
the client in reality desired a costume component in any respect
resembling one already in the wardrobes of her peers.
“You know,” said the woman, playing the same game, “I did see a
very interesting piece of jewelry—at least I think that’s what you’d
call it—the other day. It was like a huge bracelet, almost all the way
from the wrist to the elbow, covered in tiny ivory beads. It’s hard to
describe, but the effect was quite striking, and quite unlike anything
one usually sees in shops.”
Melanie had her instructions. Certain requests were to be handled
by the manager, and this was one of them. Her smile did not slip:
Excessories had a very generous incentive policy, wherein sales to
clients turned over to Mr. Pontebroglio produced an unusually large
finder’s fee for the fortunate clerk bringing him the buyer.
“If you’ll wait just a moment, I’ll see if Mr. Pontebroglio is
available. He is in charge of our special collections, and is much more
knowledgeable about exotic pieces than I am. We do carry some
special items which are not on the floor right now, but one of them
might be just what you are looking for.”
The salesgirl glided off to the rear of the shop, returning in less
than a minute.
“Yes, we’re in luck: he’s not busy right now. If you’ll follow me,
please. And could I ask your name? I’d like to introduce you
properly—he has a sort of old-world formality, but he is really a
wonderful man.”
“Certainly,” said the woman, her voice betraying a frisson of
nervous excitement. “I am Selma Childe.”
They passed between a pair of ornate Corinthian columns at the
rear of the showroom and through a short passageway expensively
carpeted and paneled. Melanie knocked lightly on a door to their left,
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