"Five hundred grand?"

Mick chuckled. "Well, the sculpture looks Renaissance, and the craftsmanship as well as the material are all ideal. It would sell for up to two million in an auction, while established antique traders like us could offer up to a million. So, why the lowball?"

Bill sighed. "I won't lie—it belonged to my old man, who just croaked this afternoon. But you see, he left a will stating that every antique in the house would be given to my brother… Since he's playing favorites, I thought I had to get something for myself."

"That's why I quietly sneaked this baby out without anyone else knowing and am trying to sell it quickly to change my own circumstances. You don't have to tell me how many millions it's worth—I'm not that greedy. Give me five hundred grand, and it's yours."

Mick shrugged as he shot back, "If it's as you say and your old man intended for your brother to have it, the fact that you sneaked it out here makes this theft. Do you think I'd buy stolen proper