The Old Auction House

This story was written in the universe I created in "Portuguese Crime Reduction Act." It has no direct connection with the "Lost in Lisbon" and "Don't Drink and Drive" series, beyond sharing the same geographical location and being set in the same universe.

Please comment. Your comments and votes make this story a shared experience.

======

"Prestígio Auction House seeks inventory manager. Degree in art or marketing required. Competitive salary + benefits. Reply with CV to: Auction@frog.pt"

I drew a red circle around the advertisement and sent my CV to the email address. It was the umpteenth CV I had sent since completing my art history degree, and I held little hope of getting a response.

Of all the interviews I'd attended, every response had been negative - in those cases where they had bothered to respond at all. Either I was overqualified, or I lacked experience, or... or... or... The truth was, I was beginning to think my father had been right when he told me, "João, study computer engineering instead. Look at your cousin - he's already regional director of Hard & Soft Solutions, and he's not even 30." But no, I had always loved art, particularly classical and Renaissance art - the statues, the paintings, but more than that, the conception of beauty that was lost in modern art.

The years I spent studying museums, compiling inventories, and researching the lives of various artists and their periods. Workshops on aesthetics, two unpaid internships - one at the Gulbenkian Foundation and another at the Ancient Art Museum.

All of it had only served to get me a job restocking cans of sausages, dog food and shampoo in a hypermarket, earning minimum wage and insults from my boss. So when I received an email saying, "Dear Mr. João Ratão, we are pleased to inform you that your curriculum matches the profile sought by our company, and we would like to know if you would be available for an in-person interview at our company premises, Rua da mãe de água, No. 19, tomorrow at 10:20. Yours sincerely, Fernando Pereira, Director of Acquisitions and Valuation, Prestígio Auction House" My heart leapt - a response, just hours after sending my CV and from an auction house! I started imagining what would be my first job in my field of study, then I took a deep breath, I had to control my anxiety. It wasn't the first time I'd gone to an interview, only to end up disappointed and with my self-esteem shattered - still, this could be an opportunity.

=======

I woke up early - truth be told, I had barely slept. I tried to research something about the Prestígio Auction House company, their website. It showed the façade of a 19th-century building in the Amoreiras area, just below the Águas Livres aqueduct.

It had a section with upcoming auction dates as well as a gallery of previous auctions - paintings and sculptures from the 16th and 17th centuries, another with Baroque sacred art, as well as one designated "Special Acquisitions," but that link wouldn't open. I tried to learn something about Mr. Fernando Pereira - he was a thin man with a thick black moustache in his fifties, but I couldn't find much information beyond what I already knew and that he was the great-grandson of the house's founder.

I showered, shaved, and combed my hair. I looked in the mirror and combed it again. I put on my good suit, a navy blue pinstripe that I had bought for my thesis defence. My mother helped me with my tie and said I looked handsome.

Before leaving, I tried to make a confident face in the mirror, but it reflected back the ridiculous face of a 28-year-old man still living with his parents because he couldn't earn enough to rent a flat.

=======

I caught tram number 15, indifferent to the tourists and other passengers, through the narrow streets of Campo de Ourique. I got off at Amoreiras Garden and walked the remaining distance. In the garden, the century-old mulberry trees provided shade to children playing cheerfully - trees ordered planted by the Marquis of Pombal in 1757, two years after the earthquake that destroyed Lisbon, to foster the silk production industry and compete with fabrics from China. It was an industry that survived until the end of World War II - now these ancient trees and a few mansions were all that remained of that project.

I crossed the garden, indifferent to all this, and finally reached the address. The building had an oak door with a cast iron knocker and a gilded brass plaque on the white limestone doorframe, which read "Casa Prestígio, Auctioneers established 1898." The building was older, with a pastel blue façade and a row of windows with wrought iron bars, typical of the period.

I took a deep breath, mentally rehearsed how I would present myself, adjusted my tie, ran my hand through my hair, and rang the white doorbell beneath the brass plaque. 'Triiim! Triiim!'

An elegant woman with long black hair opened the door. She wore a fitted black dress that accentuated her figure.

Her impeccably lined black eyebrows and fine nose. Her dark brown eyes contrasted with the most porcelain-like skin I had ever seen. "Mr. João Ratão?" she said in a husky voice, her lips painted a rich, sensual dark red.

"Yes, that's me. I have an interview with Mr. Fernando Pereira," I responded awkwardly. She smiled and led me into the building.

We entered a room with high ceilings, the wooden floor covered by a red carpet, against the wall a brown leather sofa and two more leather armchairs, on the wall several portrait paintings, and a blackwood crucifix, possibly 18th century. The brunette led me to a staircase, and as she climbed, I appreciated her bottom and the way her hips swayed with each step. Her black high heels made her legs appear even longer and well-sculpted even if I didn't get the job, she had made the trip worthwhile.

"This way, Mr. Ratão," said the brunette, opening a dark wooden door with white porcelain handles. The office was spacious, with an antique mahogany desk. Behind it, in a leather armchair, sat a thin man with a well-trimmed black moustache. "Ah, Mr. Ratão, welcome," he said, rising and shaking my hand while indicating the chair in front of him. "Teresa, you may leave," he said to the brunette, who bowed her head before silently departing - it was then that I noticed the stainless steel collar around her neck.

"Good morning, Mr. Pereira, thank you for having me," I said to him. He sat back in his armchair and, with a broad smile, replied, "I should thank you for responding to our advertisement. Your CV is perfect for our organization - how is it that someone with your talent is working in a supermarket warehouse?" It was a question I often asked myself. "Bad luck, and in Portugal the number of positions available for an art doctorate is limited, hence my enthusiastic response to your advertisement." Stupid of you to show how desperate you are for the job I thought.

"How well I understand you, Mr. João. People are made stupid by television, those who appreciate art and beauty are increasingly rare, which is why your thesis on classical beauty patterns in contemporary society, as well as your participation in the exhibition 'The Human Body in Classical Art' - your internship coordinator is a dear friend of mine." I wondered if Professor Carlos had put in a good word for me; if I got the job, I'd have to send him a bottle of Port wine as thanks.

"Thank you, Mr. Pereira, but please don't take this the wrong way - your advertisement wasn't very specific. Could you tell me what my duties would be?" He stood up and I followed suit.

"You're right. Let me show you what your tasks would be." We went downstairs to a large room with several wooden crates. "This is the evaluation room for pieces sent to us by our clients," he said, showing the collection of boxes and some pieces displayed on a wooden counter covered with a white cloth - two busts and a small alabaster statue.

"Your job, Mr. João, will be to catalogue and evaluate the pieces as well as prepare the auction catalogue. Tell me what you think of the pieces on the table?" It was a test, and I couldn't fail. I observed each piece carefully and in detail.

"These two busts represent Minerva and Aphrodite. The expression, the hair - I'd say the Minerva bust is Italian, 18th century. The goddess's breasts are covered by a tunic; the artist managed to make the fabric transparent, the nipples visible but not exposed." His expression confirmed this was a test.

"As for Aphrodite, it's a beautiful bust, something that would look very good in a salon or garden niche, but I regret to say it's a recent work - as you can see, the hair shows marks from electric tools." I picked up the magnifying glass and invited my future employer to observe. "Moreover, this type of marble isn't produced in Europe, and unlike Minerva, Aphrodite has her breasts exposed. I'd say this piece was produced in China." I commented but received no response.

"And the Victory statue?" he asked.

"This Victory in Alabaster is a remarkable piece from the early 19th century, probably Italian judging by how the wings were sculpted - exquisite work." I carefully placed it back on the table. "If I may ask, was the Aphrodite bust presented as authentic?"

"No, it all came to us as part of an inheritance, but you've done excellent work - the other candidates failed to detect the forgery." Mr. Pereira opened a door and called Teresa, who joined us around the counter.

"Mr. João, what would be your valuation of these pieces?" He asked me.

"The Minerva bust, between €15,000 and €20,000, more if we can identify the artist, but I can't find any identifying marks. The Victory €30,000 - again, it would be more valuable with an associated name, but these types of pieces were made by craftsmen, often master's apprentices. The Aphrodite bust €1,000, €1,500 - if the owner was a famous person, it might add €2,000," I replied, awaiting his validation.

"Very good, but you've forgotten one." I looked at him perplexed. Before I could ask any question, he pointed to Teresa.

"What would be your evaluation of this slave? From an aesthetic point of view, of course." It confirmed what I'd thought when observing the steel collar around the young woman's neck. I'd seen slaves before and even worked with some, but none had Teresa's beauty - in fact, they were all unsightly people with tattoos and expressions that showed their marginal lives.

"I, no... never... what are you asking me to do." I was uncomfortable. I knew that now most criminals chose to serve their sentences as judicial slaves or submit to corporal punishment rather than go to prison. The law had been put to referendum and approved with 82.5% of the votes. I had voted in favor, but I'd never been confronted with a situation like this.

"Now Mr. João, we are an auction house - some of our pieces are made of marble, and others are flesh and blood. You are an excellent connoisseur of works of art, as well as the canons of beauty, surely you can evaluate a woman's physical beauty and give your opinion."

He was right, if Teresa wore a collar around her neck, it was because she had committed a crime, and if anyone could evaluate a woman's physical beauty, that person was me. Still, it was something that made me uncomfortable, but my employer didn't give me time to debate the morality of what I was about to do.

"Teresa, remove your clothes. Mr. João will evaluate you."

Without a word, Teresa unzipped her black dress, which she folded and placed on the counter. I could see her naked body except for her breasts and sex which remained covered by black lingerie. Even these didn't take long to be removed and placed on the counter along with her shoes, stockings, and garter belt.

"Teresa, could you raise your arms please?" I asked. She obeyed in silence. I ran my fingers along her arms, measuring the proportions, from shoulder to elbow, elbow to wrist. Her skin was velvety and soft, but I focused on the measurements, using the technique I had learned for measuring sculptures, with my hand as the unit of measure.

I did the same with her face, the height of the face was exactly double its width. I was impressed by how she remained motionless while I evaluated all parts of her body. Even when I felt her round breasts. They were firm and of almost perfect symmetry. The brownish-pink nipples became brown points amid the white of her skin, responding to the touch of my hands.

"Mr. Pereira, your slave is a perfect woman, her general proportions follow the canons of Renaissance masters, and her face is proportional and with pleasing features." I looked at him and realized he wanted more.

"The skin is uniformly white without spots or imperfections, the black hair is strong and silky, her breasts are symmetrical and firm, natural, the nipples are sensitive and responsive to touch, her sex presents the labia minora completely hidden by the labia majora, which are devoid of pubic hair, these remain only on the mons veneris as a result of an aesthetic choice." I realized this was more in line with what he expected, and continued: "The slave has excellent muscle tone without displaying it and she has never given birth..." He interrupted me.

"A good analysis, but how can you state that she has never been a mother, with such certainty?"

I took a deep breath, could this be a trap? I decided to continue. "For three characteristics: the first and main one is the pronounced arch of her feet which indicates she has never had a weight higher than her current one, about 65kg; then the symmetry and firmness of her breasts; and finally the fact that her vulva shows no scarring and the labia are of perfect size."

He nodded affirmatively. "Excellent analysis, Mr. João. Especially for someone who didn't feel comfortable evaluating people, but now for the most important part for an auction house - what is the piece worth?" What was the piece worth? I didn't know what to say... I was going to fail at the last hurdle... what could I say?

"Mr. Fernando, I regret that I have no notion of Teresa's monetary value. I can only say that from the perspective of physical beauty, Teresa is undoubtedly in the top 1% of all women in the world." I said, now I knew what would follow, "thank you, we'll call you." But of course, I would never receive any call.

"And you have the humility to confess your ignorance, another thing your competitors were unable to do." I breathed in relief. "How could you know the value when I deliberately withheld information, such as the duration of her sentence as well as Teresa's education, and the nature of the crime for which she was condemned." I wanted to ask how one could make such an evaluation but he spoke first.

"João, you're surely wondering how to proceed with evaluating a judicial slave, how we at Prestígio make this evaluation. Come, let's go to my office - I'll be happy to teach you how. Teresa, put on your shoes and return to your duties." I had gotten the job - it wasn't what I expected but it was better than stacking detergent boxes.

Teresa put on her shoes and left the room through the same door, from where the Boss had called her. It was a delight to observe how she walked naked wearing only high heels.

=======

The Boss opened a Brazilian rosewood cabinet and took out a dossier with various documents. Now that I was more comfortable, I began to truly appreciate the refinement and luxury of the office, besides the enormous mahogany desk, it had an ornate Indo-Portuguese writing cabinet, a testament to Portugal's colonial past, and a cabinet made of ebony and Brazilian rosewood. The large window overlooked Amoreiras Square and had a view of the garden.

"Mr. João Ratão, as you must have realized, I was very impressed with your analytical capacity, and also with your intellectual honesty, and I would very much like to have you on our team. Tell me, what do you think would be a fair value for your salary?" What a question! I had expected him to propose a value. I could precisely evaluate everything in the room where we were, but giving myself a value was almost as difficult as it had been to evaluate Teresa's worth. "Mr. Fernando, I think I'm in the same situation as I was with Teresa - I don't have all the information about my concrete work to be able to evaluate my worth. I think it should be a value that includes my technical knowledge, but also the value I would add to the company." I saw a smile of approval.

"An intelligent man, and one who learns from mistakes. Your duties, as I said, will be to evaluate pieces, catalogue them, and take them to auction. In the case of special pieces, you will have to be part of the training and presentation process, basically what you did with Teresa but with all the information."

I would have been more comfortable if I only had to evaluate and catalogue works of art, although Teresa herself was also a work of art. "For your work, as a specialist in aesthetics and art, I am willing to propose..." He took out a fountain pen and wrote a value on a small piece of paper, then continued. "For the value you will bring to the company, 2% on all successfully sold pieces, plus benefits." I opened the small piece of paper, €2,500 was triple what I currently earned.

"Mr. Fernando, I accept, with pleasure. When can I start?" I asked enthusiastically.

"Calm down, my boy. First read and if you agree, sign." He handed me a document with three pages, it was a standard employment contract, it simply stated that I was hired as an art and antiques specialist, the base salary value, the productivity bonus, there was quite an extensive and rigorous confidentiality clause. The benefits section included a company car, credit card, private health insurance, personal assistant for full use - could it be Teresa? I got an hard on, just by thinking about her.

I reread the contract and the confidentiality clause.

"The employee commits to never reveal details about: evaluation processes, preparation methods, origin of pieces, reserve value or final sale price. The identity of buyers as well as any information regarding acquired pieces is strictly confidential. This obligation extends to all business areas of Casa Prestígio and remains even after the termination of employment. Violation of any aspect of this confidentiality clause will result in the immediate return of all earned funds, contract termination, and possible civil and/or criminal consequences. In case third parties are involved, Casa Prestígio reserves the right to take legal action against them."

It had more specific cases and special penalties after that.

A special clause stated that this secrecy included family members, ascendants, descendants, and spouses. I would have to keep it secret even from my parents.

I would have to keep it secret even from my parents. How to explain to my mother what I really did? She would be so proud to see me finally working in my field... but I would have to content myself with saying that I evaluated works of art, without ever being able to mention the other part of the business. "Any problem?" asked Mr. Pereira, noticing my hesitation. "Not being able to tell the family..."

"I understand your concern, but it's absolutely necessary. This business is based on total discretion. Our clients trust us not only with their money but also with their reputation. One wrong word at a family dinner, a careless comment at a Christmas party... we've had situations like that in the past, and the consequences were... unpleasant." I took the pen, and reread the contract one last time. The salary was tempting, the benefits were excellent, and I would finally be able to work in my field. I signed both copies and handed one of them to Mr. Pereira.

"Congratulations, now that you're one of us, I'll show you how you can perform your work with all the information and resources of the century-old Casa Prestígio, but first..." he opened the cabinet and took out a Ferreira Port 1898 and two crystal glasses. "...let's toast to the success of our collaboration, I feel that you will bring us much joy and profits." I watched as he opened the bottle.