Chapter 41

Powell handed him information, saying wryly, “Who knew a bottle of wine could be worth that much.”

Dirk had to agree. One was a 1945 Chateau Mouton-Rothschild valued at forty-seven thousand dollars. The other was a 1990 Romanee-Conti DRC that had been auctioned off by Sotheby’s, London, for twenty-eight thousand.

“I’ll get the team together and we’ll go from there. Is there a deadline?”

“No. He, the client, wants them whenever I can get them to him. Of course sooner is better, as always, but I suspect he understands it won’t be easy for you to get your hands on them.”

* * * *

“So that’s what we’re after,” Dirk said, looking at the rest of the team.

Maverick was sitting in one of the armchairs, with Lucky lying calmly at his feet, his eyes fixed on Dirk at the moment. Tripp and Fey were at either end of the sofa, while Dirk sat at the desk, the laptop turned on and ready to be used.

“Not exactly something we can stick in our pockets and walk out with,” Maverick said.