Nothing concrete turned up initially. There were plenty of antique boxes, but only a few resembled the one Mrs. McAllister gave him.
It was when he took a photo and ran an image search that he finally found a match.
Felix’s gaze flickered between the photos on the webpage for a prestigious auction house and the box in his hands.
His fingers began to shake as he admitted to himself that they were a perfect match.
Felix swore under his breath. This box was worth $250,000! It was an almost unimaginable amount.
If he could sell it at full price, or more…his brain ran through all the possibilities of what he could do with that much money.
Then he remembered Suzie saying she never got nice things before running from the room. He decided then to keep the box for her and that any money he made from it would go toward his daughter’s future.
Felix put the box away in a safe place so he could think about the best way to sell it. A few days later, Felix had just arrived home from a morning job when his phone rang.
An unknown number was calling, but that wasn’t unusual. He assumed it was a client until the man on the other end spoke.
“This is Tim, Mrs. McAllister’s lawyer.
I’d like to meet with you, if you don’t mind?”
“Uh, sure,” Felix replied uncertainly. “When?”
“As soon as possible. Are you available now?”
Tim’s urgency made Felix wary, but he agreed to meet the lawyer at a cafe in town.
Despite his unease, he was curious about why the lawyer wanted to see him.
His confusion grew when he entered the cafe and saw a familiar face seated at a table with the man who had to be Tim.
“Henry.” Felix nodded politely to Mrs. McAllister’s no-good son. “My condolences for your loss.”
“Thanks.” Henry glared at him.
“Take a seat, and let’s get to the point.”
“Henry, calm down. Felix has come all this way at very short notice, let him at least get comfortable and perhaps get something to drink.” Tim smiled at Felix. “This is all on me so order whatever you want.”
“Thank you, Tim, but I’d like to know what this is all about, so…” he glanced from Tim to Henry expectantly.
“Well, you see—” Tim started, but Henry cut in.
“It’s about a very valuable family heirloom that’s gone missing from my mother’s house, a small box with some dials on the lid.”
Henry set his elbows on the table and leaned toward Felix.
“You were the last person in her house. I know that box didn’t just vanish and I wanted to give you a chance to do the right thing.”
“You think I stole from your mother?” Felix yelled.
“Let’s all lower our voices and discuss this calmly,” Tim said. “Now, Felix, nobody is accusing you of theft—”
“Actually, I think that’s exactly what this lazy show-off is doing.” Felix sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“I do have the box you’re looking for, not because I stole it. Mrs. McAllister gave it to me as thanks for cutting her grass—a chore you should’ve done for her!”
“Mom would never have given you that box!” Henry stabbed his finger in Felix’s direction.
“It belonged to my great-great-grandfather, a well-known politician, who commissioned it from a famous artisan! It’s one of only two in the world! Why would she give it to a nobody like you?”
Felix shrugged.
“Maybe because this ‘nobody’ was there to help her when you weren’t.”
“I’ve had enough of this. This is what we’re going to do, Felix,” Henry replied. “You’re going to return the box to me and I’ll give you $1000 for it.
Deal?”
“You must think I was born yesterday. That’s a tiny fraction of what that box is worth.”
“Okay, this is getting very out of hand.” Tim gave both Henry and Felix a sharp look. “Now, Felix, I’m sure you can understand Henry’s misgivings about this unusual situation.
He only wants his family heirloom back. As he said, it has sentimental value—”
Felix huffed. “Tim, I don’t know how well you know Henry, but it’s well known that he squandered the wealth his father left him, which is why Mrs.
McAllister ended up being unable to afford a nursing home or any sort of home help. He only cares about the dollar value of that box, not the sentiment.”
“You have some nerve!” Henry snarled.
“It’s about time somebody put you in your place.” Felix moved his chair away from the table and stood.
“If you care so much for the box then you’re welcome to join the bidding when I put it up for auction. Goodbye, Henry.”
“You won’t get away with this!” Henry yelled after him.
“I’ll have you arrested!’
Felix strode from the cafe with a broad grin on his face. For years, he’d looked on in silence as Henry flitted in and out of his mother’s life in his loud car, never staying long and never doing anything to help her. Knowing he’d given the man a piece of his mind felt good.
The next day, Felix went to a local auction house to have the box appraised.
A very serious-looking man with a snooty accent called Mr. Whitaker invited him into a back room for the appraisal.
Mr. Whitaker’s eyes widened when Felix placed the box on the table in the center of the room.
He pulled on a pair of gloves and examined the box closely.
“I can immediately verify that the craftsmen’s mark on the underside is authentic,” Mr. Whitaker said. “That means this is quite a notable piece, sir.
One of only two in the world. How did you come by it?”
“Well, it was given to me as a gift.”
“A gift?” Mr. Whitaker stared at him incredulously.
“The person who gifted this to you must think very highly of you, sir. Will you excuse me for just a moment?”
“Uh, sure,” Felix replied.
He watched Mr. Whitaker leave the room.
Something didn’t seem right to Henry. He moved closer to the door. A few minutes later, he heard rapidly approaching footsteps and Mr.
Whitaker’s voice on the other side of the door.
“…rather shabby fellow, yes, I suspect he may have stolen it.”
Felix quickly returned to the table. He didn’t like the sudden turn this appraisal had taken. He half thought he might take the box and leave, but the door opened, and a woman entered with Mr.
Whitaker in tow.
“Hi, I’m Ellen, and I hear you’ve brought a very interesting piece for appraisal.” The woman smiled brightly and leaned over to study the box. “That is quite lovely…may I see your provenance documentation?”
“Excuse me?” Felix asked. “What sort of documents are you looking for?”
A muscle twitched in the woman’s cheek.
“We require some documentation to prove provenance, sir.
I believe you received this box as a…gift?”
“That’s right,” Felix replied.
“Usually, you would provide us with a certificate of authentication, or invoices and receipts, letters, pictures, any authentic and verifiable document that can prove the artifact’s authenticity and your ownership. Did the person who gave you this gift provide such documentation?”
“Uh…I left all that stuff at home,” Felix lied. He took the box from the table and moved toward the door.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about all that. I’ll go fetch it and be right back.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t let you do that.” The lady sidestepped to block his path to the door. “We have to be cautious with items tied to historical figures like this one since it was owned by a politician.
We are obliged to notify the authorities of any irregularities.”
“You want to call the cops on me?” Felix yelled.
“That is our protocol, sir. Alternatively, we can hold the box here until you return with the documentation you left at home.” The woman held out her hand expectantly.
Felix panicked. There was only one door into the room, and it was currently blocked off by Mr.
Whitaker and Ellen. But it was his only chance to escape, so he dodged around the woman and Mr. Whitaker and rushed into the hallway.
Someone yelled, but Felix was sprinting now. He reached the reception area just as an alarm started blaring.
Felix felt like he was back on his high school football field as he dodged and slipped past guards who hurried forward to stop him. One caught hold of his arm, but he jerked free and raced out of the building and onto the street.
He ran from there until his legs felt like jelly.
Felix paced his sitting room as he pondered his next move. He needed to sell the box to invest in Suzie’s future, but he couldn’t do that unless he had some kind of paperwork…an aspect he still didn’t
