Читать книгу The Diamond Secret - Ruth Wind - Страница 14

Diamonds were worn by aristocratic families to ward off the plague during the Middle Ages. The poorest people always died first, since they lived closer to the docks, where the ships often brought the plague from other countries. The rich had an idea that since the poor went first, that displaying their wealth (diamonds) would keep them from infection.

—Margaret Odrowaz-Sypniewski, B.F.A.

When I climbed into the car, he slammed the door and came around to get behind the wheel. He did not look at me as he turned the key in the ignition. I noticed that his hands were shaking slightly.

“Where is your room?” he asked gruffly.

I gave him directions. He nearly turned the wrong way out of the parking lot, and cursed left-hand drive before he corrected his turn. “When will Britain catch up with the rest of the world on traffic?”

“Never.”

“It’s idiotic.”

I shrugged. “Probably.”

It took longer to get out of the parking lot than it did to get to the hotel, and we pulled up into the lot there. Lamplight glowed at the windows stacked up into the darkness.

Would I invite him in? Under other circumstances, I might have. But I would not do it tonight. There were too many volatilities built into it. Too much at stake.

I got out. He followed me, keys in hand, to the back of the car. Without speaking, he opened the trunk, let me grab my bag, and slammed the top down again.

“Thanks,” I said, and headed toward the door of the hotel, rolling the case behind me. He followed.

I stopped. “What are you doing?”

“Coming with you.”

“Why?”

“What are you going to do, Sylvie?” He scowled. “Turn it in to the authorities?”

That was exactly what I should do. My career depended on my doing exactly that. Why was I hesitating? “I don’t know yet.”

“Before you act, Sylvie, will you think on it? It belongs to Romania. If you take it to Maigny, it will never be there again.”

“He has no part in this. I told you, we haven’t spoken in years.”

“So you say.” He paused. “If you will help me return it to Romania, I will make it worth your while.”

“If I do that, my career is over, Luca.”

“Not if it appears that I kidnapped you.”

I shook my head. “No.”

He lowered his eyes, then looked at me. “And what if I kidnap you now?”

“You would have done it already if that was what you intended.” I paused with my hand on the door to the hotel. “Would have been much easier for you all around, wouldn’t it? Grab me in San Francisco, make sure Paul knew so he didn’t kill you and then get the jewel back to Romania.”

“Yes.”

I met his eyes. “But you didn’t. You’re a thief, but not violent.”

A slight shrug. He started to speak, then paused. Looked toward the parking lot. “If—”

I waited, but he didn’t finish. “‘If…?’” I prompted.

“If I return the jewel to Romania, I can perhaps regain the good opinion of my family. It would mean a great deal to me.”

Something about his plea moved me. The diamond felt almost as if it started to hum against my flesh. “I’m so tired,” I said. Touched cold fingers to the middle of my eyebrows. “Do you suppose we could talk about all of this in the morning?”

“Very well,” he said. “Let’s get my bag.”

We went into the hotel, and the girl nodded to me. I went up the stairs, not wishing to wait for the tiny, narrow elevator. My room was on the third floor. Luca didn’t say a word. His keys jingled in his hand as he followed behind me. It occurred to me that I should be afraid of him—but I wasn’t. My instincts, honed in dozens of cities throughout my childhood spent following my father around the circuit, told me that Luca meant me no harm.

I thought of his mouth, that luscious kiss, and considered the possibility of letting him sleep in my bed tonight. And what kind of an idiot I’d be if I let him.

But you know, it had been a long bad year. My divorce anniversary was in two days. Sometimes what you want is a little affirmation that you’re attractive, that you’ve still got it. Or maybe I just wanted the warmth of another person’s skin next to mine.

On the landing, I paused. “I’m really not going to give you the jewel.”

“I will not ask it.” His eyes were luminous and direct. “Take it to the police, let it be stolen again, let another fool be murdered.”

“Or perhaps I’ll take it to Paul,” I said, dangerously.

“That, too, is an option. But a criminal who wants it for greed will surely be swept away by the curse, will he not?”

“Why would I care?”

He smiled. “Why, indeed?”

I turned my back and climbed the rest of the stairs. My door was the third one down. I paused for a second outside, and turned toward Luca. The door fell open beneath my hand, and startled, I turned back.

Holding my breath, I silently began to push it open. It was nearly impossible to keep my hand away from the priceless weight nestled beneath my left breast. The door moved heavily on well-oiled hinges, an inch at a time. There was a light on within. I couldn’t remember if I’d left one on or not.

My cell phone rang.

Three things happened at once—I scrambled to pull it out of my pocket; Luca leapt forward to push the door the rest of the way open, just as someone inside the room came hurtling out. I ducked, instinctively rolling toward one side.

I shouted, “Look out!” but Luca was already down, a red gash opening over his brow. I only had a hazy impression of a burly man in a sweatshirt before I saw the gun he carried in a white, freckled hand. I dove for the floor, my cell phone ringing again. Luca was on his feet, rushing for the intruder, but the man headed straight down the hall and disappeared into another hallway, presumably stairs for the staff. Luca went after him, but returned in a moment, shaking his head. “He’s gone.”

The cell phone rang again, loud against my thigh. I reached for it, thinking to flip it open, but just as I got it into my hand, doors started opening along the corridor. Luca grabbed me and shoved me toward the elevator, jamming his fingers against the buttons.

I managed a muffled, “What—?”

He pulled me into him, an arm across my chest, his mouth against my ear. “We must look like lovers. Be still.” He let go of a laugh, as if he were drunk, and hid the blood on his face by ducking into my shoulder.

The elevator came and he shoved me inside it. The doors closed. I yanked out of his grip, hit the second floor button. “I’m not going with you.”

“They’ll kill you for that jewel.”

“They! Who are they?”

“I don’t know. There were others who knew Gunnarsson had the Katerina. And someone killed him before I got there.”

“This is too much,” I said, putting my fingers to my temples. I desperately needed sleep, a break, some coherence.

“Sylvie, you must not be alone. Not until the jewel is delivered.”

“I don’t want any part of this!” I cried, and reached into my bra, yanked it out, tossed it at him. “You take it.”

The jewel, absurdly huge, fell against the floor with a thump and lay at his feet. He literally shuddered. The elevator moved, headed downward, and he punched the stop button.

The cubicle slammed to a stop. We stood there, staring at each other, with the blood dripping down his forehead, the jewel at his feet. “Please,” he said. “I will do whatever you ask. Help me.”

“I don’t need anything from you.”

Blood trickled into his left eye and he blinked, wincing, his fingers white on the stop button. He kicked the jewel back toward me. “I am directly related to the priest who had it dug from the grave. I cannot touch it. I need you.”

“You had to touch it somehow.”

He shook his head. “I picked it up with a glove, put it in a box.”

“You can do that now.”

“Please,” he said. “Help me. It is not for me. It is for Romania, for the first Katerina. For justice.”

For a long moment, I thought about it. There was more I didn’t know, more I wanted to understand, and it all bumped around in my head like boxes on a stormy sea. None of the story hung together. Probably a lot of that was exaggerated by the very real case of jet lag that was dragging on my brain cells.

But the one thing I did know was that I did not want to let the jewel go just this moment. Before I decided, I wanted to get some sleep. And if I were honest, didn’t some part of me want to carry it to Paul himself, like an offering?

“All right,” I said, and bent down to pick up the jewel. In my hand, it was startlingly alive, with a deep vibration I could feel through to my wrist. I looked at it. “It’s very powerful, this stone,” I said quietly.

Luca looked as if he’d throw up. “Put it away,” he said.

I tucked it into my bra again, then remembered my clothes, now sitting upstairs in the hallway. “Damn it! I want to go back for my clothes.”

“No,” he said, adamantly.

“I have a pair of very expensive custom-made red leather pants in that bag, damn it.”

“I’ll buy you a new pair for God’s sake. Let’s go!”