by MK Schiller
They were both quiet, digesting the revelations. He pressed his lips against her head and held her close.
He remembered the prayer he said as they made their summit bid. I love her, Drew. I love her so much. Keep her safe for me.
Drew had come through.
Thank you, little brother. Thank you for keeping us safe.
Chapter 34
Needing more answers, they searched the four-floor flat for a computer. As it turned out, Liam Montgomery had a plush corner office at the far end of the second floor. He had a subscription service to several libraries and journals as well. Farah, being the scholar she was, had experience with such sites. Tristan placed a second call to his friend to inquire on the password. At least it was a more reasonable hour this time.
They worked quietly, clacking away at various searches. Having written numerous papers at university, she had a more methodical approach than him. He looked up the backgrounds on each climber in their group and went through their social media profiles. They all checked out, their bios matching what they had stated on the trip. He should not have wasted his time. Ahmed would have checked out their backgrounds. He did search after search regarding any climbs of K2 during the 1940s. He could find no references.
“Any luck?” he asked her after an hour.
“Not much.”
“I guess our imaginations are more than sufficient to fill in all the gaps. I mean, what more do we need besides Nazi mountain climbers and pink diamonds?”
“I did searches on the 1940 climb, but there is nothing written about it. I looked for anything on Fritz Ditel. I found a reference to him being an SS officer, but nothing else. We already knew that. But here is something. Pink diamonds exist. Did you know diamonds get their distinctive shade from the elements contained within their carbon structure? Sort of like genetics.”
He scrolled through the article he was reading, searching for keywords. “How does that help us?”
She twirled a strand of hair. “Well, it can give us the possibility of a location where these gems may have been mined. Yellow diamonds have more nitrogen. Blue diamonds contain boron.”
“And pink diamonds?”
She bit her lower lip. “That’s the thing. From everything I’ve read, there are no impurities in pink diamonds. They are an anomaly that science can’t account for yet, which is why they are so rare.”
“Just our luck.”
“But there are theories. One explanation is a seismic shift like an earthquake.”
He picked up a diamond on the plate. “How much do you figure one of these would go for?
“If they are real, it would be impossible for us to tell. I’m seeing prices all over the map.”
“You think they might be fake? We could be spinning all these theories, and these aren’t even real. I’m not a geologist or a man who’s got a lot of knowledge when it comes to diamonds.”
“Me either. But then why are people chasing us? Why is there a hidden compartment in the snow globe?”
“Farah, it’s possible we’re envisioning things. Sort of like how the Specter of Brocken makes you look like a giant. Sometimes the illusion starts to make sense.”
“I don’t think we’re wrong here.”
“Maybe not, but is there a way we can tell for sure? Diamonds cut through glass, right?”
“Yes, but there are other minerals that cut glass too.” She picked up one of the gems and breathed on it. He leaned over her shoulder. “They say if the fogginess clears up in less than three seconds, it’s real.”
“I barely even saw it fog.” He tried again with the same result.
“There are other tests we can do,” she said.
“Is there a way to know their worth or where they might come from?”
“We’d need a jeweler to tell us for sure. One of the articles I read is written by this man who lives here in New York. He’s a geologist, diamond expert, and an historian. He works in the diamond district. Can go see him?”
“And bring our lot of stolen diamonds?”
“We can just bring one. People come to this man to verify the authenticity of their diamonds. We could tell him this is a family heirloom we need appraised. If they are that old, there wouldn’t be any reports of theft, but it is a risk.”
He wasn’t sure if it was a great idea, but he had none of his own. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter 35
Tristan took a long shower and shaved his beard. It had been a while since he’d seen his bare face. He trimmed his hair. He found one of Liam’s suits that fit him well. If he was to play the part of a wealthy Manhattan businessman with his blushing bride on a quest to legitimize a precious family heirloom, he should dress the part. When he stared at the man in the mirror, he thought there was someone his father might be proud of in the reflection.
Either way, the reflection staring back was a stranger.
They’d called down to the front desk. He wasn’t even sure what to ask for, but the doorman knew exactly what he needed. A half hour later, two women with painfully tall high heels swept into the room with a rolling cart full of dresses for Farah along with boxes of makeup and jewelry. Tristan almost keeled over in laughter at the jewelry.
He wished this wasn’t a role they were playing. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to take his girl for a night on the town. He wanted to open the car door for her and pull back the chair at dinner. He wanted to snuggle up with her on the couch and watch crap television. He wanted weekend mountain adventures. And brunch. Yes, the man who lived for adventure wanted to do Sunday brunch…with her.
It wasn’t that he’d changed. He still thirsted for the adventure, but he craved something more now. He craved normal.
He wondered if there was any way their two worlds could join. He called Liam one last time for one last favor.
Tristan headed toward the other bathroom where she was changing and knocked on the door. “Are you ready?”
“Almost,” she said.
“I’ll pack up.”
He’d found an empty velvet box to place the pink diamond they would take to the shop. He gathered the rest, counting them out again as much to confirm none were missing as making sure they were in fact real. He placed them inside a small tin used to house tea bags. He packed up their belongings and cleaned up any signs they’d been here. He wasn’t sure if they would be returning to Liam’s penthouse again. Danger seemed to lay in wait for them everywhere they went.
He turned when he heard the click of heels. Sexy black heels. His gaze traveled up her very long legs. He’d noticed Farah’s beauty straight away, back in that tiny shop in Islamabad. She had a stark real beauty, the kind that made men want to be artists and poets. But now…in a body-hugging royal blue dress, he had no words. She was stunning. Her hair looked longer as it hung in loose, silky strands framing her face. She wore powder and color on her lips. But her eyes. Her eyes blew him away. When the two women had shown up, they had cooed about how gorgeous they were. There was black kohl around them. They looked like jewels themselves.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. She looked down at her dress. “Am I overdressed?”
“Yes, you should take it off. Take it all off.” He took her hand and kissed the back of her wrist. “You’re beautiful, milady.”
She laughed and linked her arms through his. “You clean up well, yourself.”
What he’d give to spend an evening tangling the bed sheets with her until they were both messy again.
Chapter 36
Farah felt in her purse for the small stone. Not the diamond they were bringing. They had placed that in a little box. She felt around for the small rock she had taken from the mountain. She knew he had a similar one in his pocket. She usually held fast to logic, but she needed to believe in the magic of the stones. That they somehow intertwined her and Tristan, and as long as they
had them, they would be able to keep each other safe.
She’d spoken to Ezra Fischer on the phone. At first, he said he was booked until the end of the month. When she explained she was in possession of what she thought was a rare pink diamond, he suddenly had an opening in his busy schedule. She knew they had found the right man. He had a passion for his craft.
Tristan pulled up to a nondescript building. He looked at her, his green eyes bright and intense. “You really think this is going to work? We’re just going to waltz in there with the diamond, and he’s going to tell us what we need to know?”
The valet opened her door. “Can you give us a minute?” she asked.
The man nodded and walked away. She closed her door and turned to Tristan. “Maybe he’ll tell us something useful that will fit the pieces together and confirm some things. I know the man loves what he does for a living, and when you love what you do, you want to impart your knowledge to anyone who will listen.”
“I don’t know, Farah.”
“You’re right. Hey, I’m nervous. Can we talk about something else for a minute?”
“We should get this over with.”
“Just a few minutes, Tristan.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Anything off the subject. What’s your favorite place to go big rock climbing?”
He thought about it for a while. “It all depends. Red River Gorge in Kentucky is beautiful, but you can’t beat Jackson, Wyoming. And also there’s…” He quirked his brow when he caught her expression. He burst out in laughter. “I see what you did there.”
She smiled and signaled for the valet. “Let’s go in now.”
The inside of the store boasted case after case full of brilliant jewels. The carpet was a dark gray, so soft and plush her feet sank into it. Overhead, several large chandeliers twinkled. They were both handed flutes of champagne when they entered. She was glad they had the foresight to dress up. She doubted they would have been allowed within ten feet of this place in their jeans and T-shirts.
“We have an appointment with Mr. Fischer,” Farah explained to the woman who greeted them.
“Of course, you want to have your engagement diamond appraised.”
Tristan choked next to her. She shot him a look. What did he expect? She had to give Mr. Fischer a reasonable story.
“Yes.”
The salesgirl led them into a back room. She smiled widely at Tristan and managed to brush up against his arm several times. She wasn’t the only one. It wasn’t lost on Farah how the other women in the large shop scanned Tristan longer than pleasantries required. She dismissed the childish thoughts. She couldn’t blame them after all. Tristan had a feral masculinity and a boyish charm wrapped up in one delicious package. His too-long burnished-gold hair was combed back tonight, but it still looked unruly, the kind of hair a woman’s fingers were meant to roam through. He filled out Liam’s suit beautifully. Her mouth went dry just staring at him.
Mr. Fischer was an older gentleman with a full black and gray beard. When he shook her hand, her whole body rattled.
“Ms. Nawas, please have a seat.”
“Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice.”
“To get a chance to analyze a pink diamond…well, that privilege is all mine.” He reached his hand out toward Tristan. “This must be your groom?”
“Yes, I’m the groom. Tristan.” Ezra leaned in as if waiting for something. “Sorry, Tristan Sinclair.”
Farah chided herself for not realizing they needed to come up with fake names. Maybe she should have read more mysteries and fewer historical novels. If you wanted to know how a haberdashery worked, she was your girl. But she was definitely not cut out for this intrigue and espionage. Next to this, scaling a mountain seemed easier.
They each took one of the antique Spider Back chairs next to a long mahogany table. The table contained several lamps and long metal boxes with under-lit squares. Ezra Fischer rolled up his sleeves. A gold Rolex glinted on his wrist, even in the low light. “That is a lovely dress, Ms. Nawaz.”
“Call me Farah, please. Thank you for the compliment. I imagine it’s somewhere close to Tavernier blue?”
Ezra’s brown eyes twinkled as he smiled. “Indeed, I do believe you’ve gotten the shade correct.”
Tristan looked at each of them, the confusion evident on his face. “Could someone point me in the right direction before I get too lost in this conversation?”
Farah smiled. “Tavernier was the man who brought the Hope Diamond from India to France. They named the shade of blue after him.”
“That’s quite right.”
“Our diamond is nowhere in the vicinity of the Hope. Yet, I do believe you may find some historical significance.”
“I’m definitely intrigued.” Mr. Fischer searched through a drawer and took out several instruments. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and clapped his hands. “May I see it, please?”
She slid the box over to him. Ezra lifted the diamond with a pair of tweezers. He placed it under the light and examined it with a microscope. He placed it back on the table. His mouth gaped for one brief second before he snapped it shut. “Excuse me for one second. I want to get another tool.”
“What if he’s calling the police?” she asked when they were alone.
“He isn’t. That wasn’t the look of a man who suspects wrongdoing.”
“Then what?”
“He’s intrigued.”
“By the diamond?”
“Yes, and by you too. Can’t blame him there.” Tristan squeezed Farah’s hand, his tilted smile bordering on accusatory.
“What?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“You’re quite charming. Do you know that?”
“Just trying to be friendly.”
“Well, when we’re married, I’m laying down some rules.”
She chuckled. “That’s what you think.”
Ezra returned. On the outside, Farah tried to act like a newly engaged woman, but on the inside her heart thumped wildly.
“Ms. Nawas, you told me on the phone this was a family heirloom of your fiancé’s family.” He turned toward Tristan. “Can you give me any more history?”
Tristan shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. “It’s been passed down for generations. My family hailed from Germany.”
“Your name is Sinclair?”
“Yes…the… The diamond hails from my mother’s side.”
Tristan Sinclair may have been many wonderful things, but she’d seen dolls give better performances. She prayed Ezra didn’t grow suspicious. Luckily, he seemed transfixed by the diamond suspended between his tweezers. “What year did they purchase it?”
“It would have come into the family around 1940.”
“I see.”
“What can you tell us about it?” Tristan asked.
“It’s definitely real and old. Too old to have any coding. The clarity is flawless. I’m assuming you know how rare pink diamonds are?”
“I’ve heard.”
“It makes them quite valuable. May I ask why you’ve never had this appraised?”
“My mother was concerned about its…origins.”
Farah stopped herself from exhaling. Tristan may not have been an actor, but he could improvise well.
“I see.” Ezra set the diamond down. “They didn’t have too many sales recorded in Germany at that time so it’s difficult to pinpoint.”
“Why not?” Tristan asked.
“Hitler confiscated any valuables for the war effort. In those days, the only other buyers of diamonds hailed from America. They had the means and weren’t in the war yet. Of course, even those diamonds came through Europe.”
“How so?” Farah asked.
“If you wanted a diamond cut and polished correctly, you sent it
through a small city in Belgium called Antwerp. The Jews there had passed down the skillset from father to son. It’s one of the reasons Hitler didn’t invade Antwerp until close to the end of the war. He needed them to polish and preserve his diamonds.”
Tristan adjusted his tie. “You believe this diamond was stolen by Hitler?”
“I do.”
“Could this diamond be stolen from the Jews?” Farah asked.
“No, dear, if that was the case, you would not be leaving here with the diamond since they would legally belong to Israel. As I said, Antwerp was a clearing ground for gems. They came from all over the world there. Chances were, if you wanted to buy, sell, cut, or polish a diamond during that time, it came through Antwerp.”
“But it’s impossible to figure out where it originated from since the records don’t exist,” Farah said.
“On the contrary, young lady. I said there weren’t records of sales. But the diamond cutters of Antwerp kept immaculate records of the diamonds that came into their possession. When the SS invaded, they also maintained records of all their confiscated goods. Miraculously, most of the Antwerp records survived the war.” He tapped his finger against his lips and took off his glasses. He stood and ambled over to a long book shelf. “I’ve always been interested in the history of gemstones. They’ve been at the root of wars and love affairs since the beginning of time.” He turned back to them. “I’m not referring to the plot of Titanic either.”
He reached for a huge book with leather binding and yellowing pages. It landed on the mahogany table with a thump. Ezra turned the pages until he found what he was looking for. It was a picture of a letter written in German. “This is a Nazi manifest of items recovered during the invasion of Antwerp. They list the diamonds, the carats, and batches. None of it would be especially interesting except for one description. Seventy-three pink diamonds, about five carats each. Perhaps the largest cache of pink diamonds ever recorded.”
Tristan leaned forward. “Sir, did you say seventy-three?”