Maurice Trask listened on the telephone, brow furrowed and a nervous drumming of fingers on the desk top. The call had interrupted his morning tea break, a ritual taken at a side table in his office conversation area. Rose Thatcher, long time secretary to Chester Stilton, the previous director and now in service to his replacement, was expected to have this time of the day cleared for Maurice's passion... his tea break. Today, in a mischievous mood, she had put through a call that Maurice was now listening to with growing annoyance.

"I fail to see the importance of this call at this time, surely it could have waited until- for a more- it's only ten o'clock for heaven's sake." His face darkened. "Yes of course the work day begins at eight and yes I am here then." The fingers drummed to a halt and formed a fist. "I will look into it. Now if you will excuse me- when I get an opportunity. Yes, today! Now goodbye." The phone hit the cradle with a crash.

"Is everything all right, sir?" Rose peeked in the office door, eyes wide and innocent.

"That call could have waited."

"Well I couldn't know that, sir. He said it was most urgent. Wasn't it?"

Maurice clenched his lips together and waved her off. Rose closed the door and danced back to her desk, a giggle muffled by her fingers.

****************

"It's Rose on the phone, Gretta." Arny called from the kitchen, taking his turn at last night's dinner dishes. He leaned on the wall with the phone extended lazily from his fingers. When she appeared in the kitchen he gave her one of his looks that said, 'you promised us a vacation after the last job'

"Hi Rose." She stuck her tongue out at Arny. Gretta leaned in his spot as he moved away and listened silently then nodding a couple of times she thanked Rose and hung up.

"Well?" Arny being stern.

"Maurice wants me to drop in for a talk."

"Drop in? For a chat? Gretta, you must think I'm a real dunce."
"Not a real one, lover, just pretend."

"So funny." He humphed and slogged across the kitchen to the table and flopped down. "It's another job isn't it?"

"Honestly, Arny, I don't know. Rose just said he wanted me to come in. With the new mandate for the Congress I can't imagine what it might be. I haven't read or heard of anything going on anywhere that would involve us." She opened the fridge and took out a package of bacon, placed some strips on a paper towel on a plate, covered them and put the plate in the microwave.

"What kind of toast do you want?"

"One of those soft rolls."

They sat quietly at the small table and ate breakfast, both glancing at and away from one another as they chewed.

"Thanks for cleaning up from last night."

"You're welcome; you did make dinner. Did you find out anything about that pen?" Arny asked, trying to change the channel and move on.

"As a matter of fact I did after you fell asleep last night; I figured I might as well do it then instead of today. You up for a history lesson?"

"As soon as I pour the coffee. He took his plate to the sink, turned off the coffee maker and poured two mugs, returning to the table and settling himself.

"Well," Gretta poured some milk in her mug and stirred. "The company was founded in the 19th century as a manufacturer of gold nibs and fountain pens and has been in the same building since 1912. The Italian is, 'Manifattura pennini d'oro e penne stilografiche'."

"Impressive." He knew she loved doing this whole history bit and he prayed it wouldn't last forever.

"I thought you'd like that." She sipped some coffee. "It was originally called ELMO, changing to Montegrappa later in the 20th century. It's on the bank of the Brenta River in Bassano del Grappa. It's in the northern part of Italy, hence the name."

"Good. Good."

"Presumably. Bassano was the site of a number of key battles in the First World War and the soldiers used ELMO pens to write home."

"A captive market." He sulked.

"So to speak. Hemingway used one when he was driving an ambulance at the front. They were very popular." Gretta finished her coffee quickly and rinsed her mug at the sink. "In the thirties the company expanded from just pens to a wide range of goodies. Lighters, cufflinks, watches and other stuff; all a product of the new golden era and a lot of it personalized. They designed the patterns and used materials that were a first with them. Celluloid and galalith became the material of choice for superior pens. They've made a lot of models that are very collectible."

"The Dragon as an example."

"Correct. I can go on if you like."

"Please do, I'm so entranced."

Gretta sat back down at the table and placed a finger on her chin, eyes twinkling mischievously. "Let's see. Victor Emmanuel III and Mussolini signed key documents with Montegrappa pens. Putin received a Dragon pen from Yeltsin when he transferred power back in 2000 and Medvedev, Russia's president, signs all his stuff with a Montegrappa Extra 1930."

"All the nice people use them, eh."

"Don't be cynical, Arny. They have also commemorated a number of pretty impressive events with limited editions. The Americas Cup was one and the La Fenice Opera House in Venice. There were lots of others too like a special series honouring 20th century icons like Ali and Bruce Lee.

"Muhammad Ali?"

"Yep. They have become the premier manufacturer of luxury pens. That is why they are now becoming quite collectible."

"So Jeffrey is now up there with the biggies in collecting."

Well one pen isn't a collection but yeah, it is very valuable and that will only increase. That pen attracted a lot of famous people to collecting. President Sarkozy, Putin, I mentioned earlier, Berlusconi, John Paul II, King Juan Carlos of Spain. King Hussein of Jordan─"

"A lot of royalty."

"You bet; there is also Queen Sirikit of Thailand and the Sultan of Brunei."

"So Jeffrey really is breathing thin air."

"How about breathing the same air as Antonio Banderas, Pacino, Cosby, Michael Jackson... let's see uhm... Stirling Moss, Naomi Campbell. Oh, and Sylvester Stallone is a shareholder and board member."

"Get out."

"Really."

Arny rinsed his own mug and stretched mightily. "That was all very interesting, Gretta but I really just want to know the actual value."

"Oh c'mon, Arny, I spent a lot of effort learning this stuff; let me finish." He sat back down and propped his chin in one hand, waving her on with the other. "Thank you, sir."

She smiled and took a breath. "In November of 2000 the company was acquired by the Richemont Group, a world leader in the field of luxury goods. They ran it for around four years under the aegis of Cartier no less and were eventually taken over by Montblanc. All this consolidation created the perfect atmosphere for an amazing event. In 2009, the Aquila family reacquired Montegrappa, bringing it all back to its original home."

"Who was this Aquila family?"

"I was hoping you'd ask."

"A trap."

"Right. Last of the history lesson, lover." She grinned and leaned toward him. "At the beginning of the 20th century most pens came across from the U.S., nobody in Italy made them. Trouble was there was no after market service and maintenance was a problem. The nibs had to be customized for the client's needs. A couple of guys from Austria, Hoffman and Helm, set up a workshop in Northern Italy making solid 18K gold nibs. With investment money from a local entrepreneur, Alessandro Marzotto, they began producing complete pens and the Elmo was born. They dropped the Elmo and named it Montegrappa after the symbol of Italian patriotism, Mount Grappa, a stronghold in the First World War."

"Didn't answer my question, kid. Aquila?"

"Descendants of Marzotto."

He yawned. I hope there won't be a test; all I wanted to know was the value of the pen really."

"Ungrateful wretch." She sat back and considered him a moment. "Are you ready?"

"For what?"

"The current value of the Monttegrappa."

"Please."

"According to several private sources it could fetch as much as half a million."

"You're kidding!"

"Yes, I am. It was only one source."

Arny'slook was long suffering... very long suffering