Auction House

It was scheduled for the second Saturday of every month at the old Skyler farm north of town. The farm had been abandoned, its soil having finally given up. No one went out there. There was no reason to. Except for that night.

The auction itself was invitation only, its suppliers remaining anonymous. Records of each auction lot were kept, but were destroyed soon after the auction concluded for the night. And everyone was always notified the auction was cash only.

But tonight's auction was different. Each person that won an auction lot would also get a car key, their entry to a 2006 Ford Mustang. Thousands of dollars were spent for a chance at the car. But the auctioneer had kept the real key for himself.

It wasn't until the end of the night that they heard the first siren. Within seconds, one cop moved in and had the auctioneer in cuffs, the possessor of stolen property. The Mustang had been taken from Toronto three days earlier. Everything else was the spoils of countless burglaries across the province. The cop, a detective, impounded the car and money, though curiously leaving the auctioneer behind.

When police responded to an anonymous tip half an hour later, they were baffled by reports of a detective having been there before them. A detective none of them had heard of before.