Diamond Hunters Part 15

They formed a dully glittering pile in the centre of the blotter, in all perhaps five hundred diamonds, yet all of these were dwarfed by one single stone that lay in the centre of the pile, rising out of it the way Mount Everest rises from her foothills.

There are freak diamonds so large or unusual that they become legend. Diamonds who have their own names and whose histories are recorded and invested with romance.

The great "paragons" - stones of the first water whose cut and finished weight exceed one hundred metric carats.

Africa has produced many of them: the Jonker Diamond, a 726-carat rough cut to a brilliant of 125 carats that hangs about the throat of the Queen of Nepal; The Jubilee Diamond, a superb 245-carat cushion of unearthly fire fashioned out of 650-carat rough - then the biggest of them all, a monstrous rough stone of 3,106 carats, the Cullinan which yielded not one, but two paragons. The Great Star of Africa at 530 carats and The Cullinan II at 317 carats. Both these stones grace the Crown jewels of England.

Now on Sergio Caporetti's desk lay a rough stone which would add yet another paragon to the list.

"Have you weighed it?" asked Hugo, and Sergio nodded.

"How much?"

"Three hundred and twenty carats," Sergio said softly.

"Jesus!" whispered Hugo, and Sergio crossed himself quickly to dissociate from the use of names.

Reverently Hugo Kramer leaned forward and picked up the big diarriond. It filled the palm of his hand, the cleavage lane that formed its base was smooth and clean as an axestroke. There were bigger diamonds in history, but this diamond had a special feature which would set it in a niche of its own and endow it with peculiar value.

Its COIOUT was the serene blue of a high summer sky.

This stone could pay half the total bill for Kingfisher's construction if it were ever used for that purpose.

Hugo replaced the blue diamond on the desk and lit a cigarette without taking his eyes from it.

"This field - it is bigger - richer, far richer than we had guessed." Sergio nodded.

"In three days we have taken diamonds that I hoped to see once in five years," Hugo went on as he began picking out the larger diamonds from the pile and laying them in a line across the desktop in approximate order of size, while Sergio opened his desk drawer and took out a box of his special occasion cheroots.

"We must tell the boss, Hugo decided. He began arranging the diamonds in a neat circle about the big blue, thinking deeply. "He must know how rich it is before he talks to Lance. He must make arrangements. He will know what to do - he's a clever one."

"What about these?" Sergio indicated the treasure on the desk. "Are you going to take them off?" Hugo hesitated. "No," he decided. "We could never get rid of this big Blue through the usual channel, it is too big, too distinctive. We will keep it aboard. When the boss takes over the Company again - then we will just declare it all nice and legal. No trouble." He stood up. "Look after them. I must hurry if I am to get a message to Cape Town in time." The Company bears my father's name, Mr. La.r.s.en.

It's as simple as that." Benedict's voice was husky with emotion, and he looked down at his hands. "I have a duty to my father's memory."

"My boy, well-" La.r.s.en came to lay his hand on Benedict's arm.

"Well, I just don't know what to say. Honour is a rare and precious thing these days." With his free hand he was groping almost frantically for the bell on the desk behind him. He must get this signed up solid before the youngster changed his mind.

"I tried to warn you, Mr. La.r.s.en. My father and I never had any faith in this marine recovery scheme. Lance pushed it through-"

"Yes, quite so," La.r.s.en agreed, and turned to his a.s.sistant who came into the office at the trot in response to the bell.

"Ah, Simon. The Van Der Byl Diamond loan. Will you have an agreement made out immediately - Mr. van der Byl will take over the capital amounts, and the outstanding interest as well." By rolling his eyes La.r.s.en tried to convey to his a.s.sistant the deadly urgency of the situation. The young man understood and fifteen minutes later laid the Agreement on La.r.s.en's desk. La.r.s.en unscrewed the cap of his pen and handed it to Benedict.

La.r.s.en and three of his young men Ushered Benedict out through the gla.s.s doors of the batik and across the pavement to where the Rolls stood in the reserved parking bay in Adderley Street.

Benedict settled into the back seat, acknowledged the bank official's farewells, and tapped on the chauffeur's window. As they pulled away, Ruby Lance slipped her hand through his arm and squeezed it.

"Did you get it?" she asked.

Benedict grinned happily. "I frightened five years" growth out of old La.r.s.en. He almost broke his neck in the hurry to give it to me."

"Now you've got it all." Ruby snuggled a little closer to him on the soft leather upholstery. Benedict nodded, and checked his watch.

"The meeting is set for fifteen minutes" time. I'll go up the front way, but I want you to go up in the private lift from the bas.e.m.e.nt garage, and wait in my office. We will be in the Board Room.

I will ring you at the right moment." The Rolls picked its way slowly down around the Heerengracht and double-parked outside the building.

The chauffeur came to open the door, but before he alighted Benedict smiled into Ruby's face.

"This will be one of the high moments of my life," he said softly.

"This time I've got the b.a.s.t.a.r.d cold." "I'll be waiting for You," Ruby said, and he climbed out of the Rolls. He waited until it had turned into the entrance ramp of the bas.e.m.e.nt garage, then he crossed the pavement into the main lobby of the skysc.r.a.per. He strode to the elevator with long eager strides, and his mouth kept pulling into a small excited smile.

The Board Room was set high, and the picture windows looked up at the great squat mountain, whose sheer cliffs dropped directly to the wooded slopes up which the first buildings of the city straggled.

Johnny Lance stood at the head of the table. He had lost weight in the last few days, so that his shoulders appeared bony and gaunt under the white silk shirt. He had discarded his jacket, and pulled the knot of his tie down an inch. The bones of his cheeks and jaw made harsh angles that were accentuated and not softened by the deep shades of fatigue that darkened his eyes. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets, and he spoke without reference to the sheaf of paper that lay on the table before him.

"Our working costs are as close as dammit to a hundred pounds an hour; right Mike?" And Michael Shapiro nodded.

"Well, we worked the Suicide main gully for sixty-six hours, and we recovered a princely 200 carats of the lousiest pile of junk I've ever seen. If we get a thousand quid for the lot we'll be doing well.

This for an expenditure of six and a half thousand." Johnny paused, and looked around the table. Michael Shapiro was doodling on his note pad with fierce concentration, Tracey van der Byl was pale, her eyes never left Johnny's face and her expression ached with pity and helpless compa.s.sion; Benedict van der Byl was looking out of the window at the mountain, he was slumped comfortably in his chair, smiling a little and listening politely.

"The Suicide main gully is one of the five most likely parts of the entire concession. It's no good, so the rest of the field may be useless. We have the two other concessions, the original fields, to try. However, it will take three or four days to get Kingfisher moved up the coast." Johnny paused, and Benedict swivelled his chair, still with the small smile on his lips.

"The interest payments fall due on the 30th - three days" time.

Where are you going to find one hundred and fifty thousand Rand?"

"Yes," Johnny nodded. "I think I can persuade La.r.s.en to extend for a few weeks; he will b.l.o.o.d.y well have to if he wants to protect his.-" "Hold on," Benedict murmured. "La.r.s.en has got nothing to do with it."

Johnny was silent, watching him warily. "Explain," he invited.

"I've taken over the loan from La.r.s.en," Benedict told him. "I'm not interested in extending."

"La.r.s.en wouldn't have negotiated without warning me." Johnny was stricken, his disclaimer was wrung from him in pain.

"Shapiro?" Benedict turned to Michael Shapiro for confirmation.

"Sorry, Johnny. It's true. I've seen the doc.u.ments."

"Thanks, Michael." Johnny's voice was bitter with accusations. "Thanks for letting me know."

"He showed me a few minutes before the meeting, Johnny. I swear I didn't know." Michael's expression was distressed.

"Right." Benedict straightened up in his chair, his voice was brisk. "Let's get down to first principles. You've ruined my father's Company, Lance - but, thank G.o.d, I may be able to retrieve the situation. all it sentiment or what you like, but I want your shares and yours." He turned to Tracey and nodded at her.

"No," said Tracey sharply.

"Right." Benedict smiled at her. "Then I'm going to hammer Johnny Lance for his full obligations. That way I get the Company anyway, but I'll make d.a.m.n sure he remains an unrehabilitated bankrupt for the rest of his life." Tracey lifted her hand to her throat, and turned her eyes to Johnny. Waiting for him to set a lead. There was a long stark silence, then Johnny Lance dropped his eyes.

"I've still got three days." His voice was gruff and tired.

"Three days you have." Benedict grinned coldly. "And you're welcome to them." Johnny picked up his papers and put them under one arm; he took his jacket off the back of the chair and swung it over his shoulder.

"Wait," ordered Benedict.

"What for?" Johnny's grin was twisted. "You've had your fun."

Benedict lifted the receiver of the telephone on the table and dialled swiftly.

"Come through, please, darling." He spoke into the mouthpiece and smiled at Johnny as he hung up. Then as the door opened he went to meet Ruby Lance, and kissed her on the mouth. The two of them stood, arm in arm, and looked at Johnny.

"The Company is not the only thing I've taken from you, , Benedict said softly.

"I want a divorce." Ruby looked steadily into Johnny's face.

"Benedict and I are going to get married." They were all watching Johnny, and they saw him flinch.

He looked from one face to the other, then his mouth tightened and his forehead furrowed.

Tracey saw his anger mounting, and her eyes flicked to Benedict's face. He was leaning forward expectantly, his lips quivering with expectation, his eyes alight with triumph.

Tracey wanted to scream out a warning to Johnny, stop him falling into the trap that Benedict had set so carefully.

Johnny took a pace forward, coming up on to the b.a.l.l.s of his feet.

He was about to make his defeat total and ineradicable. Then Benedict spoiled it for himself, he goaded once more.

"Game, set and match, Johnny Lance," he crowed.

The effort of will that Johnny made to recover his reason was not shown on his face, he made the step forward seem natural and he continued towards the door.

"The house is in your name, of course, Ruby, so would you please send my things down to the Tulbagh Hotel," he asked quietly.

He stopped in front of the couple and spoke to Ruby.

"You'll want to protect your reputation, of course, so I'll not sue for adultery. We'll call it desertion."

"You're eating your guts out," jeered Benedict. "Lance can't keep his woman. Van der Byl took her away from him.

Go on, sue for adultery - let the world hear it."

"As you wish,"Johnny agreed.

And he walked out of the Board Room to the elevators.

Johnny flopped on to the bed fully dressed, and rubbed his closed eyes with his fingertips. He felt confused and off-balance, the edge of his mind which usually slashed quickly and incisively through a problem was dulled.

This problem was so multiplied and tangled that he felt like a man in a thicket of African ebony trying to cut his way out with a blunt machete.

Without opening his eyes he groped for the telephone, and the girl on the hotel switchboard downstairs answered.

He gave her a number in Kimberley.

"Person to person, Mr. Ralph Ellison."

"Fifteen minutes delay, Mr. Lance" the girl told him.

"Okay,"Johnny replied. "Ask room service to send me up a Chivas Regal and soda." He suddenly needed liquor, something to dull the pain.

"Make that a double, honey no, make it two doubles." He had drained both gla.s.ses by the time his Kimberley call came through.

"Ralph?"Johnny spoke into the receiver.

"Johnny, how nice of you to call." There was an echo like distant laughter beneath those cool amba.s.sadorial tones in Ralph Ellison's voice and Johnny knew instantly that the word was out. d.a.m.n it, he was slow of course Benedict would have blocked him.

"Are you still interested in a deal on the Thunderbolt and Suicide Concession?" Johnny loosed a despairing longrange shot.

(("Of course, you know we are always interested," Ralph replied.

"The price is two million." Johnny lost interest and lay back on the bed, closing his eyes again. He knew Ralph was having his revenge - you didn't take this boy to court and win without sowing yourself a minefield to retreat over.

"Two million," Ralph murmured. "Now that's a little high for a field that's yielding 200 carats of small industrial diamonds per 10,000 loads, that's definitely on the high side. Of course we wouldn't want that battleship of yours either - we are not starting our own navy." Ralph chuckled juicily. "We could talk around fifty to a hundred grand - no more than that, Johnny."

"Okay, Ralph." Johnny spoke wearily. "Thanks all the same. We'll have a drink together sometime."

"Any time, Johnny," Ralph agreed. "Any time at all. You call me."

Johnny dropped the receiver back on its hook and looked at the ceiling.

He had heard that a gunshot wound was numb at first - he felt numb now. All that energy had seeped out of him, he had lost direction.

The telephone shrilled and he picked it up. The girl on the switchboard asked politely: "Are you finished, Mr. Lance?" "Yes," said Johnny. "You might say that."

"Is there anything else you require?"

The girl sounded puzzled.

"Yes, honey, send up the hemlock."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Two more big fat whiskies, please." He drank them in the bath, and while he dried himself the doorbell tinkled. He wound the bath towel round his waist and went through to open the door.

Tracey stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.