Blood Stones (22 page)

He said, ‘How's business?'

The same question would be asked all over the world, in Amsterdam and Antwerp, in Hatton Garden and Kimberley, in Paris and New York, wherever diamonds were bought and sold the phraseology was the same. So was the answer.

Karakov shrugged. ‘Not bad. Could be better.'

Wasserman smiled and shook his head at him. ‘How many million dollars did you make last year, and you say, not bad, could be better?'

‘And you, eh? What about you? I thought you were retiring, so what brings you and Clara all the way to London for a Board meeting? And what makes you decide suddenly to come over here?'

It was a direct attack but David Wasserman parried it.

‘I was seeing Julius about you. You should be flattered; he only comes to England for the really big problems. And you're a problem!'

‘I'm no problem,' Ivan said. ‘I'm just unhappy. I don't like the way D.E. does business. OK, they screw the little guys, but not me, not Karakov. I'm not taking any more of his goddamned parcels and you can tell Heyderman. The last was a bastard. I won't buy from them on their terms any more!'

‘All right, all right.' Wasserman held up his hand; Ivan was scowling like a dragon across the desk from him. He was getting impossibly autocratic these days. If anyone disagreed with him, he blew up, shouting and ordering them out. David Wassserman wasn't frightened; he had dealt with the late Jan Heyderman in Johannesburg when he was in his eighties, and he hadn't met the man to equal him. That kind of megalomania came in economy packets; Karakov was still only the large size.

‘All right,' he said again, ‘we know you're unhappy. And we want to straighten our problems out. We don't want you going round telling the world you don't get a fair deal from D.E. It's bad for us, and in the end if it hurts us, it'll hurt you. You know what we've done for the industry—'

‘Sure, sure,' Karakov interrupted. ‘Jan Heyderman and Pat Harris created the biggest god-damned monopoly there's ever been, and it's still operating. I know all that.'

‘What could have happened to the industry without the monopoly?' Wasserman countered. He was very serious on this subject. ‘When all the big companies were fighting each other, the price of diamonds fell to a dollar forty per carat. That's what happened before Heyderman and Harris took over. It could happen again.'

‘Balls,' Karakov said. ‘Don't give me that kind of balls, David; I'm an old guy. I know the fairy stories. What do you want from me today, eh? This isn't a social call. You're busy, I'm busy – what is it?'

‘I want you to go easy,' David Wasserman said. ‘We don't want a fight with you. Even though we'll win,' he added. His dark eyes were like stones. ‘Harris has sent one of his best men to see you. He's young, all right, but he's good, and Julius thinks a lot of him. His name is Hastings. He tried to call you the other day, but you couldn't give him an appointment.'

‘Hastings,' Karakov said; for a moment his mind was blank. ‘Ah, I know, some guy calls up my secretary and says he's from Diamond Enterprises, and can he come and see me. I remember now. Hastings, that's the name.'

‘Why not see him?' Wasserman said. ‘I told you, he's young, he's enthusiastic. Julius has given him some points to put forward to you; why the hell can't you be a big man and listen to him? He's all keyed up to meet you. Your name means something in the industry, you know. What have you got to lose?'

‘Why don't you put forward the points?' Karakov asked. ‘Why send this new guy out here?'

‘They want him to cut his teeth,' Wassserman explained. ‘I told you, he's young, he thinks he knows everything.' He chuckled and drew hard on the cigar. ‘He'd learn from you, Ivan … See Hastings, just as a favour to me.'

‘Why the hell should I do you any favour?' Karakov countered.

‘Because we understand each other. Hastings is a nice guy; you'll like him. He's brought his wife over, she's got some kind of title.' He threw in the sop to snobbery as an aside. ‘Think about it, Ivan. Just as a favour. What do you lose?'

‘My time,' Karakov retorted. ‘And that's worth money. If he's waiting around to see me, don't let him hold his breath. You going now?' David had stubbed out the cigar and stood up. He sighed. ‘OK. I got to get back. I'm taking Clara out for lunch.'

Karakov came and embraced him. Business was business, but they were still friends. ‘We should get together for dinner soon. I'll have Laura call Clara and fix a date.'

‘You do that,' Wasserman said. He went down in the lift and stood for a moment on the crowded pavement, looking for a taxi. As he drove back to his hotel, he stared out of the window, frowning. He had failed to soften up Ivan Karakov. He had flattered and even obliquely threatened, but nothing had shaken that steely confidence. It wasn't just Ivan's usual mega ego displaying itself. There was something more. Some thing Karakov had in reserve beyond the deal with Moscow which wasn't even signed, that made him so cocksure. He wasn't going to meet James Hastings. He didn't give a damn that he was Heyderman's personal envoy. David Wasserman felt a sharp twinge of indigestion, a sure barometer of his anxiety.

He hurried up to his suite to talk it through with Clara.

Dick Kruger kissed her.

‘Ruth,' he said, ‘It's been great being together. I wish you'd let me come next weekend. I'm lonely as hell without you.'

‘I'm lonely too,' she told him. ‘But I've got to take a trip to Antwerp and we won't get back till Saturday evening. We wouldn't have any time. I'm sorry, darling, but I can't get out of it. Hastings wants to go and he wants me with him.'

They were at the airport and his flight to London had been called. She urged him gently towards the departure lounge. It had been a great weekend, just as he'd said. They'd made love, gone out to restaurants, come home and made love again, and driven out for a long Sunday-morning walk through the Bois de Boulogne, Dick holding hands with her like a boy in love for the first time. It was touching and she went out of her way to be fond and reassuring in the only mode she knew. She suggested they went back and spent the afternoon in bed. He'd asked her to marry him again; he even had the special licence with him and he showed it to her. That was touching, too, except that Ruth thought she had managed to put him off before she went to Paris, she didn't want to marry him. He would possess her; he was demanding enough when she was still independent. The more she considered it, the more convinced Ruth had become that marriage wouldn't work. Since she'd been separated from him and out of their office routine, she'd been less clear about their future as a couple. She found the European end of the business even more fascinating than the familiar guidelines of Blackfriars Road. Hastings was going to Antwerp to see a consortium of top diamond dealers, but they would fly back on Friday afternoon. Ruth didn't want Kruger coming for the weekend. She wanted time to herself, and there was now another reason for widening the gap between them.

He wasn't a man to keep business secrets from her. They'd been in tandem for too long. He trusted her and shared everything with her, valuing her judgement.

He had told her about the vital information Arthur was holding back about Karakov's sale of the suite of red diamonds. Having dinner together at the Tour d'Argent, made expansive by wonderful food and very good claret, Dick had leaned towards her and elaborated.

‘Andrews is making bloody good headway in Moscow, so why give that shit an advantage when we don't have to? Why hand him anything on a plate?'

Ruth's cat's eyes had gleamed at him; he knew that look of concentration, feline in its stalking intensity.

‘He's selling them on commission for the Russians,' Kruger went on. ‘We've found that out too.'

‘How?' she asked him.

He pulled a face. ‘Don't ask me. Reece has some contact inside the Karakov set-up. He's over in London. He told Arthur, he wanted to know what Hastings was doing about it.'

‘And what did Arthur say?' Her voice was very smooth.

‘What do you think?' He grinned. ‘He said Hastings hadn't made any use of the information so far, but in view of how far Andrews is into negotiations in Moscow, it mightn't matter in the end. Reece'll pass that back to Heyderman. It won't do “wonder boy” any good.'

He signalled the waiter to pour more wine. Ruth refused.

‘You have some. I'm not good on too much alcohol. If Karakov manages to sell these diamonds, that should clinch his claim to be a big enough outlet, shouldn't it? Wouldn't that bring the Russians to the table?'

‘Clever girl, you always get to the crux, don't you?' He was proud of her acumen. ‘Of course it would. They're worth millions from what we hear. Karakov's given them some phoney provenance, but they've been mined in the last two years and he had to re-cut them properly. The Russians didn't have the skills. They made a poor job of it and a lot of the caratage has been wasted, but Jesus, they're still enormous. And unique.'

She said again, ‘How do you know all this? Who's Reece's contact? He must be right on the inside and high up.'

‘And very well paid,' he countered. ‘Reece says he's never been wrong yet. If Andrews does a deal with the Russians and Karakov still hasn't found a buyer, we'll take the jewellery over. We can afford to
buy
them, for Christ's sake, if it's going to clinch the agreement.'

‘Yes,' she agreed. ‘I can see how that works. But isn't it a risk? Holding out on Hastings … supposing Heyderman finds out?'

‘Who's going to tell him? Not Arthur, not me. And if something goes wrong for Andrews, then we'll have to pass it on, we won't have any option. But we're gambling that it won't. I've seen the draft agreement with Moscow and, believe me, it's such a good deal they'd be crazy not to take it. Millions in interest-free loans, money for development, even a commitment to fund the de-pollution of the lake at Baikal! You any idea how big that is? Fifty square miles, one of the biggest inland water masses in the world. They'll sign up with us, don't worry.'

Ruth said slowly, ‘And does Arthur really mean to give them all that? Will Heyderman agree to it?'

He drained his glass of wine. He looked at her. He said, ‘Our company lawyers are drafting it. They know about agreements between us and foreign governments. Arthur's not worried. Now, let's have some of those desserts I see over there. God, isn't the food good?' He had a very sweet tooth; Ruth was always telling him to watch his weight. They hadn't talked about it again and now they were saying goodbye at Charles de Gaulle Airport. He paused for a last embrace. ‘I do love you so, Ruthie,' he said. ‘I'll call you later.'

He looked so forlorn that she said quickly, ‘No, darling, I'll call you.'

As soon as he had gone through into the departure lounge, she ran down to her car and hurried to the office.

Elizabeth had been waiting for him to come home. She had a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator and she had called and cancelled dinner with the Wassermans that evening. Even speaking to Clara didn't bother her; she told the lie and rather enjoyed hearing the old woman's spiteful response.

‘You're sick? Oh, that's too bad. Maybe your husband will come anyway. I guess it's nothing serious …' She had sounded contemptuous, as if she had never cancelled an engagement because of some minor upset stomach. Elizabeth had put the phone down and laughed. She had something in her stomach, if the old bitch only knew it, and it wasn't over-rich food.

She stayed by the window, waiting for his arrival. He used the office car and driver, and when it finally drew up outside, she was in the hallway with the door open.

James came hurrying in, looking anxious. ‘Darling … What's the matter? David was in my office when his wife called. She said you were sick – what is it?'

Elizabeth came and put her arms round his neck and smiled into his face. ‘I am sick,' she said. ‘Especially in the mornings. And I'm going to be, for the next seven months.'

He was so happy there were tears in his eyes. He couldn't take it in. He wanted to hear the details over and over again, holding her close, even placing a proprietary hand on her flat belly as if to convince himself that it was true.

‘Oh Liz, my darling … This is so wonderful.' She had to keep telling him there wasn't any doubt. The doctor had confirmed it, taken a second test for routine confirmation, but only because she had insisted.

‘And you never said a word,' he reproached her. ‘Why didn't you tell me?'

‘Because,' she said, ‘I didn't want you to be disappointed. It has happened so often before, me thinking I felt different and then the bloody monthly coming right on time. Or a few days late. Darling Jamie, I'm just as thrilled for you as I am for myself. And the good news is, I'm healthy and fine; he checked everything. They're amazingly thorough these French doctors, not like at home, where nobody makes a great thing about having a baby. Blood tests, blood pressure, the lot. He did say I shouldn't do too much for the next few weeks as it's a first pregnancy. But that was all. So I rang that old bat and put off dinner tonight. I thought we'd celebrate on our own. The drink's in the fridge. So why don't we start? I'll get the bottle.'

‘Oh no you won't.' He sprang up. ‘You stay there. You're not bending down and lugging bottles …' She laughed at him. He laughed back. It was pure happiness between them. ‘Aren't I the lucky man?' he said softly to her. ‘You just stay put till I come back. I'm going to bully you so you might as well get used to it.'

They finished the champagne over dinner, and settled for the evening into the big comfortable sofa Elizabeth had bought. He held her in the crook of his arm and she nestled close to him.