Macster - The Missing Links

Somehow they managed to cash in their chips and get to the auction hall. But as they neared it, there was a crush of people around the doorway, preventing them from getting in. Tony pushed and shoved his way through, opening the way for Virginia and Wolf, while Wendell ran ahead. "Emergency, coming through!"

Finally he broke past the last bystander, reached the step--and froze in horror. "Whoa!"

There, crumpled on the stoop, lay the elderly Elf who had been so interested in the mirror. Cold and lifeless, a surgical slash across his throat, blood staining his chest. His cane was gone.

"Sliced him for his money," someone observed unnecessarily.

"Move it along," said an authoritative voice. Tony looked up and saw what had to be the sheriff of Kissing Town approaching, for he sported a billy club and a silver badge on his suitcoat, although his fine suit rather belied the frontier sheriff image. "Just a dead Elf, nothing to see here. Wings ain't flapping anymore." The sheriff waved his club and started dispersing the crowd.

Virginia tugged on Tony's sleeve, and he remembered why they were there. Wrenching his eyes from the Elf's body, he dashed inside after the others.

The auction had already started when they entered, Virginia saw, the room being full of countless people, most of them well-dressed, waving their paddles as the auctioneer gestured on the podium with his gavel. And, on the block, was their mirror.

"Oh, no!" Virginia muttered.

"For the final time," the auctioneer was saying, "I am bid three thousand, eight hundred gold pieces. Any advance?"

A large antique dealer in the front row put his hands over his ample stomach. Obviously he thought the mirror was going to be his.

"Going once...going twice..."

"Five thousand gold pieces!" Tony shouted from behind Virginia, holding up the bag of coins.

The huge hall echoed with gasps from the audience.

"Five thousand," the auctioneer said, pleased. "Will anyone increase on five thousand gold Wendells?"

The antiques dealer shook his head in disgust.

"Five thousand," the auctioneer said. "Any advance on five thousand?"

Virginia clasped her hands together. They had it. No one else was going to bid.

"Going once...going twice..."

"Ten thousand," a voice said from the other side of the room.

Virginia felt a chill run down her back. She knew that voice. She turned. The Huntsman was standing in the back, his pale eyes on her. He was holding a pipe and he didn't seem injured at all.

"It's him!" she said to her father.

"Going once," the auctioneer said. Her father looked lost. They didn't have enough to buy the mirror. But he turned anyway. "How'd he get ten thousand?" he hissed.

"Going twice," the auctioneer said. "Sold to the gentleman with the pipe. Your name, sir?"

"Mr. Hunter. I will pay immediately." He pushed off from the doorjamb where he was leaning and followed the auctioneer's assistants as they carried the mirror into the back office. As he walked, Virginia noticed he was using a cane, the head of which glinted a brilliant silver in the light.

Beside her, her father gripped her arm. "He's got the Elf's cane! That's how he got the money, he killed the Elf!"