Eye of the God (13 page)

“Pray tell, Monsieur Tavernier, how could a man such as yourself, obviously of European descent, escape India without suspicion?”

For a moment Tavernier's thoughts drifted back to Rai Rao and his short imprisonment in the sultan's dungeon. “Suspicion is one thing, detection is another.”

The king appeared quite pleased. “Ah, intrigue. Do continue.”

“For many years my liaison in Golconda was a man named Mir Jumla. Officially he was prime minister. Unofficially he acted as a small-time diamond smuggler. Those individuals with fewer scruples than myself were known to approach him with jewels that far exceeded the sultan's requirements for sale. Jumla would then purchase those jewels for a measly sum only to resell them later for an exorbitant profit. It was not my concern how he acquired the diamonds or what he paid for them.”

“And this Mir Jumla is still in Golconda?”

Tavernier shook his head. “Two years after I made my final purchase, Mir defected to the Mughal Empire, taking with him over four hundred pounds of diamonds, including a 780-carat diamond that you may know by its current name, the Great Mughal.”

It was at that moment that Louis's butler returned, pushing a cart on which sat a small wooden trunk.

“Perfect timing,” Tavernier said, rising to his feet. “Would you care to see what I have brought, Your Majesty?”

Louis was practically salivating at the prospect.

With great fanfare Tavernier lifted the ornately carved chest and set it on the table before the king. From deep within a pocket of his robe he drew a small gold key, which he inserted into the lock. Three rotations brought a click and then Tavernier stepped back. He turned the chest to face the king and slowly lifted the lid.

King Louis's gasp of awe produced a deeply satisfied smile from Tavernier.

Inside the chest were more than one thousand polished diamonds of various colors, shapes, and sizes. The king of France slid a hand into the trunk, letting the smooth stones slide between his fingers. He said nothing for a long while, but instead gazed upon the treasure, occasionally holding one up to the light.

Instead of revealing the jewels individually or in small groups, Tavernier purposely had presented them together for maximum effect. He learned long ago that those with wealth and prestige were easily bored, even with things as spectacular as diamonds.

The king stirred Tavernier's diamonds with his bejeweled hand as resolve steadily covered his countenance. “I want them,” he finally said, looking at Tavernier for the first time since opening the trunk. “All of them.”

“I thought you might,” he grinned.

Colbert watched the exchange in guarded silence. “We will, of course, need to present these to the court jeweler Monsieur Pitau to check for clarity and irregularities.”

“Of course,” said Tavernier. “You are more than welcome to do so. I think he will find it an easy task, for I only brought those diamonds that are of the clearest grade and largest size. I did not want to waste Your Majesty's time with the rest.”

“There were more?” Louis said with raised eyebrow.

“Thousands more, Your Majesty, but none fit for a king such as yourself.”

“I see.” The king's hand once again slid into the chest and fondled the diamonds.

“And your price, Monsieur Tavernier?” asked Colbert. Hedging in the king's purse was a challenge not for the faint of heart.

Tavernier leaned forward, his face devoid of expression. “For this collection I require 490,000 livres and a title.”

At first the king and his finance minister stared blankly at him, and then they laughed. It was only when Tavernier did not return the mirth that they realized he was quite serious.

“Impressive though your collection may be, it hardly merits advancement in rank. I hardly think you could argue that, Monsieur Tavernier,” Colbert stated coldly.

“That is a pity.” Tavernier looked boldly at the king. “Because you have not yet seen everything I have to offer.”

He reached beneath his robe and pulled the worn buckskin pouch from around his neck. There was a slight moment of hesitation before he gently placed the pouch into the king's outstretched hand.

Louis grinned as he felt the full weight of the leather pouch. The two men locked eyes in a moment of understanding before he opened the drawstrings and slid the large blue diamond into his palm.

Colbert leaned forward and stared at the diamond. “I have never seen such a thing,” he muttered.

“Nor had I,” Tavernier replied, his voice cracking with unexpected emotion. “And Mir Jumla insisted there was something unique about this diamond.”

“How so?” Louis asked, his eyes still wide.

“When I purchased this stone from him, he told me it had been chiseled from the eye of a large Hindu statue. It comes with quite a tale of theft and mystery. Mir Jumla insisted that the stone was cursed. At first I did not believe him, but over the last fifteen years I have come to wonder if his tale does, in fact, bear some truth.”

The king heard little of what Tavernier said, for his gaze was still arrested by the deep blue diamond in his hand.

“Yet I have always intended that stone to be the means by which I receive a title. And if that is too great a price for you to pay, I know of monarchs in both India and Spain who would be more than willing to accommodate me.”

Louis' fingers instinctively closed over the diamond. “A title you say?”

“I have had my heart set on a baronet for quite some time.”

“And 490,000 livres is your price?”

“Yes, for the chest of stones. The great blue is an additional four hundred thousand livres,” he said. “Plus the title.”

Colbert gasped in anger, but the king dismissed his objection. “I feel certain that we can make arrangements, Monsieur Tavernier. It is not every day that I am presented with a stone such as this.”

Tavernier cast a longing glace at his precious blue stone. “Indeed,” he said. “Diamonds such as that one are most rare.”

“So are titles,” Colbert growled.

“A worthwhile trade in my opinion.”

“You drive a tough bargain, Monsieur Tavernier,” Louis said, his fingers still tightly wrapped around the diamond.

“I work in a tough business, Your Majesty. Diamonds do not find themselves.” All the while, Tavernier's eyes were on the jewel in Louis' hand. He suddenly felt naked without the familiar weight around his neck.

“And yet, what you request in exchange is simply preposterous,” Colbert argued, pulling at the stiff lace collar around his neck. Red blotches covered his cheeks, and his lips were drawn tight.

“Perhaps,” Tavernier nodded. “But I also know that the French monarchy has never had a jewel such as this. The crown jewels would benefit immensely from its addition.”

Louis snapped his fingers, ending their discussion. “I have made up my mind. I will have this jewel, along with the rest. And you shall have your title.”

“I am most honored, Your Majesty.”

“Colbert,” Louis ordered. “See that Monsieur Tavernier is compensated for these jewels.”

Jean-Baptiste Colbert looked at Tavernier with an icy resolve. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will ensure that Monsieur Tavernier gets exactly what he deserves.”

9

A
LEX WELD DROVE WITH ONE HAND ON THE STEERING WHEEL AND THE
other pressing his cell phone to his ear. “You do know how to tell a story, Dr. Mitchell.”

“Well, I have to make sure you call me again, don't I?” She sounded tired.

“Have no fear of that.”

“Good night, Alex.”

“I'll talk to you soon, Abby.”

Alex folded shut his phone and tossed it onto the passenger seat. He smiled at the windshield as he navigated traffic.

“Well, well, well, this is going to be more fun than usual,” he said to no one in particular.

Daniel Wallace, head of security, loomed inside the Smithsonian Office of Protection, glaring at a blinking red light on the console before him. “That can't be right.”

He sat before a row of closed-circuit television screens inside the computer terminus on the second floor of The Castle. The building rested like a slumbering giant in the early morning hours, undisturbed by the usual frenetic activity. He should have been home hours ago, but he had no one to go home to and little need for sleep.

“Marshall, did the motion detectors just go off in the basement?” He asked a bleary-eyed security guard working another console.

“I doubt it. Who would be in the basement at nearly one o'clock in the morning?”

“Run a check for me,” Daniel ordered. He pulled a pen from his coat pocket and clicked it with his thumb.

Blake Marshall glanced nervously at the blinking light and shook his head. He changed the video feed on the screen before him to basement footage and ran a security check on the motion sensors. “Well, I'll be,” he muttered. “Someone is in the basement.”

Daniel glanced at the clock. “When did the cleaning crew finish?”

“They coded out at midnight, and shift change isn't for another ten minutes.”

“The entire basement requires security clearance. Run the pass codes and tell me who just scanned their card.”

Marshall's fingers flew over the keyboard. “Looks like Randy Jacobs's, sir. He ran his card two minutes ago.”

A copy of Randy Jacobs's security badge appeared on the screen before them, looking just slightly less tired and overweight than he did in person. Daniel looked at it suspiciously for a moment and then unlocked a drawer beneath his desk.

“Where is he now?” he asked, rummaging through the contents.

“Let's see,” Marshall said, dragging and dropping information with his mouse. “He came in the ground-level employee entrance and took the service elevator to the basement. As far as I can tell he's in the Server Room now.”

“What do you mean as far as you can tell?”

“We have motion detectors in there but no cameras. Cards are required to enter a room, but not to exit. I can verify that he went in, but I don't know if he's still there.”

“Why don't we have video feed in that room?”

“It's just information technology. No need, sir.”

“What do you mean no need? Someone is down there right now, and I need to know who it is?”

Marshall frowned. “Randy Jacobs, sir?”

“That's not possible. Randy Jacobs left for Mexico this morning, and according to procedure, left his security badge with me at the end of his shift last night.” Daniel held up the security badge that was displayed on the monitor before them.

The copied badge easily gained Isaac access through the employee entrance and into the bowels of The Castle. The maze of corridors was empty as he traveled beneath the near-deserted building. Had he run into anyone, it would not have mattered. Not only did he have the proper clearance, but he wore the gray uniform of a Smithsonian guard. Although his initial breach of security had gone off smoothly, Isaac knew he had no time to relax.

His footsteps echoed on the sterile concrete floor as he walked through the information technology storage room. Dozens of fluorescent lights flickered above the sea of computer processors. Row after row of stainless steel shelving held hundreds of black boxes, each sprouting wires, cables, and plugs. The room hummed with the whirring of computers and the rush of air-conditioning. In a colossal effort to keep the machinery from overheating, the temperature inside the room was easily twenty degrees colder than in the hallway.

Isaac pulled a small flat black box from inside his uniform and made his way down the center aisle, stopping occasionally to check the numbered rows. Fifteen rows in, he turned left and knelt before a processor halfway up the shelf. It was labeled: Museum of Natural History, Floor Two, Janet Annenberg Hooker Hall of Gems.