The Medusa stone (4 page)
Authors: Jack Du Brul
Paul "Tiny" Gordon was behind the bar as usual, and the diminutive former jockey had a vodka gimlet poured by the time Mercer crossed the barroom to sit next to a slouched Harry White. Already, Mercer felt the tension in his shoulders ease. There were only a handful of other people in the bar.
"I read somewhere that people who drink on a Tuesday are either drunks or alcoholics," Harry said, looking at Mercer.
"What's the difference?"
"Alcoholics have to go to meetings," Harry deadpanned.
"And this from the guy who thinks booze is the missing link on the food chain," Mercer smiled. "Old joke, Harry."
"What do you want? I'm an old man." In his largtty with fd the empty glass on the bar, paying no heed to the direction of his friends' stares. "Tiny, pour me another and put it on Mercer's tab." It was only then that Harry noticed Tiny was looking past his shoulder. He turned. "Holy shit."
The woman smiled at the attention, though Mercer was sure she was self-conscious.
Maybe it was because Harry had mentioned Aggie yesterday or maybe because Hyde had Mercer thinking about Africa, but he couldn't tear his eyes from her. She was beautiful, with an African's poise and allure. Studying her, Mercer didn't experience the usual gut clench he'd had for the past months. Rather, in its place was a new feeling, something a bit lower than his stomach and eminently more enjoyable.
She strode to the bar, gliding over the scuffed linoleum with a dancer's grace, her narrow hips swiveling to the delight of the three men. "Good evening." Her accent was untraceable, but her voice matched her face, melodious and provocative. "I'm looking for Dr. Philip Mercer. He wasn't at his home and I was told that he sometimes comes here. Have any of you gentlemen seen him?"
Harry was the first to find his voice. "Yes, I'm Philip Mercer. What can I do for you, beautiful lady?"
She thrust out one slim hand to shake Harry's. "Dr. Mercer, I'm Selome Nagast from the Eritrean embassy. I was supposed to be at your meeting today with Prescott Hyde."
"Your presence would have graced a rather fruitless luncheon, I'm sure." Harry leered, coming to his feet and pouring on the charm.
Mercer debated with himself about how long to allow the charade to continue.
"I'm sorry I couldn't make it. Bill told me what happened, and if you don't mind, I'd like this opportunity to state our case once more, this time from the side of the people you can help."
"Miss Nagast," Mercer broke in, sensing that she was becoming uncomfortable with Harry's lustful looks. "I'm Mercer. This is a friend of mine, Harry. He suffers terribly from a multiple personality disorder. Just before you came in, he thought he was Rita Hayworth."
Selome Nagast barely missed a beat. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hayworth. I've been a fan ever since seeing
Gilda
on television."
Gilda
on television."
Harry looked as if he could have killed Mercer as he shook the woman's hand once more. "Just a little joke," he chuckled, "one that Mercer ended too quickly and will surely pay for. Can he buy you a drink, miss?"
"A white wine, I think."
"In a place like this?" Tiny said from behind the bar. "You must be adventurous."
A moment later, he set an eight-year-old French chardonnay from his private stock in front of her.
Mercer gathered her drink and a fresh one for himself. "Why don't we take a booth?"
She followed him to a leatherette bench seat just below a smoke-grimed plate-glass window. Rather than analyze Selome Nagast's presence at Tiny's and how Hyde's dossier mentioned he frequented the establishment, Mercer started speaking as soon as they were comfortable.
"I spent most of the afternoon going over Hyde's proposal, and what I said earlier at the Willard still stands. I'm sorry, Miss Nagast, but I must decline your offer. I can neither refute nor prove what those photographs show, but I s as quickly as possible. He was impressed by Selome and her determination but he also knew she was fooling herself. In fact, he'd fooled himself too. He'd wasted a day looking for the pipe because he too wanted it to be there. He saw a trace of defeat in her eyes and wanted to take her hand as a physical reassurance.
"We are going to pursue this," Selome said, surprising steel in her voice.
"I wish you luck, I really do. I'm sorry I can't help you."
She got up to go, but Mercer could not let her leave on such a sour note. He reached out and touched her wrist. "Listen, I could be wrong. You could be sitting on the biggest diamond strike in history, but you must prepare yourself to be disappointed. No matter what, it's going to take a long time."
"Dr. Mercer, none of us are as naive as you think. Of course this is going to be difficult, we all expect that, but it does not mean we shouldn't try."
Mercer got up from the booth after she had gone and slumped back at the bar next to Harry. "You heard?"
"Yeah," Harry replied. "Don't you think you were a little tough? Before she came in, you thought there might still be a chance that the diamonds are in Eritrea."
"I know, but I was wrong. Talking to Selome, I realized I was merely hoping, just like she and Hyde. Unless they can get one of the big mining concerns to foot the bill, it's best they forget the whole idea." Mercer demurred Tiny's offer of another drink. "They live in one of the poorest places on earth, and they want to blow possibly millions of dollars on a project with a thousand to one odds. It's wrong and I think even our Miss Nagast recognizes it."
"Why do you say that?"
"This six weeks she mentioned. I don't believe her reason for the rush any more than she does. Eritrea's been an independent country for a couple of years and the diamonds have been there for a couple hundred million, so why the big push now? I don't think they have the money for anything more extensive. And I think there is something more going on here. Prescott Hyde and the lovely Selome Nagast are keeping something from me. I don't know what it is and I don't really care. I'm done with this whole thing."
Mercer had seen it dozens of times, especially in Africa. Money that could really help the people squandered on some glamorous project that usually never gets completed or, if it is, gets abandoned shortly. He hated that type of epidemic waste and wouldn't let himself become part of it. He considered calling some of his contacts in the mining industry to try to blackball the whole thing. It was the best he could do to save Eritrea its money.
"Are you going to continue your research tomorrow anyway?"
"No. I'll finish my report to Yukon Coal like I promised and look for another project. If the diamonds are there, they weren't meant for me to find."
The next morning, Mercer had already gotten his newspaper and a cup of tar-thick coffee before he noticed a package resting on the polished bar top. It was a plain buff envelope that hadn't been there last night! A sudden adrenaline burst shot through his system. His home had been violated before--indeed, he had killed a potential assassin in the bar less than a year ago--but knowing someone had secretly broken in while he slept was even more disturbing. He ruthlessly crushed down a rising sense of panic.
After checking his entire house to make sure he was alone, he f Eritrea, how may I direct your call?" The receptionist's accent was thick.
"Selome Nagast, please."
Mercer waited fifteen seconds as the woman checked her directory. "I am sorry, sir, but there is no one here with that name."
"Are you sure?" Mercer realized it was a stupid question.
"Yes, sir."
"Is it possible she works at the embassy but doesn't have a phone listing?" Mercer asked hopefully but a niggling doubt was forming in the back of his head.
"We have a new voice-mail system," the receptionist explained. "Even temporary employees can receive messages."
"Thank you." Mercer kept the suspicion out of his voice and dialed Prescott Hyde. He wondered if his dismissal of Selome Nagast as Harry's kidnapper had been premature.
"I'm surprised to hear back from you, Dr. Mercer. You made it clear yesterday that you aren't interested in our venture."
"Let's just say I've had a change of heart. I'm on board now one hundred percent and wanted you to be the first to know." Mercer said nothing about Selome. At this point, any information he had was a weapon, and now wasn't the time to use it. "I've already started working on the project. I've got heavy equipment en route from South Africa, three D-11 dozers, a couple of big front loaders, six Terex dump trucks, and a Caterpillar 5130 hydraulic shovel. All of the iron is leased for six months except the 5130, which Eritrea is going to have to buy."
"Hold on there. I'm with Selome right now and you're on a speaker phone. She's shaking her head something fierce."
"Dr. Mercer, I can't authorize any of that. It's just too much money." Selome's voice sounded distant over the speaker connection.
Somehow he'd expected her there. It only deepened his suspicions.
"Listen, you two wanted this project in the first place. If I'm going to get results, it's got to be done my way or not at all," Mercer said sharply. "I didn't set this six-week rule, you did. If I'm expected to find anything, I'm going to need to move a lot of dirt. I've got a pretty good lease package for us, and if need be, I can get a sales contract on the excavator for when we're finished with it. That'll save you a couple million bucks. You're lucky--my first idea was to bring in a walking dragline with a forty-million-dollar price tag, but we'd lose too much time with its on-site assembly. As it is, the 5130 will take two weeks to put together once it's shipped in."
"You don't understand. We just can't do it this way," Selome protested. "I can't guarantee your safety if you present that kind of target."
"By the time the equipment rolls in, I'll have pinpointed the best site, and you'll only have to protect a single camp. From what I understand, nearly every Eritrean over the age of thirty has a military background, so surely you can muster a protective force? When I'm doing the actual prospecting, I'll basically be on my own, so you won't have to worry about me."
"We wanted something much more low-key," Selome said.
"You know what she means," Hyde broke in. "A small team, minimal equipment and maximum secrecy. You're talking about bringing in an army."
"That's what it's going to take," Mercer snapped just wanted oversight, right? Well, consider this a trial run, but this is going to be my show. I'll bring in the equipment I need and any people I want. If you don't like it, if it isn't what you expected, well, tough shit. This is what you got."
Hyde finally broke the silence. "I guess we caught a tiger by the tail here. You've taken us both a little by surprise. We need some time to digest all of this."
"You've got until Friday. That's when I catch my flight to Eritrea. I plan to be in Asmara on Saturday morning and in the area of the search no later than Monday. I have a lot to go over with both of you before I leave, but that can wait until tomorrow. For now, you need to start working on getting me local support once I'm in country."
"And if we take your earlier advice and abandon the project?"
There was no malice in Mercer's voice when he responded. "Then I call a few friends, and within a month Eritrea will be dug up from one end to the other. I've got the contacts to guarantee your nation will be stripped clean with total impunity, and there is nothing either of you can do about it. I'll talk to you again tomorrow."
Mercer was panting when he hung up. He was gambling with Harry White's life when he just bluffed Hyde and Selome, and it made him tremble. His nerves were fraying. He dialed the phone again.
"The Knight Medical Group," a receptionist chirped.
"Is Terry there?"
"Dr. Knight is with a patient. May I have him call you back?"
"He's playing video games in his office," Mercer said. "Why don't you give him a buzz and see if he'll talk to me. This is Philip Mercer."
A minute later Terrance Knight came on the line. "Great timing, Mercer. I was on the final level of
Doom
and I still have two men left."
Doom
and I still have two men left."
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