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Chapter 35 - Purveyor of Fine Arts
🕑 Added 2025-09-17 19:50:07 +0000 UTCJump City
Question had disappeared into the city to do his own investigation, leaving Miles and Claire to their own devices.
“Any word on what this Arrival means?” With how much her boss knew about the superhero world, she was sure they would be following a lead soon.
Miles handed her a leaflet.
“Arrival Nightclub
Grand Opening
Welcome to a New World.”
The leaflet also included some other information on what the nightclub offered, along with the Mark of Skath, used as the logo, something that people most likely considered a homage to Superman. One other thing on the leaflet was the bold warning that it was invite-only and a partner was necessary.
Claire chuckled. “That was easy.”
“All we need is an invite now.”
“Any idea on how to get it?”
“They are a cult with deep pockets, and there have to be wealthy benefactors who keep these pockets full. Let’s see if Zalika can find anything.”
Opening a nightclub like this without significant financial resources wasn’t possible, and while Jump City was no Metropolis, it still had wealthy elites residing there.
It was just a matter of finding the correct lead.
—
Cassius Korrin was an industrial magnate primarily operating in Jump City, and he had made several transactions that Zalika couldn’t find the end point to. However, she did notice that the security system keeping her from tracking the transactions without revealing herself was the same as the system in the computers recovered from Eddie’s hideout.
The multimillionaire did not leave his penthouse, and there were too many guards, cameras, alarms, and sensors for Miles to even consider infiltration.
But Cassius happened to be an avid collector of rare artifacts.
—
Stealing an artifact and selling it to Cassius would draw too much attention, but a subtler means of getting inside the penthouse had presented itself.
Cassius had an appraiser, a gentleman in his thirties by the name of Percival Dorrel, who had authenticated many pieces for the magnate.
—
Miles knocked on the door to the appraiser’s house. They had scouted the area first to see if Cassius was keeping an eye on the resident, but the coast was clear.
“Mr. Dorrel, may we come in? There is a profitable matter I would like to discuss with you.” Percival’s primary objective was money, and the way to convince him was to offer exactly that.
“How profitable?”
“Very.” Miles answered, opening the briefcase he was carrying to reveal the stacks of hundred-dollar bills inside.
“Welcome.”
—
“I am listening.”
“I am aware you work as an appraiser for Cassius Korrin. He will call you soon for another job. I want you to make an excuse and suggest an acquaintance of yours to handle this work.”
“Mr. Korrin is a valued customer; can you match the price?” Percival wasn’t asking if he could match whatever Cassius paid, but rather, if Miles could offer enough for him to sell out.
Miles held two fingers up. “Two million dollars for your assistance, in cash.”
The offer was impressive enough that Percival sat straighter. “Such an offer is certainly worthy of consideration.”
“Cassius is part of a cult who are kidnapping women for who knows what.” Percival raised an eyebrow. He had seen some shady-looking individuals during his last visit to Cassius Korrin’s penthouse but, as a professional, had not pried into his client’s business.
“Are you trying to appeal to my conscience?” Miles didn’t know whether Percival Dorrel had one or not and didn’t need to know.
“No, but to your common sense. Your client’s time is almost up, meaning your primary source of income is about to be gone. Two million dollars would set you for life.” Certainly, with the Justice League out there, Cassius would soon be arrested if the whole matter with kidnapping women was true.
The logical conclusion was apparent. “Who will this acquaintance of mine be?”
Two million dollars plus his savings and investments would mean an early retirement for Percival.
“A colleague of yours from Metropolis. You two met during the Native Exhibit at the Metropolis History Museum. His name is Theodore Marchand.” Miles didn’t go into too many details since Cassius wasn’t running any illegal enterprises that required him to be so paranoid about security, except being a financial backer of a cult.
Just in time, Percival’s phone rang, and he answered, looking at Miles as he spoke.
“Mr. Korrin, such a pleasure to hear from you. Unfortunately, I had a small accident and won’t be able to come to you, but should you be interested, I can direct you to a colleague of mine, a trustworthy one.” Percival played along as instructed, and Miles could hear Cassius’ well wishes.
“Of course, here is the number.” The appraiser read the number written on the card.
Now that he had finished his part, Percival excused himself to Cassius. “Once again, I am truly sorry for this. I can assure you, it won’t happen again.”
“A pleasure doing business with you.” Miles handed the first suitcase to the gentleman and told Claire to bring the rest of the payment.
“Get the remaining suitcases.”
After the transaction had happened, Miles gave one last piece of advice to the man. “Oh, and Mr. Dorrel? You should leave the city as soon as possible before this matter turns apocalyptic."
—
“Hello?” Miles answered the foreign number from the burner phone he acquired for the plan.
“Am I speaking to Theodore Marchand?” The British accent was unmistakable, and Miles wondered if it was customary for the extremely wealthy individuals to have a British butler.
“Yes, how may I help you?”
“You have been recommended to my employer, Mr. Cassius Korrin, for the appraisal of a piece of antiquity, in the absence of our usual contractor.” Things were going according to the plan now, but just in case, he had Percival tailed in case he had a change of heart.
“Ah yes, Percival did mention the matter to me. If Mr. Cassius intends to requisition my services, I would be honored for the opportunity.”
“Do you work for the same rate as Mr. Dorrel?”
“Indeed.”
“Very well, here is the address…”
—
“Let’s say we got in. How do we interrogate this guy or get him out of the penthouse?” Claire asked, straightening her white skirt suit, only worn for the occasion.
Miles was checking his own attire in the mirror, along with a bag of items necessary for an appraiser, taken from Percival’s residence. “If Cassius disappears, it would draw too much attention, just as interrogating him would do. This requires a bit more finesse than the pawns we have dealt with so far.”
—
Cassius Korrin’s Penthouse
“Mr. Marchand, welcome. Master Cassius is inside; allow me to escort you.” The British butler welcomed them in, and Miles wondered if he should hire the man after Cassius was gone.
“Thank you. This lovely young lady is my assistant; I hope it won’t be a problem.” Percival did not have an assistant, and not having Claire with him would be unpreferable.
The butler did not seem to mind it, once they were searched for any weapons. “Of course not, this way, please.”
—
Cassius’ study was on the second floor, and he was pacing inside, impatient.
“Mr. Korrin, I truly apologize for the situation my colleague has put you in.” Miles was so sincere that Cassius seemed hesitant to make a scene.
The overweight man sighed, gesturing to Miles to sit. “Whatever. Percival didn’t really give details; what was it that stopped him from coming?”
“As far as I understand, it is something private, and I don’t pry into people’s private business.”
Now that elicited a smile from Cassius. “That, I like. Now, let’s see if you are as good as Percival was.”
Taking out a wooden box with a statue inside, Cassius held it out to Miles. Quickly wearing a pair of gloves, he gently took the bronze statue, not because he was playing the appraiser, but because he genuinely recognized the piece.
“My, my. You certainly are a lucky man, Mr. Cassius. You don’t see a Marsyas bound every day.” It was a statue of a satyr bound by Apollo to be tortured, and as far as Miles had learned during his trips over Europe back on his Earth, they were rare.
“Is it the real deal?”
“Most are either in museums or in private collections as family heirlooms. Knowing its origin could help in that regard.” He had gone to great lengths to acquire a Marsyas bound and was familiar with the statue as a result of it.
“It has been acquired in a small treasure hunt.” Meaning an illegal dig site.
“How fortunate. Patinated bronze, with markings consistent with Giambologna’s work, though there were no records of him casting a statue depicting such a grotesque punishment. Tall, slender, and graceful proportions.” Miles had the rare pleasure of closely examining several of the artist's works after greasing the relevant wheels a bit.
“Giambologna loved the Serpentinata pose, and the statue itself is smooth and refined, owing to the man’s mastery as a goldsmith. The grotesque origin of the statue is offset by the serene and courtly face.” Rather than a face twisted in agony, this statue had a serene face, with a body twisting around, as the sculptor loved figures that twisted upward.
Another thing he knew was that Giambologna in his Earth had never cast a statue like this, as they were more focused on divine figures.
Chances are, this was a special statue that only existed in the DC Universe, and not his own.
“So?” Cassius was getting impatient, and Miles loathed the idea of leaving this priceless antique in the fat, greasy hands of a man like him.
But he smiled, in full control of his feelings, as he could always retrieve the statue later on. “This isn’t just rare, Mr. Cassius; this might just be the sole Marsyas-bound cast by Giambologna, which raises its value at least tenfold, somewhere around twelve in low estimates to over twenty in the high end.”
“Huh.” Cassius did not seem to expect it, and Miles wasn’t surprised either. He most likely collected antiques for the monetary value they offered and not the historical importance they carried.
“It will make an excellent addition to your collection. Why, I have several clients who possess Roman marble copies of lost Greek bronzes and would be burning with envy if they saw this.”
Miles, for one, was definitely itching to take the statue, by any means necessary.
The magnate leaned forward, suddenly more interested now that the statue’s price was known to him. “Who would they be?”
Miles shook his head. “I am sure you can understand the need for client privilege, and that I cannot reveal those names to you. One of them is actually going to be in attendance during the grand opening of Arrival, but alas, I heard it is an invitation-only event. I would have loved to introduce you to him otherwise.”
He was a professional after all.
Cassius clapped his meaty hands. “Today is your lucky day, as I happen to be good friends with the owner of Arrival. I can get you an invitation if you can introduce me to this client of yours.”
Acting surprised, Miles thanked the gentleman for the most generous opportunity. “I am sure he would be delighted by the opportunity, as I am.”
“Alright, I’ll have my butler call you when the invitation is ready.” Cassius said while handing the promised amount to Miles.
“Many thanks, Mr. Korrin. It is such a privilege for me to work with men of culture such as you.”
—
“For a second I thought that guy was going to die from a heart attack with how much you buttered him.” Claire gagged. She was sure if that man had burned, he would have gone off like a bomb.
“All part of the plan. I bugged him and got an invitation.” Sleight of hand was truly an underestimated skill.
“Yeah, we just need to find you a client now.”
“No, we just need Cassius to be delayed.” Finding a client would require another invitation, and it was easier to have Cassius never arrive in the opening.
"How did you know so much about that piece?"
"Luck. Giambologna is the extent of my knowledge in the matter. I was just going to make it up as it went."
—
Now that they had a way inside, all that they had to do was to sneak inside and find out what this cult was planning.
He had made arrangements for an anonymous tip to the police that Cassius possessed drugs in his limo on the day of the opening, while his mercenaries would raid the penthouse, disguised as SWAT, to take Cassius’ private collection.
No need to let such a valuable, if small, collection go to waste.
Zalika was on watch duty to keep the cops from realizing something was amiss until it was too late.
—
Returning to the hotel, they found Question waiting for them.
“Found anything interesting?”
“The Arrival is a nightclub with several wealthy benefactors and is about to have its grand opening tomorrow. We found a way in to scout the building and see what this cult has in store. You?”
Question wouldn’t have returned empty-handed.
“They are hunting someone, a girl, but she is elusive. I also discovered this.” He pulled out blueprints from his coat, and in bold letters at the top was the name of the club.
“Building plans? And would you look at that, an underground base.” Now, they had a more transparent target.
“Whatever they are planning, it must be happening there. Several leads on kidnapped women point to the club, but without an inside man, it’s impossible to know what exactly.” Security was unnaturally strong for a mere nightclub, which only fueled Question’s suspicions.
“I’ll tell the Justice League to be on standby, as well as reinforcements. We’ll need all available hands should the worst happen.” Such as the cultists summoning Trigon to Earth.
“What’s the plan now?” Claire did feel kind of useless in this cloak-and-dagger business and was itching to bring retribution to the cultists.
“We sneak Question inside, and the three of us find a way into that underground space. Depending on our findings, we either call the Justice League or the local law enforcement.”
“Good thing this armor turns into a briefcase.”
“Their target—do you know anything about her?” Tracking the girl had proven to be a nightmare, and while he wouldn’t admit it, Question was impressed.
“Raven, Trigon’s daughter.” A cult hunting a girl in Jump City?
There weren’t many names that came to mind.
"If the cultists worship Trigon, why are they hunting his daughter?" Was she a rogue? Or did the cult have a different plan in mind regarding her?
“Because Raven hates her father and is actively trying to stop him from descending on Earth.”
“That’s right.” A voice came out of the shadows before hands created out of darkness slammed three of them to the wall with grunts of pain.
“So how do you know about me?”
Comments
Bogdan Florin
Excellent story. Subbed to support
Jimmy Golden
Can’t wait for more!
Jimmy Golden
Found her!
