Free The Collectors Book Two: Full Circle (The Collectors Series 2) by Ron Sewell Page A

girls whose hearts you broke. Wait.”
    “The headmaster’s expecting me.”
    She stood. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” On her return she shuffled a mass of papers into a neat stack. “What are you doing these days?”
    He let out a sigh. “Property management. I buy and rent. Lucrative and boring. Mind you, my brothel in Mayfair is busy.”
    From behind came a gruff voice. “Petros Kyriades, don’t tell lies.”
    “Ah, Headmaster. Did you detect Miss White’s brown eyes sparkle when I mentioned a brothel?”
    “Tut tut. Come, Petros.”
    Petros winked at Miss White, leaving her with a scarlet face. Still grinning, he closed the door to the headmaster’s office, grabbed a chair and sat down.
    Georgiadis opened a file in front of him, studied it, closed it, and leaned back in his chair.
    “I’ve been informed you’re the best in the business, so I won’t stall. Will you recover the bishop’s icons?”
    Petros hesitated before answering. “It depends on many factors. Until I check them out I can’t honestly say yes or no. If nothing else, the cost might be excessive, but my terms are not open to discussion.”
    Georgiadis grimaced. “Petros, as I’ve told you, we don’t have that much money.”
    Petros gave him a stiff smile. “These icons, what are they worth on the open market?”
    He shook his head. “A few are worth a hundred thousand or more. The bishop told me that at least a dozen date back to the sixth century and are priceless. One is believed to contain a fragment of the cross, and according to legend has enabled the blind to see and the lame to walk.”
    Petros brushed his blond hair from his eyes. “The price is six icons of my choosing when I recover them.”
    “Two.”
    Petros considered Georgiadis a brilliant teacher and scholar. Someone who had lived in England for almost forty years, his English faultless. Bookshelves filled with the Greek classics climbed to the ceiling behind him.
    He reached into his jacket pocket, withdrew a piece of paper and pushed it across the desk. “Headmaster, you taught me well and I’ve done my homework. The deal is four icons of my choosing. Sign and be thankful I’m an honest man. My partner will make the final decision.”
    Georgiadis pulled the sheet of paper towards him, read it and signed.
    “Headmaster, please ask Miss White to witness your signature and make two copies. One each for you and the bishop. If he doesn’t like it, I’ll withdraw. One week, Headmaster, and I move on. Have the bishop e-mail me his acceptance. When I receive it I’ll begin to put together a plan.”
    Georgiadis stood and held out his hand.
    Petros grabbed and held it for a moment. “If my partner agrees, the bishop will have his icons.”
    “That I know, Petros. You are a man of your word.”
    ***
    Petros’s BMW glided through the traffic. “Global bloody warming! It’s freezing,” he said to an empty car. He shivered and turned the car heater to full. The clouds tumbling across the sky changed from an insipid white to black. It threatened, and then spewed out its unwelcome load, drenching trees, roads and pavements. The driving rain made the journey a nightmare. The windscreen wipers did little and he slowed to a crawl. In front of him a car slid out of control, spinning towards him. The impact when metal hit metal made him grip the wheel. He sighed when the airbag did not inflate.
    “Shit.”
    A middle-aged woman climbed out of her car holding an umbrella, and peered through his window. “Are you all right?”
    Petros controlled his temper, jumped out and inspected the damage. Other than a small dent, the damage appeared minor. He opened his jacket and from the inside pocket withdrew his wallet. From this, he took a card.
    “My name, address and insurance details, Miss? Would you mind giving me yours, please?”
    “Oh. Yes, of course.” She rummaged in her bag, withdrew a biro and on a till receipt wrote down her particulars.
    Petros took the