High art and shady dealings make good drama

The auction ring is one of the oldest con jobs in the business. Bent auctioneers secretly agree not to bid against one other, then later hold their own private auction in a quiet lounge bar, robbing the owner of the true market value.

In the rarified world of Sotheby's and Christie's, one imagines such small-time crookery would be unthinkable. The art world nevertheless had few illusions about the financial greed driving the two auction houses, which between them control 95 per cent of high-end art sales.

They used to say that the only difference between Sotheby's and Christie's was that Sotheby's were tradesmen trying to be gentlemen and Christies were gentlemen trying to be tradesmen.

This was actually a dig at Alfred Taubman, the major shareholder and former chairman of Sotheby's. Mr Taubman is a self-made real estate tycoon and shopping mall developer from Chicago, who horrified the pretentious aristocrats of the auction rooms with his raw commercialism when he bought the auction company in 1983 as retribution for their snobbish attitude towards him and his wife Judy, a former Israeli beauty queen.

"Selling art has much in common with selling root beer," said Taubman at the time. "People don't need root beer and they don't need to buy a painting, either. We provide them with a sense that it will give them a happier experience." In London, he lectured the staff in Bond Street that their manners would have to improve, then flew back to New York by Concorde and told the US employees the same thing.

Many sophisticates are now taking some satisfaction at seeing the 76-year-old billionaire in the dock at the Federal District Court in lower Manhattan in the most sensational anti-trust trial for years. Since it began four weeks ago, the case has exposed the sordid details of a conspiracy between Sotheby's and Christie's to rob clients by fixing artificially-high commission rates for buyers and sellers of rare art, manuscripts and antiques.

Mr Taubman denies that he connived with his arch rival, Sir Anthony Tennant, the former head of Christie's, to overcharge clients $400 million (€454 million) over six years. The Eton-educated Sir Anthony (71) has chosen to stay in London and cannot be extradited.

So all the attention is on Mr Taubman. Photographers are on hand each morning when he arrives at the courthouse in bespoke pinstripe charcoal suit and blue silk tie, carrying coffee in a plastic cup, and accompanied by no less than eight lawyers, all sporting American flag lapel pins. His wife Judy, a feature at his side in society column pictures, has been conspicuously absent.

The fate of Mr Taubman and possibly of his prestigious auction house whose clients include the House of Windsor, will be decided by a New York jury consisting of a transit employee, a postman, a forklift operator, a teacher, a former prison guard, a deli owner, a restaurateur, a doctor, a structural engineer, a photographer, an advertising designer and a resident of a medical centre.

The Sotheby's proprietor has already paid $156 million compensation from his own personal fortune in an out-of-court settlement, and he could face three years in prison.

But the real hurt is that he has been stitched up by his closest associate, Ms Diana "Dede" Brooks, and by one of Sotheby's most ruthless competitors at Christie's, Mr Christopher "Golden Hamster" Davidge.

A dapper boyish-looking executive with white hair (once blonde, hence the nickname), Mr Davidge ran Christie's operations until he blew the whistle on the scheme and obtained an amnesty for himself and his company. By turning informer for the US Justice Department he could now bring about Sotheby's ruin.

Ms Brooks, the Yale graduate whom Taubman hired in 1983 as chief executive of Sotheby's, had almost a father-daughter relationship with Mr Taubman. But in her defence the glamorous New York socialite testified that she was acting on her boss's instructions when she and Mr Davidge met secretly to screw the clients.

The courtroom drama has all the ingredients of a Hollywood movie. Which is why Sigourney Weaver has been sitting in on the trial. The actress, who played Ripley in the Alien films, will play Dee Dee Brooks in a film of the scandal that will be made by AOL Time Warner for cable TV.

The movie producer and script writer, also daily spectators, will have to make some tough decisions on the great issues which have reverberated through the court room. For example did Mr Taubman once wave a Financial Times with a story of Christie's admission to the price-fixing racket in Ms Brooks's face and warn her: "You'll look good in stripes", as Dee Dee Brooks's lawyer testified. Or did Mr Taubman say jocularly, as his defence claimed: "How do you think I would look in stripes?" If that's what he said, he may find out the answer to his own question quite soon now.