‘‘I’m getting all kinds of useful information.’’
‘‘That’s what the museum’s here for.’’
Diane caught a twinkle in his light brown eyes. ‘‘You’re right about that,’’ she said, smiling in spite of herself. Diane picked up the diamond and put it against her skin. ‘‘That’s about the size of the one I saw. How much is this diamond worth?’’
‘‘This is a particularly good diamond. It’s one carat—carat refers to weight, by the way. It’s actually weight that matters and not size. This one is pretty much clear of flaws. It has what’s called an ideal cut and is rated a D on the color scale, which is at the top of the colorless range. On the market, this would cost around ten thousand dollars.’’
Chapter 26
Diane looked up at him sharply. ‘‘Ten thousand dollars?’’
‘‘Good diamonds are expensive.’’
‘‘I didn’t realize that diamonds are that rare.’’
‘‘They’re not. But over three-quarters of the world’s diamonds are controlled by one company, and they’re very good at making diamonds seem rare.’’
Diane picked up the diamond and studied it in the palm of her hand. ‘‘That’s a lot of money for a diamond.’’
‘‘You don’t think your guy could afford that?’’
‘‘I haven’t seen his bank account, but I would have thought it unlikely.’’
‘‘Then it may not have been a diamond. We’ve been working on the assumption that the stone was a dia mond, but it takes an expert to identify one.’’
Mike reached in and pulled out several more plastic containers and lined up five stones on the batting. He dropped one of the lids on the floor and it started rolling. Diane reached down and picked it up before it got across the floor.
‘‘I could have sworn you did that on purpose,’’ said Diane when she rose and placed it back on the table.
‘‘I did. I rearranged the stones. I thought I’d let you pick out the diamond.’’
Diane looked at the row of stones. They were all beautiful, all about the same size, and very similar.
‘‘What if these get mixed up? Can you tell them apart?’’
‘‘Sure. I know in what order I placed them, and I have photos of their internal structures. Besides, I’ve got this sweet little device that’ll identify them for me if I get mixed-up.’’
‘‘That’s good to know.’’ Diane went down the row of stones, picking each one up, twisting it from side to side with her fingers, looking at the sparkle. She pushed one back. ‘‘I don’t think it’s this one.’’
‘‘Very good. That’s a white sapphire. The value is, I think, around a hundred thirty dollars.’’
She examined the remaining four again and moved another back and looked at Mike, who watched her closely with an amused glint to his eyes. ‘‘Cubic zirco nia. Maybe fifteen dollars,’’ he said.
Diane moved another stone away from the line.
‘‘Very good,’’ said Mike. ‘‘That’s a synthetic diamond—retails for about three thousand dollars.’’
‘‘A lucky guess. They all look so much alike. But it had a slightly yellow cast to it. You’re right. You’d have to look at it against a white background to see it.’’
Two were left. Diane picked them up and looked at them side by side. She moved them under the light. Weighed each in her hand, though she didn’t know why. She had not a clue what it would mean if one were heavier than the other. It was the spar kle, she realized, she had used to eliminate the oth ers. She took another look at the stones, twisting them under the light. She set them down and moved a stone back in line with the others she had elimi nated, and looked at Mike. His eyes still cast that amused sparkle.
‘‘Well?’’ she asked.
‘‘You just eliminated the diamond.’’
‘‘And I was almost sure.’’
‘‘Nope. You were looking at the fire, weren’t you?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
‘‘This.’’ He picked up the one remaining stone. ‘‘This is a moissanite—costs about three hundred dol lars. It has a higher refractive index than a diamond and is almost as hard.’’
‘‘I’ve never heard of a moissanite.’’
‘‘Silicon carbide crystals. It’s named after Henri Moissan, a scientist from Paris. In 1893 he discovered the crystals in a meteorite. Naturally occurring mois sanite is rare, but a way to manufacture it was devel oped in 1995.’’
‘‘Her diamond might have been any one of these.’’
‘‘You have to look at the diamond’s internal struc ture. Think she’ll let you borrow it?’’
‘‘About as much chance as a snowball’s in hell, I imagine. Although, if she thought it could help catch Chris Edwards’ killer, maybe.’’
‘‘Today, a lot of good diamonds are engraved on the girdle—on one of these tiny facets around the girth of the stone—with a serial number and a logo for where it came from. They are also fingerprinted—in a man ner of speaking. The internal structure of each dia mond is unique. People who deal in real diamonds are very concerned about distinguishing their product from the man-made variety.’’
‘‘Tell me, if these nondiamonds are so much cheaper and you have to have a special machine to tell them from the real thing...’’
‘‘Why do people pay so much for diamonds? They are the stones created a billion years ago in the bowels of the earth—the mantle, actually—and were spewed out of the earth by a volcano in molten lava. It’s the mystique, and very clever marketing by the diamond companies.’’
He picked up the diamond. ‘‘Besides, diamonds are cool stones. If the temperature and pressure had been a little less when it was being formed, we’d be writing with this in a pencil.’’
‘‘I do know that graphite is carbon, and that dia monds are formed out of carbon.’’
‘‘Did you know when light passes through a dia mond, it slows down to half its speed?’’
‘‘I would have been more impressed if it speeded up,’’ said Diane.
‘‘You’re a science fiction fan, aren’t you? So am I. Another thing we have in common.’’ Mike began putting the stones back in their marked containers. Instead of putting them back in the drawer, he set them aside in a tray. ‘‘Since they’ve been out of their boxes, I’ll check all of them to make sure I didn’t mix them up.’’ He took them back to the storage room.
‘‘I didn’t know we have such valuable gemstones,’’ said Diane, when he returned.
‘‘Kendel’s been helping to increase our number of reference gems. I tell you, if I’m ever on a scavenger hunt where my life depends on the outcome, I want that woman on my team.’’
Diane nodded and smiled. ‘‘I’ve been very pleased with her. Did she acquire the diamond we just looked at?’’
Mike nodded. ‘‘She got it out of Mrs. Van Ross. We decided to keep it in the reference collection rather than exchange it with the one on display in the rock room. The one on display is a larger diamond but not near the quality, but with the lighting it’s a little more impressive because of its size.’’
‘‘It’s on a black background, isn’t it?’’
Mike grinned. ‘‘Yep.’’
‘‘Mike, I appreciate the lesson in diamonds.’’ She stood up to go.
‘‘Have you eaten?’’
‘‘Mike...’’
‘‘Come on, Doc. You have to eat. We could eat in the museum restaurant. We’d just have to walk downstairs.’’
Diane thought for a second. ‘‘Oh, all right. I am hungry.’’
‘‘Great! Besides, I have something I need to ask you.’’
Between the sets of huge double doors at the en trance to each wing of the museum, Diane had added a new door that led down a long hallway to the restau rant that remained open after the museum closed. She and Mike took one of the elevators across from the rock room down to the first floor. It let them out at the midpoint of the hallway.
>
Photographs of pieces from the museum hung along the long walls—the inside spiral from a chambered nautilus, starfish, sea horses, seashells, rocks, minerals and gemstones, dinosaurs, wolves, butterflies, birds and flowers. A preview of what the museum offered. Diane had framed several copies for her apartment. There was nothing as peaceful and soothing to her as a seashell.
Several couples were walking down the hallway to the restaurant when Diane and Mike emerged from the elevator.
‘‘Oh, the museum is still open. Let’s go look at the jewels.’’ A dark-haired woman in a black spaghettistrap silk dress decorated with stylized white butter flies punched the UP button several times. ‘‘It’s out of order.’’ The man she was with and another couple stopped and waited.
‘‘The museum isn’t open,’’ said Diane. ‘‘This bank of elevators is locked down for the night.’’
The woman looked Diane up and down. ‘‘How did you ride it?’’
‘‘I have a key.’’
‘‘How do you get a key?’’
‘‘By being the director, Evelyn. This is Diane Fallon,’’ said the man. From the wedding rings on their fingers, Diane guessed they were husband and wife.
He shook Diane’s hand and introduced himself, his wife and friends. ‘‘You spoke at my club for lunch last month.’’
‘‘Good to see you again,’’ Diane began, but was cut off by the wife.
‘‘So, you run the museum. What about this crime lab attached to it? That is just so strange. Should you be doing that?’’
‘‘Evelyn.’’ Her husband sighed and smiled. The other couple examined the granite floor around their feet.
‘‘Well, I want to know,’’ she said, still looking at Diane for an answer.
‘‘Rosewood had a need, and I was happy to be able to help,’’ said Diane.
‘‘I’m sure, but to think of autopsies being performed at the museum while people are looking at the exhib its. That’s not going on now, is it?’’
‘‘We don’t do autopsies. They are performed at the hospital. We examine trace evidence—fibers, finger prints, that kind of thing.’’
‘‘I know I heard someone say that you examined bodies here.’’
‘‘Perhaps they meant skeletons. I’m curator of the primate skeletal collection and I’m also a forensic an thropologist. I do look at bones here.’’
‘‘Bones. I see. Well, we are so glad to have a restau rant of this caliber here, but I have to say—’’
‘‘Evelyn.’’
Evelyn ignored her husband, which, Diane imag ined, was something he was accustomed to.
‘‘I can’t say I like those computers there.’’
‘‘We have a number of students who come here and use them during the day.’’
‘‘In the restaurant? Why don’t you give them a room to do that in?’’
‘‘I’ll ask the staff to look into it,’’ said Diane.
The woman smiled brightly. ‘‘You see, Burt, it never hurts to ask.’’ They turned and walked down the hall to the restaurant.
‘‘You did that well,’’ said Mike. ‘‘I thought we were going to be stuck here in the hallway the rest of the night.’’
‘‘She just wanted me to tell her she was right,’’ said Diane.
‘‘See, that’s what I like about you. You know how to deal with things.’’
They were seated in a booth on the opposite side of the restaurant from Evelyn and Burt’s party. Diane liked the low lights and quiet of the room. She was more tired than she realized.
‘‘This is good. I was afraid we were going to be seated near that woman,’’ said Mike.
Diane eyed him over her menu. ‘‘That wouldn’t have happened.’’
‘‘Why? Oh, they always seat you away from every one else, don’t they?’’
‘‘When they can. They know I like calm with my meals.’’ She looked at the flow of restaurant customers coming in. ‘‘It looks like the restaurant is filling up quickly tonight.’’
The waitress came, and Diane ordered steak. Mike, it turned out, was vegetarian. He ordered a portobello mushroom, spinach and cheese dish.
‘‘Really,’’ he said. ‘‘You handled that well. I wouldn’t have been so patient.’’
‘‘A visitor to the museum is like a guest in my home.’’
‘‘Nice sentiment, but it’s good you know how to handle people.’’
‘‘Actually, I don’t, but I picked up a few things from my last boss, who was a diplomat. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?’’
‘‘The caving club.’’ Diane was surprised. She’d ex pected something personal.
‘‘What about it?’’ She was a member of the Rose wood Speleological Society, but she often wasn’t able to attend the meetings.
‘‘We lost our meeting place at the student center— we weren’t a big enough group. Somebody needed the space and the administration chased us out of our room. Of course, one of our more prominent members could have spoken up for us, but she doesn’t attend meetings that often.’’
‘‘We have a prominent member in the club?’’
‘‘Yeah, we do. Big director of the museum in town. Anyway, in the absence of this director, we all came up with the idea of meeting in her museum.’’
Diane nodded. ‘‘At least I would be able to attend the meetings if we met here.’’
‘‘That’s a yes, then?’’
‘‘We can meet in the main auditorium or one of the geology rooms. It would mean that you will have to meet the group at the door to let them in. I can alert the security staff to watch out for latecomers.’’
‘‘Great. I think the earth science room would be a good place to meet. We already have that small auditorium where we show the Volatile Earth series.’’
Diane hadn’t realized she was as hungry as she was until her meal arrived. She was going to have to re member to eat more. She took several bites of her fillet and baked potato before she said anything else.
‘‘I really am sorry I haven’t been able to attend more meetings.’’
‘‘I can understand, with two full-time jobs. By the way, we do have a new member. One of your staff from your other job. Neva Hurley.’’
‘‘I’m glad she joined. I encouraged her to.’’
‘‘She seemed to feel a little out of place, but I think it’s because she’s the least experienced member. I have the plan for the cave we’re visiting. It’s a great cave, really. There’s an easy way and a wild way through it. I thought we’d start with the easy way and later take a trip back and explore the wild part of the cave. That section has to be explored on rope, so it’s not for beginners.’’
Diane ate and listened to Mike talk about the cave they were going to visit. She heard the low tone of her phone ring. She fished it out of her purse and answered without looking at the display.
‘‘I thought maybe we could finish our talk. I hope I’m not interrupting your dinner,’’ the voice on the phone said.
Chapter 27
‘‘Are you watching me?’’
The interior darkness of the restaurant that had been as comfortable as a familiar blanket now closed in around her. She searched the faces of the diners nearest her, but all she could see was flickering faces illuminated by the table candles. The diners just be yond were merely shadows with spots of light, the faces swallowed up by the darkness. Diane fished a pad and pen out of her purse and began scribbling a note to Mike, who looked at her, frowning.
Frank? he mouthed.
Diane shook her head.
‘‘I’m not a maniac,’’ the voice said. The sound was
urgent—as in ‘‘please believe me.’’ ‘‘It’s around a lot of people’s dinnertime. I thought you might be eating.’’ That sounded more rational.
Diane handed Mike the note and watched his eyes widen and jaw drop as he read it in the candlelight. He jumped from his seat and walked out of the restaurant.
&nbs
p; ‘‘What exactly do you want?’’ asked Diane. ‘‘I told you. I want you to understand.’’
‘‘You say that, but you never get to the point. What
is it that you want me to understand?’’
‘‘That the law doesn’t always work. Sometimes it can’t work. Sometimes the terrible things people do aren’t against the so-called law.’’ His voice was getting louder and his words were coming faster. The rational ity that he managed to grasp a moment ago was turn ing to a panicked anger.
‘‘Okay. I understand that in theory. Can you give me an example?’’
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