“Can you explain this?” One by one, Ryan pushed the pictures closer to Gerel, and one by one, the identical images in the pictures became bigger and bigger, as if they were shot in slow motion. “Why didn’t you tell me you were at the Crystal Palace shortly before Mr. Blackwell was murdered?” Ryan pressed.
Gerel stared at a blown-up profile, partially obscured by the wide brim of a felt hat. The pointed chin, the mole on the left side of her upper lip, the shade of Chanel rouge lipstick—the same as she was wearing now—and tendrils of espresso hair around the neck. There was no denying she was there.
“Gerel, you do understand these pictures put you on the scene very close to the time Mr. Blackwell was murdered. You’re in a very precarious situation. You need to tell me exactly what happened. Otherwise, I will have no choice but to have you extradited to the United States.” Ryan sounded grave. “According to the security camera, you exited the Crystal Palace Hotel lobby at 6:43 p.m. on the day of the murder.”
Gerel opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“Gerel, you can deny you had anything to do with the murder, but it’s hard for the police to believe you. You had cocktails with Mr. Blackwell at the lobby bar, you then went inside his penthouse, you left twenty minutes later, and he turned up dead. Then you happened to forget you were ever in New York City when I interviewed you a few days ago. That means you’ve lied on record to the police.”
Gerel twirled the woolly tassels of the shawl as Ryan’s words twirled in her mind. Somehow she had known she was playing with fire and that sooner or later it would catch up with her, but she’d never planned on Blackwell being dead. She’d expected consequences but not dire consequences like murder. Should she tell the truth, the whole truth? If she did, would she regret and hate herself for the rest of her life? And this Detective Ryan, he sounded grave, but shouldn’t he have arrived with French police to arrest her if he had airtight proof that she was the murderer? No, I’ll go on matching wits with Mr. Wilde for a while. He’s still fishing.
She looked up at Ryan, expecting a pair of penetrating eyes glaring at her sternly but he seemed to be studying her, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle, or just a piece of the whole puzzle. He would take apart whatever she was going to say, piece by piece, but he’d have to put them all back, piece by piece, until they all fit together perfectly. Otherwise, he’d have nothing. He said her rendezvous with Blackwell in New York City put her at the scene of the murder, but what she’d heard on the news was that William Blackwell IV died late at night, and that’s what Ryan said when he was at her studio a few days ago. Obviously, “Detective Wilde” here couldn’t put her at the scene at the time when the murder was committed.
Gerel untangled her fingers from the tassels. She covered one side of her face with her palm and gave an embarrassed sigh. “Very well, Detective, I was with Mr. Blackwell for about forty minutes on the day he was killed. But when I left he was very much alive. I didn’t tell you I made a detour to New York City on my way home to Paris because I was scared when you told me he was dead, I didn’t want to be considered a murder suspect. But I swear I didn’t kill him.”
“What were you there for? It’s got be very important for you to go out of your way to stop in New York City to meet with him for less than an hour.”
“It all started when we were in China, you know, for the return of the Empress Seal. The night before Mr. Blackwell left Beijing, he invited me for a drink at the hotel where we were both staying.” She paused as if waiting for a comment from Ryan. The detective gave her an encouraging nod. “William was in a good mood and I was very happy that day because I’d just discovered who my great-grandmother was, where she was born, where she’d lived, before she was brought to France. My mother used to tell me stories about my great-grandmother. You can imagine how I felt when I was able to confirm that the family stories turned out to be true.”
“I bet you felt you’d discovered your roots,” Ryan said. “Mr. La Croix told me your great-grandmother had something to do with the imperial court.”
Gerel hesitated for a second. “Not really, I was only able to confirm she was indeed born in Beijing but was given up to the missionary house when she was still a baby. Don’t take what André says about my so-called royal lineage seriously, he exaggerates everything for publicity purposes,” Gerel said. At this point, her great-grandmother’s identity was nobody’s business. With the recent media blitz, she wouldn’t be surprised if Ryan already knew the connection between Meigui and the Empress Seal. Letting him know that she, Gerel Garnier, was the descendant of Meigui and Sarnai would draw deeper suspicion from him. The whole situation would turn far messier than it already was. She needed to steer their conversation back to Blackwell. After all, that’s what Ryan was there for.
“We were both in a good mood and got a little carried away. One cocktail turned into several and I told William about what I found out about my great-grandmother.”
“Let me guess, Mr. Blackwell was very happy for you and offered to help advance your career,” Ryan said wryly.
“Not just that.” Gerel gave a how-did-you-know look and carried on. “He told me some secret he said he’d never told anyone else. He said the Empress Seal might’ve gone back to its home in the Forbidden City, but he still had the most valuable part of the seal, the red stone, the face of the seal. He’d kept it.”
“Did he say why?” Ryan detached himself from the comfortable back of the sofa and leaned forward.
“Because it’s not just a red stone, it’s a diamond, a rare raw red diamond, the biggest in the world. For a while I thought he was just joking because he’d had too much to drink.”
“Wasn’t it supposed to be a ruby, a very expensive one? You told me yourself.” Ryan sounded perplexed.
“That’s what I thought, or what William wanted the world to believe. But he somehow knew that the Chinese had no official record of what the face was made of. Besides, nobody used diamonds for seal faces back then, let alone a red diamond. The Chinese seemed to be perfectly happy that the body of the seal was indeed made according to the enamel technology used in late nineteenth century China.”
“So, you think Blackwell switched the stone?”
“He told me that’s why he agreed to have a replica made, cost him a bit of money but compared to the value of the red diamond it was nothing.”
“So, you think the seal in the Forbidden City today has a fake face, a garnet face you created for Blackwell.”
“I guess so. William didn’t get into details. But he did say he intended to sell the diamond soon to an anonymous investor, because as valuable as the stone is, it’s also a curse. He didn’t want the Blackwell name to be associated with something that was considered looted treasure from China. So, he wanted to get his money and be done with it.”
“Did he say how much he was going to sell it for?”
“Almost one hundred million.”
Ryan almost tipped over. “That much? You really think it’s worth that much?”
“Well, as far as I know, the biggest red diamond in the world today is the 5.11 carat Moussaieff Red, cut from a 13.11 carat raw diamond, and it’s one of only three red diamonds in the world. The last time I checked, it was worth twenty million. Just think, the face of the Empress Seal in the shape of a rose, cut from a rough diamond as big as a quail egg. Even if it was cut further to achieve maximum brilliance it could still weigh twice as much as the Moussaieff Red. Besides, on top of its monetary value, the diamond face has political and historical value. Reason and logic seem to go out the window when collectors come across a relic they believe came from the Forbidden City. I’d say those collectors would think one hundred million is a reasonable price.”
“So, it’s likely that before Mr. Blackwell returned the Empress Seal to China, he switched the diamond face and mounted it on the seal you replicated for him. And the killer, or someone else, somehow figured it out. She or he stole the fake seal because it would take to
o much time to remove the diamond, unless of course, he or she is a skilled jeweler.” Ryan shot Gerel an inquisitive look.
“If you think I took the replica from Mr. Blackwell’s condo, you’re wrong, I have no idea what happened to it,” Gerel declared with indignation.
“Did you happen to see it when you visited Mr. Blackwell that day?”
“Of course not. You think Mr. Blackwell would carry such a treasure from London to New York on a whim and leave it out in the open just for show? All he told me was that he kept the priceless red diamond and was thinking about selling it.”
“Assuming what you told me is true, there still leaves the question of why you went to see Mr. Blackwell in New York City.”
Gerel gathered the ends of the shawl again and pulled them around herself. “The night William and I had cocktails in Beijing he pushed the idea of having me design a new line of costume jewelry. He said with the Blackwell name and my recent involvement with the seal, he’d make me the star of jewelry design. He said he’d go back to London first but would be in New York to finish up some business. He invited me to stop by on my way back to Paris so we could talk further about the partnership.” Gerel paused for a second, faint color rising on her face. “I think I’ve told you, Detective, that William was kind of forward. I wasn’t quite comfortable around him. But he sounded reasonable and even sincere that night, so I convinced myself it might not be a bad idea to explore the possibility a bit further. But now, it doesn’t look like it was a good idea after all.”
“No need to feel embarrassed, Gerel. It’s hard to turn down someone like Mr. Blackwell. He was considered one of the world’s wealthiest and most distinguished art patrons. People like that can make a starving artist an overnight sensation. Of course, I don’t mean you’re a starving artist—you’ve already made a name for yourself.” Ryan paused to clear his throat. “Let’s go back to Mr. Blackwell’s plan to sell the red diamond. Did he mention or give any indication that he needed money? We all know he was worth many times the value of the seal.”
Grateful that Ryan wasn’t pressing further on her relationship with Blackwell, Gerel gave a chuckle. “Detective, since when has a man like William ever given anybody the slightest impression that money was an issue for him? William knew everybody thought he had money to burn, but he also wanted the world to see him as a charming old-world aristocrat. ‘Money’ was a vulgar word never to be uttered from his mouth. But he did say he planned to end some of the business ventures he had in New York City because they were consuming too many of his resources.”
“Did he say specifically what ventures?”
“No. The only possible thing I can think of is the W Gallery. William said he helped fund it but he thought it was time for Mr. Walters to take care of his own business. I remember the evening before the ceremony at the Tate Museum I had dinner with William, Mr. Walters, and his companion, Simone. I sensed tension between William and Mr. Walters. They hardly talked to each other.”
“Now that you’ve mentioned it, Gerel, I’d like to know what you think about the relationship between Mr. Blackwell and Mr. Walters.”
“Detective, I don’t think I could be very helpful. I was only with them a few times since Mr. Walters first visited the office. I thought they were very good friends who appreciated the finer things in life, especially fine art. Maybe they were business partners, too,” Gerel said matter-of-factly.
“So, nothing beyond good friends and business partners?”
“What do you mean? Oh, you mean if their relationship was more intimate than just friendship? If it was, I couldn’t tell. I’d always thought Mr. Walters was in a steady relationship with Simone, they’re together almost everywhere they go,” Gerel said, squinting as she recalled the evening that Blackwell had said was supposed to be a double-date with Walters and Simone. But the only highlights of that evening were many awkward moments. She could still feel Simone’s icy stare and Wesley Walters’s cold shoulder.
Ryan didn’t seem to be satisfied with her answer but switched to a different subject. “So let’s go back to your visit to Mr. Blackwell in New York for a minute. What did the two of you talk about? Did you get what he’d promised?”
Irritation flashed across Gerel’s face. What she did could be a giant, stupid mistake, and Ryan seemed to be forcing her to face it squarely, again and again. “I didn’t get anything, just more promises about how he’d spread word about my work among his famous friends. You must think I’m shallow and a hypocrite.”
“Why would you say that?”
“I disliked William as a person. He was arrogant, phony, and narcissistic, and yet I still fooled myself into believing he could be good for my career because of his money. If that doesn’t make me a hypocrite, I don’t know what does.”
“Well, Gerel, I’m not here to pass judgment on your character. Who among us doesn’t have weaknesses? Temptation is hard to resist sometimes. It’s getting dark and I’d better get going.” Ryan gathered the photos into his notebook and zipped it tight. He got up and grabbed his coat off the back of the sofa.
Gerel raised her eyes to look at Ryan who was now standing in front of her. Strangely, she wished Ryan could stay longer. She wished she could share with him what she’d been reading about Sarnai, what she’d discovered in Beijing and the origin of the red diamond, the world’s rarest stone in its natural, rough form. But she quickly pushed that desire to the deepest corner of her heart. She stood and walked Ryan to the front door. “Are you catching the train back to Paris?” she asked.
“No, I’ll be staying at a small bed and breakfast in town here. I’ve wanted to see the Normandy beaches for a long time, since grandpa told me he fought D-Day here. So, I’ll stay overnight and walk around a little before going back to Paris.”
“I can drive you to the hotel,” Gerel offered.
“Thank you, but it’s not that far from here. Besides, I enjoy walking along the quiet beach in solitude. You know I don’t often get the chance to do that where I come from.”
Gerel nodded and pulled open the front door. “Goodbye, Detective.”
“Goodbye, Gerel, and contact me if you think of anything else that could help us solve the case.” Ryan handed Gerel another one of his cards and descended the winding stone steps leading to the beach below.
“Detective!” Gerel called.
He stopped and turned around. “Yes?”
“Nothing, have a good evening.”
Ryan nodded, as if he knew something she didn’t
Chapter 16
Shanghai, three days before the murder
The stone lay flat on her palm. It looked like a medallion, an inch in diameter and half an inch thick.
“It’s a rhodolite garnet stone. Not rare, but for that size it’s worth over ten thousand dollars in today’s market,” said the man from the library reading-nook near the limestone fireplace. He was in his sixties, a bony man with a head of bushy grey hair. He sat stiffly in a plush paisley green lounger. His feet hardly touched the floor, yet he spoke with authority.
But Madam Jinn didn’t seem to hear him. She’d been staring at the five-petal rose etched on the stone, anger smoldering in her heaving chest. After almost a year’s meticulous planning and preparation, she—the queen of treasure scout, the savior of China’s priceless cultural relics—had been duped. The damned stone on her palm, for all its brilliance, was worth nothing to her. A cold laugh cackled in her throat, her fingers curled into a ball, the hard edge of the stone cutting into her skin. With all her might she hurled it at the fireplace. The stone hit the limestone mantel, bounced off, and landed quietly on the thickly carpeted floor.
The man hoisted himself out of the lounger, picked up the stone and held it to the light from the overhead chandelier—no fractures. “You know, this could be the original stone. Large, high quality garnet was very much sought after in Europe back in the nineteenth century. It could’ve been brought over by that priest and then given to Muigai’s mother.
Are you sure . . .”?
“Shut up, I’m not wrong,” Madam Jin hissed, her coal black eyes boring into her brother-in-law’s face. She couldn’t be wrong. It was all recorded in Eunuch Li’s diary.
The palace jeweler did initially think that the stone belonging to the noble consort Meigui was a large garnet. The color was what they called carmine, like dried blood. When the Emperor ordered an Empress Seal for Meigui, he’d also ordered Meigui to hand over the stone so the imperial court jeweler could fashion it into the face of the seal. Eunuch Li ensured the order was carried out, he was privy to the entire process. Cutting and polishing the stone to form the rose-patterned face had made it smaller but revealed a remarkable deep red ruby color. The jeweler had been fascinated by the unusual stone. He consulted an expert gemologist but neither could conclude what exactly the stone was. They knew it was not a garnet, not completely a ruby, but it had the characteristics of a diamond. Eunuch Li’s diary entry said it could be the world’s rarest stone, a red diamond. Nobody in China—even the Emperor, Son of Heaven, who possessed every exotic gemstone he could find—had ever laid eyes on a stone like that until Meigui brought it into the palace.
“You’re supposed to be the most renowned gemologist in China. That piece of junk in your hand, can you honestly say it bears the slightest resemblance of what Eunuch Li described in his diary?” Madam Jin jeered at her brother-in-law.
After placing the stone on a nearby table, China’s highly regarded gemologist moved to the large window overlooking the expansive, manicured garden of his sister-in-law’s English country-style mansion. Night had fallen, myriad of LED lamps cast lights and shadows that grazed the garden. In the distance, a reflecting pool shimmered in the silver light of the moon. Peering out the window, the man seemed to be savoring the peace and quiet, which would be impossible once he was back in the city of Shanghai. A moment later, he turned to face his sister-in-law. “You know, Jin Quan, I know I wouldn’t be where I am today without your help. I think your sister, if she were alive today, would know that and be very grateful to you. But we’ve won in life, we have everything we could possibly ask for. I have to say for the past year, your obsession with this mystery stone, this phantom red diamond, has been all-consuming. It’s bad for your health. And you’re risking the good name you’ve made for yourself. You’ve done so many good things for the country, it’s time to relax and enjoy the fruits of your hard work. Think about it, and of course, whatever you want to do next, I’m always here to help.”
The Face of the Seal Page 19