Deadly Diamonds (15 page)

The smile was gone from Bunce's lips. He just sat there in thought.

“So, what's the deal? What are you suggesting here?”

Jimbo leaned forward. “Give him some your rough stones to take to Ireland. Make it a test. He'll take his own. You arrange the contacts in Ireland. He can do the deal since they speak English in his village. Maybe better'n me. He bring you back the cash for your stones. He keep the cash for his.”

Bunce continued to look at Bantu. “And what's your take in all this, Jimbo?”

“I take my share from Bantu. We're good on that. I trust him all the way.”

Morty was looking at Bantu with his noncommittal poker face.

“'Nother thing, Morty. Before he go, I teach him everything I
know 'bout this business. He already met the devil a hundred times over. He know to watch his step. So what you think?”

Bunce leaned back in his chair with a searching eye on Bantu for a full ten seconds. Slowly his business grin began creeping across his lips.

“Well, I'll be damned.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was just after dawn three days later when a thirty-foot motor vessel, painted black and flying a Liberian flag, tied up at one end of Government Wharf on the shore of Freetown. Within minutes, a figure approached from one of the open warehouses carrying a single suitcase.

The captain of the vessel raised his hand and said quietly, “Mr. Walker?”

The man nodded and stepped aboard. Lines were cast off, and the vessel moved slowly into open water.

It took three weeks of hugging the coast northward along the west coasts of Africa, Spain, France, and England to reach the rocky west coast of Ireland. It was a pitch-black, drizzling night when the vessel reached the waters a mile off the shore of Achill Island. It anchored at rest while the crew scanned the shore.

Within an hour, a faint light cut through the fog to mark the approach to a quarter-mile expanse of sandy beach. The timing was right to catch a high tide so that the vessel could cruise toward the light to within fifty feet of the shore.

A boat rowed by a man dressed completely in black pulled alongside the vessel to take the passenger ashore. A small van was waiting to drive him through the heather-filled peat bog lands south to the city of Galway.

It was ten in the morning when the van deposited the passenger at the entrance to the Hotel Meyrick in the center of Galway City. The neatly dressed, carefully groomed, gentleman of color was greeted cordially by the host in reception.

“Most welcome, sir. First time in Ireland, is it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And your name, sir?”

“Johnny Walker.”

“Ah, grand. A coincidence. We serve a fine blended Scotch whiskey by that same name. I have your reservation right here.”

Every time Bantu used the name, Johnny Walker, it brought him back to his first meeting with Morty Bunce in Freetown. Among Morty's many misgivings about Bantu, the name stood out.

“Jimbo, none of that Irish crowd are going to pull out their checkbooks for a man with one name—especially if it's ‘Bantu.'”

Jimbo gave a quick scan through Bunce's fine liquor shelf. In an instant, the name, Bantu, disappeared, and Johnny Walker was born.

“We have a fine room with an excellent front view of Eyre Square, Mr. Walker.”

“Thank you. But do you have a room facing the back?”

The receptionist hid his puzzlement at the choice and complied.

“Anything else, sir?”

“Yes. I'd like a second room. Next to the first room. If anyone asks for my room number, you'll please give them the number of the first room. The second will be just between us.”

Without either man looking down, a twenty euro note found its way from Mr. Walker's palm to that of the reception clerk.

“I see no problem, Mr. Walker. If there's anything else?”

“There is. This may seem unusual. May I count on you for a small favor?”

“Most certainly, sir. Discretion is our hallmark.”

Mr. Walker had a few more whispered words with the reception clerk to outline his request. Before he had left Freetown, certain precautions had been worked out by Jimbo and Bunce.

“In ten minutes, I'll be in the dining room. You'll know where to find me.”

“Excellent, Sir.
Bain taitneamh as do bhéil
, as we say. In other words,
bon appetít
.”

Mr. Walker took the lift to the third floor. He found his first room and unpacked his clothes. He left his one suitcase closed but unlocked on the bed. He went to the second room and locked the door between them. He deposited a small leather case in the second room's safe and went back down to the Oyster Bar and Grille.

He took a table at the far end of the dining room and, since it was the crossover hour, he ordered a full Irish breakfast.

Fifteen minutes later, a bellboy brought a note to his table from the reception clerk. Within a few minutes, a tall, well-muscled man in gray slacks and an Irish wool sweater stood in the doorway scanning the people at table in the dining room. He slowly walked among the tables, paying no attention to tables with couples or small children.

When he passed by, Mr. Walker said quietly. “I believe you're looking for me. Sit down, please.”

The Irishman hesitated. He gave the room one more scan for a more likely candidate. Finding none, he sat.

Mr. Walker just nodded to the man across the table. “My name is Johnny Walker. You're expected. Now you have my name. I don't have yours.”

The Irishman grinned. “I doubt it.”

“You doubt what?”

“That I have your real name.”

“Ah, but does it matter? I'm not here to propose marriage. How shall I call you?”

The Irishman leaned closer with a sneer. “Jack. Jack Daniels.”

This time Mr. Walker grinned. He remembered another black bottle with that name on Morty Bunce's liquor shelf.

“That'll do for our purpose, Mr. Daniels. Excuse me.”

He looked up at the bellboy who handed him another note from the reception clerk. He read it and nodded to the bellboy. He looked toward the door and saw a second man dressed in Irish clothing who had taken a table alone by the dining room entrance.

“Ah, now, Mr. Daniels. This is not polite. We should ask your friend to join us.”

“What friend?”

“The one you came here with. The one who seems to be watching us by the door.”

Mr. Walker stood. He easily got the attention of the second Irishman who had been keeping them under surveillance. Mr. Walker smiled and waved to him to join them. The man seemed flustered at the turn of plans. He looked to the first man for orders. Mr. Daniels gave a grudging nod to the second man who silently walked to the table and took a seat.

“Now, gentlemen. As you say, all the cards on the table.” He looked at the second Irishman. “And I suppose your name is Jim Beam.”

The second Irishman was flustered. “It isn't. My name's Paddy—”

“Shut up, Paddy. I'll do the talkin' here.”

Mr. Walker leaned across the table. “Good. Then you do the talking, Mr. Daniels. But before you say a word to me, be kind enough to tell your man Paddy to put it here on the table.”

“What the hell are you talkin' about?”

“You're wasting my time. Just have him take the pouch he stole from the suitcase in my room and put it here on the table.”

Paddy broke in, “I didn't do—”

“Shut up, Paddy. The hell you get off accusing us—”

Mr. Walker lowered his voice to bring down the tone before attention was attracted.

“Mr. Daniels, again, all the cards on the table. You were watched by the hotel staff at my request, Paddy. You asked for my room at the reception desk. One of you came to find me here while the other—that was you, Paddy—went up to my room. You asked the maid to open the door. You told her you forgot your key. At my request, she was told to open the door if she was asked. You were watched while you went through my suitcase and came up with a small leather pouch.”

Neither of the Irishmen spoke.

“We're wasting time. There'll be no trouble. Place it here on the table, Paddy. I have no wish to call hotel security.”

The two Irishmen looked at each other in confusion. Finally, Mr. Daniels
gave the other a scowling nod. The one called Paddy slowly took a small leather case from inside his shirt and put it down in front of Mr. Walker.

Mr. Walker opened the leather case and poured out onto the white linen tablecloth a handful of milky stones the size of rough diamonds.

Mr. Daniels turned his frustration to anger to get some control of a situation that had gone completely against his expectations. “What the hell is this, Walker? This is not a tenth of the number of diamonds we bargained for.”

“No. it isn't, Mr. Daniels. Would you be kind enough to hand me your shoe?”

The frustration was back. “What the hell is this?”

“Right or left. It's no matter. Here, let me have it.”

Daniels slowly removed his left shoe and put it in the outstretched hand of Mr. Walker. Mr. Walker took one of the pieces of diamond and placed it in his white linen napkin. He held the shoe by the toe and hit the napkin a sharp blow with the heel of the shoe. He opened the napkin and poured out fine dust-like particles of crystal.

“It's glass, gentlemen.”

Mr. Walker held up the leather case.

“I suppose if it held as many pieces as you were expecting, you'd have been out the door, and we'd never have had this little chat.”

The two Irishmen looked at each other for some way of responding. They found none.

“It's all right. Just so you know, I'm here to do business. I was warned that I'd be dealing with common thugs and thieves. This little test was set up to send a message to whoever sent you, hopefully someone brighter than either one of you.”

Mr. Walker leaned forward over the table. He reduced his voice to a whisper. “You'll please pass this message to your man in charge. I have what he's looking for. I'm ready to sell for the price that's been arranged. If there is one more trick, I'll be gone and the diamonds with me. Is that clear enough?”

Mr. Daniels stood. He finally got enough of a grip to speak. “You'll be hearin' from us, Walker.”

“If I do, Mr. Daniels, in fact, if I ever see you or Paddy here again, you'll never see one of those stones. You tell your man to contact me directly. He has one more day. No more. He can leave a message with the clerk at the desk. Is that clear?”

They both simply looked with no response.

“One day. No more.”

Mr. Walker spent the afternoon in his second room as a precaution. It was three p.m. when the phone rang. The reception clerk said that a gentleman was asking to speak with him.

“I'll take the call.”

The reception clerk connected the call.

“Mr. Walker, my first word is one of apology. The men you met this morning were not following my orders.”

“And your name is?”

“I'm sorry. I'd rather save that for our first meeting face-to-face. Our business is a bit delicate. I'm sure you understand that.”

“Actually, I understand very little. I came to do business in your country. First you sent two thieves to steal the objects, and now you say they were not under your orders. No offense, but I think that's a lie. Neither of the thugs you sent had the wits to plan a theft. And now you won't share a name. I'm wondering if we can do business.”

There was a pause.

“Mr. Walker, I'll be honest.”

“That would be refreshing. I'm listening.”

“This is our first dealing with each other. I'll be frank. I underestimated you quite badly. It won't happen again. You'll be treated with respect. That said, the people we represent will both make a substantial profit if we can work together. I'm extending my hand, so to speak, for a new beginning.”

“And you'll understand if I take your hand with eyes in every direction.”