Rough Cut (3 page)

   Twenty minutes later, Carter, dressed in a dark suit, white shirt and a rather flamboyant red and green tie, was preparing to deliver a lecture to a room full of students. Although he was not a natural public speaker, he was fairly relaxed about the task in front of him, having fulfilled the role quite successfully on a number of previous occasions.

   “Good morning, students,” he began, and slowly the room grew silent as the class stopped chattering.

   “My name is Carter Jefferson, and I graduated from Oxford University with a masters degree in Geology in…” Carter paused to allow his little joke to mature, “…well it was a while back, long before any of you even existed.” A few of the students managed a polite chuckle at this before Carter continued.

   “After that, I took an interest in diamonds and ended up working for the Federation of International Diamond Traders here in New York, something I still do, but only occasionally, on a freelance basis now.”

   Carter looked up at the back row of the lecture theatre as one of the students, a young man dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt raised his hand and shouted out.

   “I thought you were a hot shot author! That’s what it says in your online bio.” The other students laughed loudly at the interruption as Carter smiled and looked down at his feet, wondering how to respond. He was used to students attempting to unsettle him but this was a new tactic. After a few moments, he looked up at the student.

   “Good to see you’ve been doing some research,” he said,  “I’m impressed.”

   Several of the students turned to each other and started talking about the revelation that their lecturer was an author. Carter watched them, considering how best to proceed before finally deciding to give them what they wanted.

   “OK. Just so we can get this out of the way and move on to what we’re here for today, it is true that I have written some books, including a novel based on one of my more interesting experiences.” Carter paused as the room went quiet again, reflecting the students’ new found interest in this man’s background. “And, while I’m waiting for that to hit the best-seller lists and make me my fortune, now and again I get to tell guys like you everything I know about diamonds.”

   The room remained hushed and Carter smiled as he surveyed the students, most of whom were now sitting attentively waiting for him to continue.

   “OK,” he began, “So who can tell me? What
is
a synthetic diamond?”

_________________________

   Later that day,  on the seventh floor of the Gemological Institute building, the floor which was occupied by the FIDT, Carter entered a meeting room and shook hands with John Sprague. The two men had become friends over the years and the handshake was followed by a brief hug.

   As John lifted his briefcase onto the table and Carter sat down, John gave him a knowing look and smiled. He reached into his briefcase and removed a jeweller’s eye-glass, a 10x loupe, and a pair of long tweezers, both of which he put on the table in front of Carter. Then he pulled out a piece of soft black velvet cloth and spread it out on the table. Finally, he reached into his briefcase again and extracted a pouch made of similar black velvet material. He loosened the cord of the pouch and emptied the contents, about twenty sparkling gem quality diamonds, onto the black cloth.

   Carter picked up one of the diamonds with the tweezers and examined it with the loupe. As he turned the diamond over, examining it carefully, John spoke.

   “They’re all synthetic,” he said,  “but incredibly good quality, the best I’ve ever seen.”

   “It was bound to happen sooner or later,” replied Carter, not taking his eye from the loupe.

   John’s response came in a resigned tone. “I know. We’ve always known it was just a matter of time. The fact that someone is making gem quality synthetics of this size and clarity isn’t the problem. It’s what they’re doing with them that concerns us.”

   Carter replaced the diamond on the cloth. Then he put down the tweezers and the loupe and leaned back in his chair.

   “OK, John, I’ll take the assignment,” he said, looking John in the eye as he spoke. “We can’t have all the world’s lovebirds thinking they’re buying something that’s been in the ground since… since forever, when what they’re actually getting is something that was made in a factory last week!” Carter managed a faint smile before his expression turned more serious. “This case is of particular interest to me,” he said, “because the mine in Guinea where the diamonds appear to have come from, is owned by Philippe Lacoste.” Carter paused, waiting for a response from John.

   “Yeah, and…” prompted John obligingly, a blank look on his face as he waited for Carter to continue.

   “Well, the thing is, I know Philippe Lacoste. At least, I have met him. A long time ago, when I was at university in England, I had a girlfriend, a fellow student. She was his daughter and, hard though it might be to believe, he didn’t like me.” Carter smiled as John looked at him wondering where this information was leading. “But that’s a story for another day. Where I’m getting to is that Monsieur Lacoste lives in the South of France, so that’s probably where I should start my investigation, assuming you still want me on the case?”

   “Definitely,” said John, nodding emphatically.

   “Well, I’m due to fly to Europe next week anyway…” said Carter, smiling as he anticipated what he would say next, “…for the UK launch of my last literary masterpiece.”

   John returned the smile. “Of course,” he said and patted Carter on the shoulder, “I’d forgotten about that.”

   “So, if it’s OK with you, I’ll get onto this straight after that.”

   John nodded his agreement to Carter’s proposal. “That’s settled then,” he said. “And you can have Conrad to help you as usual. I’ll have him join you in England.”

   With that, John rose from the table and held out his hand. “Carter,” he said, “Until we meet again.”

   The two men shook hands before Carter turned and headed for the door as John gathered up the synthetic diamonds and returned them to his briefcase.

CHAPTER 2

Rob’s funeral was a quiet affair. Behind the hearse carrying the coffin, the black Rolls Royce in which Nicole and Eloise were travelling drove the few miles from the church to the cemetery.

   Eloise sat stony faced, staring straight ahead and trying to work out why anyone would want to kill her brother. She couldn’t believe that it was simply because he had caught a burglar in the house. Nicole cried quietly throughout the short journey.

   In the black Daimler limousine behind them were Jeremy and Anna with Nicole’s father, Philippe Lacoste, who had flown in from Nice the night before. Philippe knew the Baineses quite well, both through Nicole and also as a result of renting boats to them on their frequent visits to the South of France. Several other cars followed on behind.

   Watery sunshine broke through the clouds for the first time that day as the cortege passed through the bleak, wrought iron cemetery gates and wound down the narrow road to the bottom of the hill. When all the cars had rolled to a halt, the funeral director led his men to the back of the hearse where, slowly and reverently, they removed the coffin and placed it on their shoulders. Led by Nicole and Eloise, the mourners followed on behind, their footsteps silent on the freshly cut grass. At the grave side the minister from their local church delivered the final words.

   “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust… in sure and certain hope…”

   Eloise squinted up at the sun and felt the warm rays on the soft skin of her face as she did. Her brother was dead and yet, somehow, she felt strangely peaceful in that place. She could hear the birds singing in the nearby trees and the scent of flowers from the many bouquets drifted past her.

   And then it was over and the coffin was lowered into the grave. First Nicole and then Eloise tossed a small scoop of earth onto the coffin and left to return to the cars. Eloise sighed a deep sigh and turned to her mother.

   “They will catch whoever did this, won’t they?” She looked up at her mother’s face and saw the tears welling up in her eyes.

   “Of course they will, sweetheart. Of course they will.”

   But Eloise knew that in the week since Rob’s death the police had made virtually no progress with the case. The post mortem had told them nothing new and their effort had been reduced to two men, for whom the case would just be one of many.

   Back at Darrington Hall, the mourners wandered between the sitting room and the dining room where the food which Anna had prepared was laid out. On each visit they piled their small plates high with a selection from the lavish spread.

   Eloise watched her mother smile painfully at the people who went over to convey their sympathy. She knew how difficult she was finding it and she was glad that mostly people were leaving her alone. She felt for her mother having to deal with this without her father and recalled what her mother had told her about how they had met. They had both been students at Oxford University at the time and they had met a few months after Nicole had experienced a difficult break up with her previous boyfriend. A whirlwind romance had followed and Nicole had never looked back. Eloise sighed and hoped that one day she would meet someone about whom she would feel that strongly. As she was lost deep in thought, she suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder.

   “Hello, you,” said a sympathetic voice; Jeremy Baines had crept up behind her.

   “Oh, hi Jeremy.” Eloise’s voice lacked any real conviction that she was pleased to see him but her smile was warm.

   When, a month earlier, Jeremy had offered her the job with his company, she had been happy to accept it. The offer had been an attractive one, good pay and interesting work organising and managing the company’s promotional events throughout Europe.

   As her mind wandered back to the scene before her, Jeremy continued to try to engage her in conversation.

   “How are you liking the job?” he asked, “Have you settled in all right with us?”

   “Hmm? Oh, yes. Fine, thanks,” replied Eloise, reluctantly dragging herself back into Jeremy’s presence and giving him her full attention.

   “I hear good things about your organisation of our conference in Sainte Maxime next week.”

   “Good, I’m glad.” Eloise paused for a few moments before continuing, “I was really looking forward to it, but now, after this…”; she waved her hand in front of her.

   “Yes, I can imagine. But it’ll do you good, I’m sure. The boat trip to Monaco, especially.” Eloise smiled weakly as Jeremy continued. “Did I tell you Anna’s decided to come with us? Says she’ll need a few days somewhere warm after Moscow this weekend.”

   Eloise laughed politely. “Me too!” she said

   “Are you all packed and ready? It’s an early flight you know.”

   “Yup! Woolly hat and winter coat already in the case,” joked Eloise.

   “Good! And don’t forget your gloves. You’ll need them too,” said Jeremy, playing along.

   “You’d never guess it was the middle of summer would you?” added Eloise and Jeremy laughed.

   “We’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow morning, as planned, OK?”

   Eloise nodded and smiled as Jeremy wandered off. When he had gone, her thoughts returned to the reality of the occasion, her brother’s funeral. She stood alone, lost in her thoughts for a few minutes before Anna approached her. She reached out her hand and touched Eloise’s shoulder, giving her a sympathetic look as she did.

   “Lovely spread,” said Eloise as Anna let her hand drop to her side, “It was very kind of you to go to so much trouble. I don’t know how Mum would have coped without you these last few days.”

   “Glad to be able to do something to help,” said Anna and she smiled warmly at Eloise. “It was the least I could do at such a difficult time.”

   “Are you still as busy as ever with all your charities?” asked Eloise, trying to make polite conversation. She knew very well that Anna was tireless in her devotion to those organisations which had won her support. Anna smiled slightly, happy for the topic of conversation to move on to something other than Rob’s untimely demise and its consequences.

   “Oh, yes. Still keeping busy winkling money out of people who have more than they should.”

   They both laughed dutifully and then there was a few moments of awkward silence before Anna saw Philippe approaching. She put her hand on Eloise’s shoulder again as she spoke.

   “Oh, please excuse me, Eloise. I must just speak to Peter Brearly over there. He’s promised to organise a fundraiser for me. I’ll see you in the morning.”

   Anna glanced at Philippe as he approached and his eyes followed her as she darted off leaving Eloise on her own.

   Eloise’s grandfather was French, very French, and he had a commanding presence. A successful businessman in his seventies with fingers in many pies, he was tall for someone of his age and his face wore a tough, almost gaunt look although this was softened somewhat by a large grey moustache. Eloise smiled as he came up to her and they kissed each other on the cheek.

   “Hello, Grandpa,” she said.

   “Eloise,” he responded rather formally, “How are you doing?”

   “OK, I suppose, in the circumstances.” Eloise’s answer was non-committal.

   “This is a bad business,” broached Philippe. “Whoever did this will pay for what he has done.”

   “The police don’t seem to be making much progress,” offered Eloise.

   “Don’t worry, Cherie, justice will be done. Of this I am sure.”

   Although Philippe was her maternal grandfather, Eloise hardly knew him and found it difficult to carry on a conversation with him. She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times they had met and she had always been a little frightened of him. Eloise knew from what her mother had told her that he was a hard man to please. He had taken it badly when his daughter had announced her intention to marry an Englishman and this had resulted in a degree of estrangement between them. But he did care about his daughter and had been sorry when Andrew had died, leaving her to bring up his grandchildren on her own.