Endless by Amanda Gray Page B

all antiquities, it depends on the piece’s condition,” Eben said. “But yes. They tend to be worth quite a lot.”
    Ben looked up. “You think this is Fabergé?”
    “I don’t see Fabergé markings, no. But the similarity in craftsmanship is astonishing. I have little doubt this box, too, comes from Russia sometime in the mid-to late 1800s. And this crown here,” he tapped the crest, “suggests it was a gift from the royal family to someone or indeed might have belonged to them.” He picked the box up, turning it upside down and opening the bottom. Jenny was glad they’d removed the mesmerization instructions. Eben continued. “It is in good working order, but sadly, the condition of the exterior leaves something to be desired.” He again studied the outside of the box with the loupe. “The cracked wood, chipped enamel, and missing rubies will all have an effect on value, I’m afraid. That, plus the missing markings.”
    “So what are we talking?” Ben asked.
    Eben sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking upward at the pressed-tin ceiling. “In the right place at the right time with the right buyer, I would say in the neighborhood of five thousand dollars if we can get any sense of its provenance.”
    “Provenance?” Ben asked.
    “Where it came from. Who it belonged to. Something tangible about its history.”
    Ben sat back in the chair. “Five thousand? That’s all?”
    Eben raised his eyebrows. “That’s a great deal of money for a young man your age.”
    “But not enough,” Ben muttered.
    Jenny wanted to ask him what he meant, but she knew this wasn’t the place.
    They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. “It’s a lovely piece. I’d be happy to purchase it from you.”
    Ben reached out and started rewrapping the box. “I’ll think about it.”
    “How much would you charge to find out more about it?” Jenny asked.
    “As an appraiser I charge a percentage of what a piece turns out to be worth. But I’m curious myself about this. If you’d let me take some pictures, I’d be willing to do some preliminary work gratis.”
    “That would be great,” Jenny said.
    But Ben was still wrapping the box.
    “Ben?”
    “What … ?”
    “We came here to find out more about the box. I think we should let Mr. Wozniak take pictures of it.”
    It was almost as if she’d woken him from some kind of stupor. “Yeah. Sure.”
    Ben removed the music box from the cloth, handing it carefully across the desk. For the next few minutes, Eben photographed the box from every conceivable angle, carefully rewrapping it when he was done.
    “It is always wonderful when you come across a find like this.” There was excitement in his voice, but a little sadness, too. “Most attics have been emptied out, their contents listed on eBay.”
    Jenny reached out a gloved hand. “Thank you, Mr. Wozniak, for seeing us. It was really interesting.”
    “It was just as interesting for me, I assure you.”
    He led them out of the room and into the hallway. When they reached the front door, Eben disengaged the many locks before opening it to the heat of the city.
    Jenny smiled at him. “Well, thanks again.”
    “Yeah, thanks,” Ben muttered.
    They had just stepped onto the pavement when Eben’s voice stopped them.
    “Ben?”
    They turned to face him. “Yeah.”
    “There are many ways to assess value. In a culture bent on selling everything for a profit, sometimes an object, possibly handed down through generations, has another kind of worth.”
    Ben stared at the older man in silence. Jenny wondered if he was going to mouth off or do something stupid and disrespectful. The truth was, she didn’t really know him well enough to take a guess.
    But he didn’t. He just nodded that slow nod Jenny was beginning to recognize as something he did when he was actually considering something instead of blowing it off.
    Ben handed her the box. She slipped it back inside her bag, her nerves smoothing out with the