Pearl Cove (17 page)

Most of the suites held customers conversing in Chinese. There were a few speaking English
and what might have been Italian. The suite specializing in black pearls was empty but for
a man sitting at a desk. The polished brass plaque announced that he was Paul Chevalier.
Archer knew that Monsieur Paul was one of Sam Changs head pearl buyers, an up-and-comer
from Tahiti who had his eye on one of the Chang granddaughters. If rumor was correct, the
granddaughter had both eyes on the very handsome Paul.

Paul barely nodded to Hannah and Archer before he went back to his phone call. He left the
distinct impression that he knew important customers on sight, and they didnt qualify.

Archer bent over Hannah, nuzzled and nibbled on her neck, and said softly, Were in luck.
Thats their top black pearl expert. If anyone can get us into the vault room, he can. Word
is that hes a vain, self-important son of a bitch. The kind who loves to put people in
their place, which is the dirt under his feet.

Her slow smile was pure acid. Only in the colonies, she said in a calm, carrying voice,
would anyone think their great-grandmothers hallway rug was classy.

Youre the one who wanted to look at pearls, Archer said. A twang had appeared in his
voice, something between Oklahoma and Texas. We were told this was the place to look,
darlin. So look. Screw the rug.

You never understand.

Aw, babe. How long did I look for just the right shade of fancy blue diamond for you?

She rolled her eyes. I was looking right alongside you.

Years.

But we found it, didnt we? She held her hand out and admired the flash and play of her
rings. Even if it looks a little off in this light. Stupid jewelry stores. Why dont they
just use full-spectrum lighting?

Admire your rocks outside. Were looking for a pearl necklace in here, remember? But he
grinned and ran his fingertip down her arm in a slow caress to take any possible sting
from his words. You know my policy. Only the best for you, darlin.

She made a husky, murmurous sound, stood on tiptoe, and brushed her lips against his.
Youre such a sweetie.

For you, Im pure sugar. He smoothed his hand over her hip and squeezed with the assurance
of a man fondling a longtime lover. Go see if you like something. If not, there are other
stores in Hong Kong.

She toyed with the gold chain lying against his furry chest, smiled when he winced at the
hair caught in the chain, and sauntered over to the nearest pedestal. After walking around
it once, she leaned in and calmly snagged the necklace off its ice-blue satin pillow.

Instantly an alarm chimed, both musical and loud. Monsieur Paul hung up and shot out of
his chair, letting loose a torrent of French with a pronounced Tahitian flavor.

Ignoring him like dirt under her feet, Hannah kept looking at the necklace. The
semibaroque black pearls were beautifully matched for shape, size, color, and luster. They
looked like slightly flattened planets with rings around them. Their orient had an unusual
silver-blue sheen. There was a scattering of surface pits and a few cloudy spots, all of
which were very minor on first inspection. The asking price was major, just under
$320,000. A portion of that price was due to the pale blue diamonds set in the platinum
clasp.

Whats he fussing about, sugar? she asked without looking up from the pearl necklace.

Beats me, Archer said, swallowing his laughter.

She replaced the necklace on its pedestal, which shut up the alarm. Without a pause she
headed toward the next display area. This one featured a matinee-length necklace of
matched, uniform black pearls. These had a peacock-blue sheen and a pigeon-blood ruby
clasp.

Madame, the man said quickly in English, stepping between Hannah and the velvet rope. I am
Monsieur Paul. Please permit me to assist you. Pearls are like a woman, very delicate.
They must be handled carefully.

His accent was island French, legacy of his birth on the Chang pearl farms in Tahiti. His
demeanor was that of a slender prince trying to be patient with a thickheaded peon. He
wore a suit and tie, both of cream-colored silk. His shirt was also silk, dawn pink in
color. Handsome as a soap-opera star, he moved confidently, knowing women of all races
would forgive him in advance.

He led Hannah back to the first pedestal and pulled a butter-soft cloth from his inner
suit-coat pocket. Deftly he switched off the alarm and wiped down the pearls Hannah had
touched. Only when he was satisfied with their gleam did he settle them back into their
satin-lined display and reactivate the alarm.

Throughout the whole process, Hannah examined her fingernails. One by one. The hot pink
color she had applied on the plane was already showing wear. When it came to nail polish,
she was hopeless. Nor did she care whether her nails were perfect or perfectly awful. She
was silently, thoroughly, telling the elegant Monsieur Paul that she wasnt forgiving him
for anything, no matter how beautifully he pouted.

If pearls are that delicate, they wont last long, will they? Archer asked Paul.

Mais non! With care, they will last for generation after generation.

Care, huh? Archer glanced at Hannah. She was still examining the polish she had put on
while he slept on the plane. Maybe you better fill me in. My wife and I are new to the
pearl game. She saw some black pearls on a French model at our last party and hasnt let up
on me since.

Pauls eyes brightened. Paying celebrities and models to wear Tahitian pearls was a common,
very effective way of drawing attention to pearls in a culture such as Americas, which was
focused on faceted gems.

Always store your fine pearls in a soft bag, Paul said in the tone of a professor,
separate from your hard gems. But no plastic, you understand. They must breathe. They were
created by a living animal. To remain beautiful, they must have moisture.

Good news, darlin, Archer said to Hannah. You can wear them to your aerobics class. That
should give em a good drink.

Monsieur Paul paled. No, no! He cleared his throat. The moisture in the air is best.
Perspiration, even from the most, ah, delicate of women, simply will not do. Perspiration
has acid in it, which will eventually change the pearls color.

Handle like a baby and no sweat. Anything else? Archer asked, looking impatient.

Ignoring the men, Hannah sidled up to the next display pedestal. She wanted a closer look
at the matinee-length pearls.

Of course, Madame knows not to put on her pearls until after she has applied her perfume
or hair lacquer and cosmetics, Paul said, inching away from Archer and watching Hannah
with faint horror.

Dont tell me, let me guess, Archer said, his voice edged with impatience. Perfume, hair
spray, and makeup arent good for pearls.

Ahhh, Paul sighed, relieved. You understand.

How about swimming in the damn things?

In the ocean, if you must. In a pool, never. Chlorine

I get it, Archer cut in. Chlorine eats the dainty little things. So how do you keep them
clean? Or are they too delicate to take that, too?

Use soap, not detergent, then rinse thoroughly and let the pearls dry in the air, Paul
said, watching Hannah narrowly. Never use ammonia or vinegar. It will destroy the pearls.
Un moment, madame. I will show you those pearls.

But Archer wasnt ready to let Paul off the hook quite yet. Sounds easier just to lock
pearls in a safety-deposit box and be done with it.

Hannah smiled to herself as Paul muttered something under his breath. It was one of Cocos
favorite curses, obscene and blasphemous in equal parts.

Vaults are often very dry, Paul said with immense patience. That is not good for pearls.
If you must lock them away in a steel box, put with them a damp cloth. Moisture, yes?

Darlin? Archer called out.

Yeah? She leaned in and reached for another necklace.

Stick to diamonds.

She gave both men a pouty, impatient look. I want black pearls. An alarm chimed as she
lifted the long necklace off its pedestal.

Archer sighed. Okay, babe. If you scratch them up, Ill get you some more.

She blew him a kiss.

Outrage and greed warred for control of Pauls expression. Greed won. He was, after all, in
the business of selling pearls.

Even to swine.

So, tell me about this one, Hannah said, running the pearls through her fingers.

Paul saw only her unusual, high-quality diamond, not the skill and care of her fingers as
she handled the necklace. Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars, American.

Why? she asked. Pardon? Why? she repeated.

With diamonds you have a fixed color scale and carat weight to determine price. What did
you do to price this necklace, pick a number out of the air?

Paul cleared his throat. It is a very complex process.

Uh-huh. Clearly she wasnt impressed.

Color, shape, presence or absence of blemishes, and size all figure into the price, Paul
said stiffly.

She nodded. Like diamonds.

Unlike diamonds, pearls are not touched by man. Their shape and polish is as natural as
the shine of water. Pearls come to you as they came from the oyster.

And pigs fly, Hannah thought sardonically. There were a hundred ways to make inferior
pearls look better than they were. But she wasnt supposed to know about that. She was just
supposed to know what she liked.

Unlike diamonds, which can be cut into many shapes, the shape of a pearl is determined
solely by the oyster, Paul said, falling into his sales patter. These are living gems,
very unique, very precious. Especially the spherical pearls. Most pearls are baroque. Do
you understand baroque?

It means theyre not round, doesnt it? Hannah asked indifferently.

Each shape has its own beauty, its own mystery, its own admirers Paul began.

Round, she cut in.

Pardon?

I want my pearls round. The models were round and black, but not really black. Lots of
color.

Spherical is the most valuable class of pearls. The ones you are holding now are
spherical. They also have a peacock-blue sheen, which makes them very desirable.

Not to me, Hannah said, handing him the pearls. I want reds and greens and golds and pinks
along with the blue. Dont you have something with more color?

This is a very fine necklace, Paul said through gritted teeth. She shrugged and wandered
off to the next pedestal.

Like I said, Archer muttered, we spent years looking for just the right shade of
silver-blue diamond for her. That woman is downright persnickety when it comes to color.
You have any idea how many shades blue diamonds come in?

Paul managed a smile. He knew just how much a flawless, vibrant, three-carat, fancy blue
diamond cost. That was why he wasnt showing these exasperating peasants to the door.

What about that little necklace in the window, darlin? Archer asked.

No, thanks, she said casually. Some of the pearls arent a very good match.

Paul winced and began wiping down the necklace she had just replaced on its pedestal.
Madame, I assure you, whether it is a question of shape, color, size, or orient, our
necklaces are matched to the highest standards.

Yeah? Then theyre not as high as mine. Like I told you, Archer said cheerfully, we
searched for years. My baby has an eye for color. Paul folded his lips and said not one
word.

She stopped at a third pedestal, hesitated, then went still. She would have sworn the
pearls in this necklace came from Pearl Cove. Not the experimental rafts, but the ordinary
black pearls that were the most profitable part of Pearl Coves production.

So, all your pearls come from around here? she asked.

Or is that just publicity crap?

Hannahs question pressed the button marked Sales. Words poured out of Paul like a swift
tide. If you speak of black pearls, you are speaking of Tahitian pearls. Tahiti has many,
many pearl farms. Each of them produces a pearl that is superior to any other in the
world. There is no need to search farther than my countrys own beautiful lagoons for the
very finest in black pearls.

Uh-huh, she said. Her tone said publicity crap.

Archer watched her closely. He didnt know what she was seeing in those particular pearls,
but the very stillness of her body told him that somehow, in some way, the pearls werent
what she had expected. He eased closer, ready to step in if she forgot her role and
started asking too many intelligent questions.

Sugar, are we going Down Under? Hannah asked, turning toward Archer. You know, that place
in Western Australia where they have miles and miles of pearl farms?

If thats what it takes to get you the necklace you want, thats where well go. He smiled at
the jeweler. Good thing they dont grow pearls on the moon. Sure as hell, shed be booking
us a shuttle flight.

Pauls smile said he thought that was an excellent idea, and the sooner the better.

Well, she said, shrugging, just because blokes er, folks in this store cant tell the
difference between a good color match and a great one is no reason for me to have pearls
like the ones in the window.

The black choker? Archer asked. The one I liked?

Yeah. I could do better than that with my eyes closed. She strolled past Paul, whose
tongue was developing red skid marks from being restrained between his teeth.

Darlin, youre being awful hard on the poor man, Archer said. His eyes said he was enjoying
every second of it.

At more than fifteen thousand bucks a pearl, I havent even started being hard.

The cost of any necklace, Paul said in a strained voice, reflects the difficulty of
matching the pearls, rather than the worth of each individual pearl.

Yeah, matching must have been tough, she said indifferently. Maybe youll get it right next
time.

Perhaps Madame would show me which pearls arent up to her exacting standards? Paul asked.
The disdain in his voice said that he didnt think she could.

Hannah flicked a sideways glance at Archer. He nodded so slightly that she would have
missed it if she hadnt been watching closely.

You sure you want me to? she said to Paul, but her eyes were still on Archer.

Quite, Paul said in a clipped voice.

It was Archers tiny signal, not Pauls urging, that sent her strolling toward the front
display window. Ignoring Paul darting around her like a nervous gazelle, she lifted out
the expensive choker and looked around for a neutral surface to put the necklace on. The
best she could do was a cream-colored satin tray she found on Pauls desk. Instead of
leaving the pearls in a neat circle as they had been in the window, she made the necklace
into two roughly parallel lines. Pearls that had been separated by the width of a womans
neck now lay side by side.

Saying nothing, Archer bent over Hannahs shoulder. The expression on his face was that of
a proud parent watching a beloved child perform. His hand on her butt wasnt that of a
parent. Absently he caressed one sleek, firm cheek.

Like it, buttercup? she muttered.

Prime. Really prime. He squeezed gently, deeply, before he released her.

When she turned and looked over her shoulder at his eyes, there was laughter and something
much hotter in them. Slowly she licked her lips and made a soft, growling-purring kind of
sound. Before he could recover, she bent back over the pearls. With a casual, deliberate
movement, she slid her butt firmly over his thighs. It was caress, promise, and warning in
one: two could play the intimate-couple game.

Archer laughed softly and wished he had nothing more on his mind but the feel of her taut
cheeks nuzzling up close to his crotch.

See this one? Hannah said. It doesnt look so hot with this one.

Note the position of the clasp, madame, Paul said quickly. When on your neck, the pearls
would not be next to each other.

Disdainfully she lifted her elegantly outlined eyebrows. So the deal is, a matched
necklace means the pearls only have to match the ones touching them? Is that what the
diamond spacers are for distraction from a so-so color match?

Pauls teeth came together with a muted click. The bitch might have the class of a hooker,
but she did have an exceptionally keen eye for color. The pearls were separated by the
width of a necklace because they werent a truly fine match. Ninety-nine people out of a
hundred wouldnt have noticed that the match wasnt excellent across the whole strand.
Unfortunately, this woman wasnt one of the ninety-nine.

Pearls are as individual as people, Paul managed. Just as no two people are exactly alike,
no two pearls are exactly alike.

Uh-huh, she said. But Im not asking about a matched-people necklace.

Archer snickered.

Im talking pearls here, she continued, ignoring him and focusing on Paul. Is this the best
color match you have?

The silvery blue semibaroque necklace he began.

No, she cut in impatiently. I told you, I want big, round black pearls with lots of color.
So is this the best big, round black pearl necklace you have?

Black pearls are the most difficult to match. The differences in orient are very great,
much more so than is the case with white pearls.

Uh-huh. So this is the best you have. She looked at Archer and jerked her head toward the
exit. C mon, darling. Well just have to tell the Rothenbergs that they were wrong about
this shop being the best

of the best. It aint.

However, we just happen to have an unstrung, triple strand necklace of large, round black
pearls, Paul said quickly. They are exceptionally colorful, and exceptionally well matched.

She froze as the words echoed in her mind. Black. Unstrung. Triple strand. Large. Round.
Exceptionally colorful.

The Black Trinity.

Yeah? Archer said, drawing Pauls attention away from Hannah. Where are they?

In the vault.

She clicked back into her role. Well, what are they doing in there? Youll never sell them
that way. God, dont the French know anything but food and rags?

Excuse me, Paul said, tight lipped. I will need assistance.

He stalked off to a back room.

Lazily Archer pulled Hannah close, nuzzled against her neck, and asked very softly, What
bothered you about that other necklace?

The hidden, leisurely caress of his tongue against her skin sent heat scattering over her.
They looked like Pearl Cove goods.

What do you mean? They certainly werent rainbows.

I cant remember every pearl Ive ever sorted, but I do remember the difficult or special
ones. Id swear Ive sorted pearls in just that combination of pink-orange orient and deep
black background, with the faintest of parallel lines in the surface. They were a right
bitch to match with the usual run of Pearl Cove product.

Probably because they came from Tahiti, not Pearl Cove.

Why would Never mind. Quotas, right?

Bingo. Laundering pearls from Changs Tahitian pearl farms through Australias Pearl Cove
would be a good way to evade quotas. Archer hesitated, then gave in to temptation. With
the tip of his tongue he tasted the soft, fragrant skin just behind Hannahs ear. Or the
pearls could have been stolen and then sold at bargain rates to Len. Another kind of
laundering. Its possible the pearls could have been stolen from Len and sold to Chang, but
its not likely. To my eye, the orient is Tahitian rather than Australian.

I agree. She shivered, caught between the sultry heat of Archers tongue tracing her
hairline and the cool assessment of his words. Would Ian have known about this?

Likely. Why?

If Chang wasnt evading the quotas, if Len was fencing stolen Chang pearls...

It would be a motive for murder, is that it? She nodded, though the thought of Ian Chang
ordering Lens murder made her cold. She had never wanted Chang as a lover, but she
considered him a friend.

Abruptly Hannah turned her face in to Archers neck, burrowing, inhaling the musky mixture
of heat and soap and man. Instead of being like rough silk, he felt rough, period. The
individual hairs that just barely poked out from his skin were like wire.

Why do they call it beard burn when you only get it from a man who shaves? she muttered.
Archer laughed softly at the non sequitur. Are you telling me I need to shave again? Im
telling you I miss your beard. I

ll throw away my razor. Lovely.

Tell me that in a week.

Okay.

He hesitated, then gave in to a need to touch, taste, cherish. He tilted up her chin and
kissed her, a kiss as soft as his voice whispering, Youre a very special woman, Hannah.

Because I like beards?

Among other things.

What other things?

Before he could answer, the door leading into the back of the shop opened and Paul strode
out. Madame, monsieur, if you will come this way, I will show you the finest of pearls.

Matched? Her voice was a nice blend of eagerness and doubt.

Mais out. He turned and barked out some fast orders in Chinese. Another man appeared. Like
Paul, he was slender, expensively dressed, and quite beautiful except for the suggestion
of a sneer on his full lips.

The man bowed briefly and took up a station near the door.

Come with me, Paul said. Please.

Hannah took her time following the curt invitation. Her pulse was still speeding from the
hot, delicate caress of Archers tongue and the stroke of his hand from her nape to her
hips. She would have been unnerved by her headlong response to him if she hadnt felt his
own swift reaction, the quickening of his pulse and the hardening of his body against her
belly.

The stores vault was much larger than the ruined one in Pearl Cove. Like the store, the
room leading to the vault was divided into sections. Unlike the store, the guards here
were visible, for all their carefully tailored dark silk suits. Anyone hoping to grab and
run wouldnt make it to the front door.

Off to the left, two Chinese men discussed the merits of three enormous silver-white South
Seas pearls. Just beyond the men, a Chinese dowager measured the weight and feel of a
matinee-length necklace whose pearls were all as big as a mans thumb. These, too, were
silver-white pearls. A German man wearing a wool sport coat and slacks waved off one tray
of undrilled pearls and demanded another. Despite the air-conditioning in the vault, the
German was sweating. On the table in front of him was the beginnings of a golden South
Seas necklace.