that’s all. No offense,” I said hurriedly, trying not to tense
as the cab wandered back and forth in our lane.
“You asked. That’s where we met.”
The cabbie returned his attention to the road once more,
casually bringing us back on course.
“Were you both bidding on the same painting?”
“No. He offered to back half my bid so I could stay in
the running . . . only it wasn’t a painting. It was more what
you would call literary.”
Now I was getting confused.
“Literary? But I thought you said it was an art auction.”
“It was, but there was an author there who offered to
94 Robert Aspirin
auction off an appearance in his next book. Well, I knew
the author … I had done an interview with him in one of
the ‘zines I publish … so I thought it would be kind of
neat to see how he would do me in print. Anyway, it came
down to two of us, and the bidding got pretty stiff. I thought
I was going to have to drop out.”
“That’s when the financier offered to back your bid?”
“Actually, he made the offer to the other guy first. Lucky
for me the other bidder wanted the appearance for his wife,
so he wouldn’t go along with the deal. That’s when the
Butterfly turned to me.”
“Wait a minute. The Butterfly?”
“That’s what he calls himself. It’s even on his business
cards. Anyway, if he hadn’t come in on the bid, you’d be
spending a couple chapters talking to some guy’s winsome
but sexy wife instead of …”
At that point I was listening with only half an ear as
Edvik prattled on. A financier named Butterfly who backs
cabbies’ bids at auctions. I didn’t have to look at Kalvin to