Chocolate Diamonds (Jill Quint, MD, Forensic Pathologist Series Book 2)

by Peche, Alec

  “I’ll go and join Nathan at the other table so we can both work in silence,” announced Jo. With papers in hand, she stood to join Nathan at the other table. “Why don’t you all have another beer; give me and Nathan a few minutes to puzzle over our respective documents, then hopefully we’ll have the answers to discuss over dinner.”

  “Okay, what else can we work on? Nathan and Jo have their assignments,” Jill noted. “What else don’t we know?”

  “We don’t know much about the cousin, Chloe Martin.”

  “We don’t know why she wanted to speak with us. We don’t know the significance of the flat reimbursement rate for her heists; we don’t know who sat Laura up in the hospital or how they knew that would kill her.”

  “We don’t know why she was receiving payments from the consortium; we don’t know who poisoned her or who she was meeting for dinner that night.”

  Angela and Nick tossed out questions that Jill wrote on a napkin.

  Marie had been mulling over thoughts and added, “Somehow, all roads lead back to the consortium and Laura. I really wish we could have spoken to Chloe to get her take on the situation. Did she want the disk back because of the data on it or because she thought there was something on the disk that would involve her?”

  Just then Nathan reclaimed his seat at the table. As he sat down he said, “I think we should order dinner to make sure we have enough time to eat before we have to return to Interpol.”

  “Did you break the code around the initials?” asked Jill.

  “Of course. I’ll explain after we order dinner. I want to make sure we have enough time to eat,” Nathan gently but firmly repeated.

  Jill understood that Nathan wasn’t going to reveal his information until they had all ordered. She recognized that he knew from past experience that when she was deep in thought on a case, she did a poor job accounting for meal-times. If he didn’t override her, they would all starve.

  She glanced over at Jo, who was making notations on a napkin. Jill did not want to interrupt her train of thought, but perhaps if they handed her a menu, she could order her meal, then go back to her analysis. Nathan translated the French menu for Jo and she made her choice. She indicated that she needed another few minutes and she would be done. With a little help from Nathan and Nick, the other three made their choices as well. None of the women had much experience with French food, so dinner promised to be an adventure.

  “Okay, Nathan, my curiosity is killing me.” Jill demanded, “What is the meaning of the initials?"

  “It was actually very simple. The initials represent the first letter of the diamond company name, and the first letter of the CEO’s last name. So the set of six initials either represents the six members of the diamond consortium, or it is a huge coincidence.”

  “So she attributed each job to a consortium CEO,” Marie mused. “Did that reflect who she stole from or who ordered the theft?”

  “I would've thought the initials represented who she stole from. It really taints her legacy if she was stealing at the direction of the consortium members,” Angela remarked. “Forget her label of Robin Hood.”

  “We need to find out more about some of these thefts,” Marie said. “We know that the thefts occurred in many retail jewelry stores. I wonder if they were company-owned stores? We also know from Interpol that some of the thefts were from private owners – are they on the list with initials assigned to them? Did they have the same flat percentage for the sale?”

  “I want to know how you steal a chandelier or a ball gown,” Angela announced. “No matter how good a thief is with sleight-of-hand, you can’t fit either of those items inside your pocket, or even in a large purse. What was her strategy in those thefts?”

  Jo appeared to have finished her analysis of the charity since she rejoined the group, her note-filled sheet of paper in hand. Overhearing Angela’s questions, she added her own curiosity about stealing those large items.

  “Good question, Angela. I didn’t learn the answer to that question during my analysis, but I did learn that she had a well-run charity. These statements are in euros and I don’t have a sense of how far a euro goes in the regions of these diamond mines. From what I can see, the administrative costs are minimal. I’ve looked at the accounting records of several U.S. charities over the years, so I have some experience in this area. Laura has paid staff in these mine regions that operate her programs. Given the size of the mines, each mine is treated as a separate service area. She started with one mine and expanded to the additional five mines within five years.

  “Like we noted earlier, she began with education and expanded to healthcare and housing. In the last couple of years, she started providing micro-loans to miners with a desire to start a small business. About 70 percent of those loans have been paid back. I think that is a pretty good payback scheme in less than three years. She is supporting some great entrepreneurs. In each of the five mines, she provided about 75 percent of the funding to the charity, the other 25 percent coming from sources around the world. The charity fund has been growing at about 10 percent a year, due to increased funding from Laura as well as worldwide donations, and through its investment strategies. Like I said, it was a very successful operation. I want to look at the public website for those charities and take a look at their annual reports. I would also like to know if Laura has a trust that will disburse whatever remaining money she has to those charities. They are not likely to survive without her patronage going forward. That is the trouble with such a disproportionally large source of funding of a charity.”

  “Does she support the miners in Russia with her charity?” asked Angela. “I thought there were six mines?”

  “I can’t find any record of support for the Russian miners,” replied Jo, and then she speculated, “Perhaps it was because she knew their supply of diamonds would dry up thus eliminating the work for the miners, or maybe it was too hard to operate a charity in Russia.”

  “Let’s add that to our list for our discussion later with Interpol – the location of a will or trust for Laura,” Jill asserted. “I can’t imagine that the charity is the cause of Laura's demise. She was their golden goose. I'm back to our speculation about how you steal a chandelier or a ball gown. Nick, do you think that Interpol will have the answer to that question?”

  “Yes, it should be part of any crime-scene description – theories of how the crime was committed.”

  “So we have a few more answers to our questions, but really a lot more questions than answers at this point,” Nathan pointed out. “I think we should move the conversation to the wonderful French food that is about to grace this table. Since I recommended what dishes to order, I feel responsible that you enjoy your food.”

  Picking up their beer mugs, the women and Nicky toasted Nathan on his fine suggestion as their food arrived at the table. Nick and Nathan had wide experience with French food. Jill was an extreme conservative in exploring new foods and spices. Jo, Angela, and Marie couldn't wait to try something new. Outside of weird stuff like bugs, or fish with their eyes looking at the diner, they were willing to try anything.

  “Jill, as our resident expert in boring food, how do you like your beef bourguignon?” Marie asked.

  “Go ahead and make fun of my limited palate! I am very happy with my choice. The beef is delicious and tender, as are the carrots and pasta. It is nicely soaking up the alcohol content of the beer I have had, so my mind is losing it fuzziness. I would order this again, and my thanks to Nathan for knowing my taste.”

  Marie moved on to Nathan’s menu choice, “Nathan how is your confit of duck?”

  “Like Jill’s dish, confit is a traditional French recipe. The difficulty is having the proper preparation and a mixture of spices for the duck. If the chef is a poor to average cook, the duck will have some degree of greasiness to it and the flavor will be bland. This pub has an excellent cook as this might be one of the best duck entrees I have had in my life.”

  “Wow, that is
high praise. My gambos sauvage is very good,” pronounced Marie. “I wasn’t sure what the difference would be between wild French prawns and prawns that I have in the U.S. I had a vision of a prawn in a bikini living the high life in Nice before it was captured and thrown into a cooking pot.”

  “Ugh, a vision like that is driving me towards becoming a vegetarian,” Angela said cringing.

  “Wouldn’t you rather have your prawn living the high life than swimming around in a boring fishery tank?” observed Marie.

  “I can honestly say I have never given it any thought,” replied Angela. “My tarte de jour is splendid. I love the variety of vegetables, and since my mushrooms were also wild, perhaps they lived the high life with your prawn before they were roasted on this tarte.”

  “How many beers have you two had?!” remarked Jill. “Do you realize you are infusing the food with personality?”

  “I think it is more stereotyping,” Angela declared. “Growing up, anything French was larger than life and I am just applying lessons from those cartoons onto my food. I have only had two beers, which is way below my limit.”

  “Nick, Jo, any comments about your food?”

  “I don’t think I can top Marie’s and Angela’s vivid descriptions, so I’ll just say that my meal is delicious,” said Nathan.

  “I concur. Since my plate is empty of food, you know I enjoyed the taste,” said Jo.

  “Dessert anyone? I would be happy to translate anything from the dessert menu,” offered Nick.

  Angela suggested, “Why don’t you just order six spoons and four desserts for the table and we’ll taste them all.”

  “That sounds like a great idea. I like this American idea of sharing dessert.”

  Over fondant au chocolate, tarte tatin, sorbet, and crème brûlée, they savored the incredible desserts that ended a perfect meal. The women declared it the best French meal ever.

  With an eye on the time, Jill said with a sigh, “I guess all good things must come to an end. We are supposed to be back at Interpol headquarters in twenty minutes. Time enough to pay our bill, use the restroom, and walk back to their building.”

  Nick signaled the waiter for the bill. When she returned with the change, Jill asked how many stalls were in the ladies room. The waitress looked a little puzzled by the question, but shrugged and said, “Two.”

  “Anyone else need to visit the restroom?” The other three women nodded in agreement which was no surprise, given the quantity of beer they had.

  Angela and Jill left the table, walking in the direction the waitress had pointed. They opened the door and found a woman washing her hands at the sink and two toilet stalls on their right. They proceeded into the stalls.

  Jill had noticed something familiar about the woman as she entered the stall, and now she thought she knew why. She quickly pulled a scrap a paper from her purse and wrote a note to Angela, which she quietly passed under the wall between the two stalls to Angela. Jill was grateful that there were not floor-to-ceiling walls in this bathroom. The note quickly came back under the stall wall from Angela.

  Jill had written, “Is the woman washing her hands, Laura’s cousin, Chloe Martin?”

  And Angela had returned the note with, “Yes! What now??”.

  Jill passed the note back one more time with, “Let’s confront her.”

  Angela passed the note back with, “Okay, I will.”

  Jill and Angela flushed the toilets and left their stalls at the same time to take up position on either side of Chloe.

  “Are you Chloe Martin?” asked Angela.

  The woman jerked and tried to move away from Angela, only to find her exit blocked. They could see indecision in her eyes. After a few moments, she nodded “yes”.

  “Why are you here? And why did you hire those men to kidnap us?” challenged Angela.

  “I heard you say to your friends that you were heading here before returning to Interpol. I wanted to speak with you.”

  “Why” asked Jill. She was worried about how much time they would have alone with Chloe.

  “I know you tried to save Laura and I wanted to hear about that. I was running late that day and arrived at the restaurant just as the ambulance was leaving.”

  “Why didn’t you try to contact us in a normal manner rather than trying to have us kidnapped for conversation?” demanded Jill, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  “I didn’t know if you had any relationship with the diamond consortium. I needed to discover what relationship, if any, existed before I could understand your actions.”

  “Why would we have a relationship with the diamond consortium?” Angela asked, puzzled.

  “It’s a long story. I don’t have time to discuss this now as you are supposed to return to Interpol shortly. I’ll contact you later,” announced Chloe as she rapidly slipped away from the women and quickly disappeared from the pub out to the street.

  Jill and Angela took a few steps to chase after her and then re-thought that idea. They returned to the table, and they all got up to leave. The others knew something was up but noted a silent signal from Jill and Angela that they would explain outside of the pub. They had no idea who else was listening to their conversations.

  Once out on the street, Jill and Angela looked around for Chloe Martin, but they did not see her in the vicinity. Looking around, they saw that there were no pedestrians within hearing range. They began walking toward the Interpol building.

  Angela started the discussion with, “We met Chloe Martin in the ladies’ room.”

  Nathan, rather used to Jill’s adventures by now, said nothing, while Nick exclaimed, “What?” while giving them a look like he thought maybe he hadn’t heard right.

  “You heard correctly,” confirmed Jill. “We met Chloe in the bathroom.”

  Marie peppered them with a quick volley of questions, “How did she find you there? Did you recognize her? Did you approach her? What was she doing in there? Did she know that you knew who she was?”

  “Okay, don’t laugh, but Angela and I passed a note under the stall’s wall to each other, just like in junior high! We both recognized Chloe Martin standing at the sink touching up her make-up when we walked in.”

  Jo burst out laughing so hard that she had to lean against a building, while she fought to regain her breath and stop laughing. The others just grinned after the stressful day.

  Catching her voice, Jo restated, “You mean you passed paper under the stall walls like teenagers do in middle school?” and she went off in another paroxysm of laughter.

  A little chagrined, Jill declared with some dignity, “I wasn’t sure what else to do and, with a few notes back and forth, Angela and I solidified our game plan.”

  They all had to smile at that vision of an amateur hour of sleuthing. Marie advised “Don’t let the FBI know about your technique, Jill; they might not take you seriously the next time.”

  “When you’re all done laughing, perhaps we can tell you about our actual discussion,” said Angela, trying to bring them back to the point of the conversation.

  “Go ahead, Angela, and tell us about your conversation,” encouraged Nathan. “That should sober us all up.”

  “Actually, it wasn’t much of a conversation since she left the restroom in a hurry. We confirmed her identity and then asked her why she had been attempting to kidnap us. She said she had been on her way to meet Laura for dinner but had been running late. She wanted to talk to us about Laura, but first she wanted to determine our relationship with the consortium. I told her we didn’t have a relationship and then she took off, saying that she knew we had an upcoming appointment with Interpol and she would be in touch.”

  “So the guy holding a knife to me earlier really meant me no harm?” Jo asked. “Good to know in case another one of Chloe’s minions tries to kidnap us.”

  “I think we are over the kidnap attempts from Chloe based on her behavior in the ladies restroom,” concluded Marie. “Of course, that is not to say that
someone else isn’t after us. Did she ask you about the computer chip?”

  “She did not,” answered Jill. “I don’t know if that is because she didn’t know about it or she didn’t have time, or she didn’t trust us because of an alleged relationship to the consortium.”

  “This vacation and this murder investigation continue to get more and more curious!” Marie said. “So what do we say to Interpol? ‘ Hey guys, we met our kidnapper in the restroom and she is really quite nice so we don’t need your help anymore’?”

  “There is still the chip, the consortium, and the charity in Africa. So you still have lots of unanswered questions,” Nick reminded them, and they all nodded in agreement. He worried about their safety, but Nick was also having the time of his life and wouldn’t give up his seat at the table of this mystery.

  Nathan held the door as they entered the Interpol building. They were a few minutes late, but it had really been a wild day. A lot had happened, yet they had still enjoyed the museums, and had some great beer and food. They took the elevator upstairs with an escort from the front desk and were shown into a different conference room than earlier. It was larger and filled with many new faces. Apparently, they were the last to arrive.

  “Let's begin with the introductions of our visitors to Belgium,” said Dubois.

  The six friends introduced themselves and their role thus far in the mysterious death of Laura Peeters. This was followed by introductions of the law enforcement personnel. There were Belgian police officers from Antwerp and Brussels, Dutch police officers from Amsterdam, and Interpol officials from Brussels and, The Hague, and the accountant that Jo had conversed with initially on the phone. She had arrived from Lyon, along with a vice president for Interpol, Europe. Rounding out the group was a representative from the U. S. Consulate. In order to ensure that everyone in the room had equal knowledge about the death of Laura Peeters and the subsequent events and findings, Officer Dubois provided a detailed explanation of the events that began the night the women arrived in Belgium. When he finished, Angela raised her hand.