Chapter 56 I Met the Swedish Beetle
It was early morning, and cold fog from Long Island Sound had swallowed the coastline of Greenwich, Connecticut.
Alistair Blackwood stared at the report in his hand with an exceedingly displeased expression.
[Sterling Selection: 2010 E60 M5 Sold for USD 85,000, Setting a New Auction Record]
“A 2010 M5…”
He was seated in his office on the third floor of the headquarters of Blackwood Inventory, a specialized auction company with an eighty-five-year history.
The office was heavy with the scent of top-grade mahogany and genuine leather. Photographs of his inauguration hung on the wall, alongside those of his great-grandfather and father, marking three generations of succession.
“It seems I’ve been too lenient.”
A cold sneer slipped between his lips.
The oxymoronic label “modern classic,” or modern-day classic, was ridiculous enough, but what irritated him more was Sterling’s method.
At the auction, Sterling Selection had participated not as an intermediary, but as the consignor.
That meant selecting and purchasing a vehicle itself, restoring it, and then placing it on the market.
It was effectively a declaration that Sterling Selection intended to enter the direct-purchase market over which Blackwood Inventory had reigned for decades.
Blackwood Inventory ranked second in the North American auction industry.
Sterling Selection ranked third.
But even though only one position separated them, there was an enormous, unbridgeable gulf between second and third.
Their corporate history, public recognition, and available capital were all on entirely different levels.
The shallower a tree’s roots, the farther it tries to spread its branches.
Alistair sank deeply into his leather chair.
Outside the window, the fog slowly lifted to reveal the magnificent eastern coastline, but his gaze remained fixed solely on the report lying on his desk.
A lion gave its all even when hunting small prey.
The reason the Blackwood family had remained competitive in this harsh industry was not tolerance.
When an opponent began to sprout, one had to overturn the entire flowerpot.
That was his responsibility and duty as the man who had inherited this company, passed down from his great-grandfather.
He pressed the button on the old-fashioned intercom at the corner of his desk.
Beep—
“Yes?”
His secretary’s brief response came through with a vintage electronic tone.
“It seems we need to prepare for a hunt.”
Alistair picked up his fountain pen and drew a thick line through the word “Sterling” printed on the report.
“Mr. Jason Kwon?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
In front of the warehouse at midday, the mail carrier, drenched in sweat, placed a large pile of mail into my hands.
“There’s more.”
Then he returned to the postal vehicle and added another stack of roughly the same size.
“I don’t know what all this is, but it’s impressive. You probably receive more mail than anyone else around here. Well, I’ll be going.”
After the postal vehicle drove away in a small cloud of dust, I dumped the armful of mail onto the workbench.
It had become a regular occurrence ever since the shop’s name appeared in Heritage Classic.
“Restore a Corvette C4 for five thousand dollars.”
“I’ll provide all the parts, but I’ll pay the restoration fee after the car sells.”
Most of the requests came with unrealistic budgets and absurd demands.
More than ninety percent were merely people testing the waters.
Among them, however, was a familiar name.
“…You again, Alex.”
It was a request I had temporarily put aside because it overlapped with the E60 M5 restoration.
I had politely replied that it would take some time, but he apparently was in quite a hurry.
He had sent another request in the meantime, which made this his third.
“Hmm…”
When I opened the letter, it contained yet another restoration request for the same model.
A 1964 Volvo PV544.
Perhaps he thought I had rejected the job because of money, because this time—
Fifteen thousand dollars, excluding parts?
The amount he offered was clearly different.
At this point, I could hardly refuse.
For ordinary commissions, excluding unusual cases such as the Metropolitan and M5, I had received around eight thousand dollars for the previous Studebaker.
That meant my rate had nearly doubled.
Furthermore, offering this much proved that the client named Alex was genuinely serious about entrusting the restoration to me.
I wiped my hands on a towel hanging from the wall and picked up my phone.
It was now well worth hearing him out.
“Yes, this is Alex Carter.”
“Hello, Mr. Carter. My name is Jason Kwon, from Second Life Motors.”
“Oh! O-oh! Just a moment!”
There was a brief commotion and crashing sounds on the other end of the line before everything went quiet.
“Whew. Thank you so much for calling. Does this mean you’ll finally accept the Volvo restoration?”
Alex’s voice was filled with joy and barely contained anticipation.
“I can’t give you a definite answer before seeing the vehicle in person. The same applies to estimating the cost. Would it be all right if I inspect the car first and then discuss it with you?”
“Of course! The car is stored in the basement of my house. When would you be available?”
“I’m available anytime. Even this evening would be fine.”
“Understood. Then how about eight tonight? I’ll send you the address by text.”
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
I was surprised that his voice sounded younger than expected.
Older people normally preferred Volvos this old…
In any case, I hoped the Volvo’s condition matched his desperation.
From the photographs, there did not appear to be any major problems, but I would have to see for myself.
I looked through the stack of Volvo photographs on the table once again, one by one.
Nice house.
The North Central residential district north of Phoenix had a distinctly different atmosphere from the Arizona neighborhoods I normally saw.
Even there, Alex’s house stood out.
It was a modern mansion combining enormous glass walls with exposed concrete.
It even had an underground parking system.
I stopped my truck at the polished entrance to the underground garage and entered the unit number before pressing the call button.
Alex’s voice came through the speaker.
“Jason?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“You arrived exactly on time. Just a moment. I’ll come down immediately!”
The barrier blocking the entrance lifted.
As I drove underground, cool, dry air flowed into the truck.
Just as I finished parking within the marked space, the elevator doors opened and a man hurried toward me.
He appeared to be around forty and wore a neatly pressed shirt over a lean, well-proportioned build.
“Thank you for coming personally, Jason.”
“Hello.”
“This car is extremely precious to me, so I wanted to entrust it to a proper restorer. When I read the magazine article saying there was an expert like you in Arizona, I was overjoyed.”
Speaking excitedly enough to spray saliva, Alex led me to a private garage separately located in one corner of the underground parking area.
A vehicle stood there, carefully wrapped in a silver-gray car cover.
I had seen so many photographs of it that I recognized it from the silhouette alone.
“May I take a look beneath the cover?”
“Yes, of course.”
Alex pulled away the lightly dust-covered sheet, revealing a body painted the clear blue of the sky.
[1964 Volvo PV544]
Its curved roofline and swollen fenders made it difficult to imagine that it belonged to the same brand as modern Volvos.
The design blended the ruggedness and romance of the 1960s with remarkable balance. It resembled Britain’s classic black cabs, though it looked somewhat more compact and sturdy.
“You own a rare car. There aren’t many Volvos from this period left anymore.”
“That’s right. I was fortunate enough to inherit it through the family from my grandfather. People I know are always surprised when I tell them it’s a Volvo.”
That was understandable.
After the mid-1960s, curves began disappearing from Volvo bodies, and by the 1970s, they had become complete bricks—what enthusiasts called “Volvo bricks.”
(Translator’s Note: Volvo Brick — An informal enthusiast term for the boxy, angular styling associated with many Volvo sedans and wagons produced from the 1970s onward.)
By comparison, the vehicle before me, the 1964 Volvo PV544, was so rounded from every angle that it had earned the nickname “Swedish Beetle.”
(Translator’s Note: Swedish Beetle — A nickname for the Volvo PV544 based on its rounded roof and fenders, which visually resemble the German Volkswagen Beetle. The nickname does not indicate a mechanical connection between the two models.)
But its lack of sharp angles did not mean it was weak.
Volvo was already synonymous with safety at the time, and the PV544 in particular had given humanity an enormous gift.
Volvo developed and installed the world’s first three-point seat belt in this model—the same basic seat-belt design still used today.
(Translator’s Note: Volvo Three-Point Safety Belt — Volvo engineer Nils Bohlin developed the modern three-point seat belt, which was introduced as standard equipment in the Volvo PV544 in 1959. Volvo made the patent freely available so other manufacturers could adopt the safety design)
At the same time, the company determined that the technology was too important for human safety to keep proprietary and made the patent freely available.
That fact alone makes Volvo worthy of eternal respect from automobile enthusiasts.
However, it would be a serious mistake to think Volvo was merely a dull brand obsessed with safety.
In Britain’s RAC Rally, the PV544 defeated the dominant Porsche, Mini, and Alfa Romeo teams to win consecutive victories in 1963 and 1964.
(Translator’s Note: RAC Rally — A British road rally first held in 1932 under the organization of the Royal Automobile Club. It later evolved into the Rally of Great Britain and became part of the World Rally Championship.)
And in the Safari Rally, famous as one of the toughest events in the world, rally driver Joginder Singh achieved a legendary victory in a used PV544 that had already traveled forty thousand miles—sixty-four thousand kilometers.
(Translator’s Note: Safari Rally — An East African endurance rally first held in 1953 to commemorate the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. Originally called the East African Coronation Safari, it became famous for extreme distances, rough roads, dust, mud, heat, and mechanical attrition.)
(Translator’s Note:Joginder Singh — A Kenyan rally driver of Punjabi Sikh heritage. With his brother Jaswant Singh as co-driver, he won the 1965 East African Safari Rally in a Volvo PV544 that had already accumulated approximately 40,000 miles, helping establish the car’s reputation for durability.)
“The condition is better in person than in the photographs. That’s actually quite rare…”
According to my appraisal skill, aside from minor oxidation, there was no fatal rust on the panels, and the frame was intact.
The powertrain, including the engine and transmission, had no critical damage either. Aside from inspecting the lubricants, fuel system, and ignition system after its long period of inactivity, there were no severe problems.
There were, however, some flaws in the exterior.
The windshield was completely missing.
And perhaps because the vehicle had rolled over at some point, there was a large depression not only across the front, but also along the driver’s side of the roof.
“The low mileage is probably why. From what I’ve heard, it hasn’t been driven at all since around 1968. It has also been stored indoors the entire time.”
It had not been driven, yet had been carefully preserved ever since his grandfather’s time.
It was an exceptionally rare case.
“Hmm, I see. To give you the conclusion first, restoration should be possible.”
“Oh! Really? Whew, thank you so much.”
Alex ran a hand over his chest and released a relieved sigh.
“Yes. Since it was stored well, the engine and transmission should be reusable after servicing. That will reduce the cost considerably and save a great deal of time.”
“Haha. That’s wonderful news. The truth is, I plan to restore this car and show it to my grandmother. My grandfather passed away a long time ago, and my grandmother’s dementia symptoms have been worsening… I’m afraid it may become too late if I keep putting it off.”
He slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and continued bitterly.
“In any case, approximately how much should I expect the restoration to cost?”
“Hmm… Including the fifteen-thousand-dollar restoration fee you proposed, plus parts and paintwork, I estimate it will cost around twenty-three to twenty-five thousand dollars. Of course, the price could increase if additional parts or work become necessary.”
Alex did not know it, but providing an estimate on-site was normally almost impossible.
If you carelessly quoted a specific figure to a customer and then demanded more after putting the vehicle on a lift, no one would be pleased.
However, thanks to the tremendous advantage of my appraisal skill, I could make a relatively precise diagnosis after only a brief inspection.
As time passed, this fast and accurate on-site estimating ability would undoubtedly become one of my greatest weapons.
“Understood! Then let’s sign the contract immediately.”
After hesitating briefly, Alex took an expensive-looking, thick pen from the pocket of his shirt.
He reviewed the contract I handed him at remarkable speed, then wrote an elegant signature at the bottom.
“Then I’ll leave it in your hands! Sending three letters finally paid off. Hahaha!”
“Thank you. You won’t be disappointed.”
[1964 Volvo PV544]
[1964 Volvo PV544]