She finally found one outside the Emergency doors, bordering the parking lot. A group of smokers variously hooked up to saline drips and other apparatus eyed her curiously. Apparently she was underdressed for the elements. She ignored them and dialed Susan’s number, using one of the quarters that had somehow stayed in her pocket. She decided not to tell Susan where she was calling from.
“Susan Sullivan.”
“Susan. It’s Kat. I know you’ve removed me from the case, but there’s something I need to talk to you about. It’s important.”
There was a long pause on the other end.
“Kat, I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I really am. I’ve got to go. I’ve got a lot of work right now with this takeover.”
“But Susan, the money’s only part of it. There’s something you need to know about Mystic Lake.”
“Honestly, Kat, I don’t have time right now to listen to one of your unfounded theories that may or may not have something to do with the missing money. Now that we have traced the money to Lebanon, we should be able to get it back. I’ve got to go now. Bye.”
We? Kat had traced it to Lebanon, not Susan or anyone else at Liberty. With Jace’s help of course, but Susan didn’t know that. How convenient for Susan to take credit for something she hadn’t done.
“Susan, please. Don’t hang up!” Kat almost shrieked into the phone. An overweight woman in the smokers group halted in mid-sentence, staring at Kat like she was a lunatic.
“You’ve got to get your ring checked, Susan. The diamond is not from Mystic Lake. I can prove it. Someone is salting the output at that mine with illicit diamonds.”
“Kat, that’s crazy. Of course it came from Mystic Lake. It was one of the first rocks out of the pipe. I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about. I really have to go.”
Kat went out on a limb. There was no way she could prove it without having Susan’s ring analyzed. But she had no choice.
“Susan, the diamond in your ring is from a mine in Africa. I have the tests to prove it.”
Silence on the other end of the line, then a click. Susan had hung up.
Kat trudged back down the hall, her bruised ribs aching with each step of the return trip. The sense of urgency was replaced with despondency. Technically she had done what she had been hired to do, even if the money hadn’t made it back to Liberty yet. Forgetting about Susan and Liberty should come as a relief. She would find a less troublesome client, one she wasn’t risking her life for. And she would have time to help Jace get the house ready for sale.
But not ending up dead was just plain lucky. Whoever was behind her accident was also responsible for the murders of Takahashi, Braithwaite, and probably Buddy. She owed it to them to find out who killed them. Billions at stake meant they would stop at nothing, and fired or not, they might still want to silence her. Someone had to catch them and ensure justice was served. Was Susan so shortsighted she couldn’t see it? Or was she complicit in the fraud?
The nurses were nowhere to be seen upon her return. She plodded into her room and was greeted by Aunt Elsie, and a strange scent she couldn’t place at first. Sandalwood.
“Aunt Elsie! You can’t burn incense in here! Put it out.”
“I can’t, dear. Once you start it, you have to let it burn down.” Aunt Elsie got up from the bedside chair and walked towards her, waving the incense stick through the air. She wore a turquoise brocade jacket with an embroidered Chrysanthemum pattern, following her latest fashion theme of all things oriental. A simple black dress and two-inch pumps completed the ensemble. It was the only area of her life where she exuded any sense of practicality, pairing vintage thrift shop finds with wardrobe basics. She maintained that any pensioner could dress like a million bucks.
“But this is a hospital. You can’t burn things! Throw it in the bathroom sink. Put it under the tap.” Kat had enough going on without getting in trouble with the medical staff. At least the hospital wasn’t trying to get rid of her.
Elsie cast a hurt glance at Kat. “I’m sorry, Kat. I’m just trying to add some ambience. This place feels so cold and institutional. I’m no Feng Shui master, but this room’s missing something. The incense takes the edge off. Here, have some tea.”
Two china cups of freshly brewed Earl Grey stood on the nightstand, and Kat decided not to ask about the logistics of that.
“Dear, I had no idea accounting was so fraught with danger. You should have gone into nursing like me.”
“Wait a sec, Aunt Elsie, didn’t your convoy get ambushed when you were in Africa?” Elsie had been a nursing educator with UNESCO before marrying Harry.
“Well, yes, but at least you know who you’re dealing with.”
Kat couldn’t see how getting shot at by someone you know was any different than a bullet from a stranger, but decided not to pursue the logic.
“Aunt Elsie, you were in Sierra Leone in the fifties—did they mine diamonds back then?” Elsie had worked there before meeting and marrying Harry.
“Yes, dear. Did I tell you Claude was a diamond merchant?”
“Really?”
Claude was Elsie’s paramour before Harry. Kat had heard a little about him, but always assumed he was with UNESCO too.
“He bought rough diamonds and sold them to the diamantaires in Antwerp. He made his money as a middleman.”
“Where did he get them from?” Kat swallowed as the piping hot tea burned the roof of her mouth. She was caught off-guard by this previously unknown tidbit of information.
“Sometimes from the mines, but mostly from individual miners. In Sierra Leone, there are lots of one-man operations, at least there were back then. Most of the diamonds were mined in the riverbeds. Placer mining is what they call it. Anyway, Claude did a good business. He provided a market for the miners, and they supplied him with product. Did I ever show you the diamond ring he gave me?”
“No. I’m sure it’s nice but I really need to know whether…”
“Oh, Kat, it’s beautiful. It will be yours one day. It’s a one-carat, brilliant-cut yellow diamond from the Kono district in Sierra Leone. Claude gave it to me just before he was shot.”
“Shot? By who?”
“An army captain. He wanted a cut, just like everyone else did. Claude refused, so he killed him.”
“He killed him? What did you do?”
Elsie wiped a tear from her eye.
“Nothing I could do. That’s when I came back home.
“Was Claude legit? Was he part of the legal trade or the black market?”
“Back then, everyone was a little of both. You didn’t have the regulations like you do now. And there wasn’t really a black market. Everything went through the same channels. It could be mined by the company during the day, or by night operators who bribed the guards to sneak in and mine at night. No one really thought of it as that way. I have some rough diamonds too. They look exactly like your rocks, as a matter of fact.”
“My rocks?”
“You know, like the ones you had with you yesterday. Just like those ones.”
“You know about those?” Kat’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe there was hope after all. “Do you know where they are?”
“Of course, dear. I’ve got them. You know how hospitals are. You leave one thing out and before you know it, it’s gone. I decided to hang onto them for safekeeping.”
“Oh, Aunt Elsie. You have no idea how important this is. Can I have them back now?”
“Yes, dear. Once you’re out of the hospital and safely home I’ll give them back to you. Now where did I put them? Hmmm. Safety deposit box or my jewelry box? I can’t quite remember right now.”
“Try to think, Aunt Elsie. Please. It’s really important.”
“I will dear, I will. It’ll come to me. Might take a few days, but I’ll remember. Things slow down a bit when you get to be my age. But it’ll come back to me. You’ll see.”
Against her better judgment, Kat decided to involve Jace and Uncle Harry even
more. She had to get the diamonds to Cindy as soon as possible. Her future depended on it.
26
Yesterday’s hospital discharge felt like ancient history, and Kat was glad to be out. Verna’s house was starting to grow on her. Tina purred next to her, and a freshly cleaned and painted kitchen held a fridge full of food, thanks to Jace.
Bowls littered the kitchen counter, filled with flour, sugar, and other ingredients, including that French cooking mainstay, butter. Every dish, utensil, and inch of counter space in the kitchen was in use, but with the kitchen’s layout it didn’t feel cluttered.
She had found Verna’s recipes while cleaning the cupboards on Monday and chose a few for her French-themed menu. Kat and Cindy had planned dinner weeks ago, before Liberty Diamond Mines, and before losing her apartment and gaining Verna’s house. It was part of their multi-faceted Paris-marathon-training plan: to do everything the French did in the weeks leading up to the race. Everything, that is, except smoking Gitanes or eating escargot.
Googling Verna had turned up nothing on the lady who, judging by her house, would have given Martha Stewart a run for her money. Jace hadn’t found out much from the neighbors either; the house had been vacant when they moved in two years ago.
Collectors of Limoges china and Julia Child cookbooks simply didn’t vanish without a trace, or lose their homes in tax sales. Collectors had too much baggage. Buying the house at the tax sale might be perfectly legal, but it felt like stealing someone else’s existence. Without knowing Verna’s reasons for disappearing, Kat could only treasure the china, the Baccarat crystal, and the century-old furniture like a temporary custodian. They couldn’t flip the house with all the treasures inside, but what to do? Like a litter of kittens, she resolved to find them good homes.
The egg timer buzzed (the clock on the stove no longer worked), and Kat donned oven mitts. She was multi-tasking—a soufflé waiting to go in the oven as soon as the French onion soup was out. A freshly tossed mesclun salad patiently awaited its vinaigrette dressing. She checked the soup and reset the timer for another ten minutes.
Cindy would arrive any minute. Marathon training meant that every second of her waking life was spent thinking about food, shopping for it, or preparing it. Of course being fired from Liberty freed her up, and today was a day where she didn’t mind the prep work one bit. No more hospital food pureed or mashed into homogenous mush. Starvation was better than that tasteless paste.
She was still waiting for the French onion soup in the oven when Cindy marched through the back door, Kat looking up just in time to see Tina shoot through the door before it closed. Cindy’s arms recaptured Kat’s attention. She was bearing gifts: a baguette, a bottle of Pinot Gris, and a bakery box that seemed like it might have a tasty dessert inside.
“Mmmmm. Smells good, Kat!” she said as she gave Kat a hug. “You don’t look any worse for wear. Did you get your car back?”
“Nope. The insurance company said it could be weeks, maybe months, before it would be pulled out of the river. So in addition to being jobless, I am now car-less!”
Cindy dropped the bags on the counter and helped herself to a stuffed mushroom cap.
“These are delicious.” She popped another one in her mouth. “Anyway, it’s cheaper not to drive. No gas, tune-ups, or car washes. Just run everywhere instead.”
“That’s kind of impractical, Cindy. I can’t just show up at places all sweaty. Besides, the running just makes me eat more. I’m spending at least as much in groceries as I was in gas.”
“Why do you always have to do a cost-benefit analysis on everything? At least you would be helping the environment. Where’s Jace?”
“Out on a search again. A cross-country skier went missing on Mount Seymour last night. He got called out at four a.m. when a patrol found the skier’s car still in the parking lot.” Jace was a member of the North Shore Search and Rescue team. Call outs always came either late at night, when family and friends reported the missing person, or very early morning, when the ski patrol noticed the car still in the parking lot.
“When will he be back?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t called, so I doubt he’ll be back in time for dinner.” A search could take anywhere from a few hours to several days. Even experienced skiers and hikers underestimated the North Shore backcountry, tricked into complacency because of its proximity to the city.
“Hope he’s back soon,” Cindy said. “I heard the avalanche risk is extreme right now.”
Kat didn’t want to think about that. Search and rescue were often put at risk to save skiers who knowingly went out of bounds in search of fresh powder. She changed the subject.
“Did you get the diamonds?” Harry was to deliver them to Cindy after Elsie finally remembered her special hiding place.
“Yes, I got them.” Cindy pulled a small glassine envelope from her purse and held it out. “Here, I want you to take them back.”
“No! You have to get them tested. I need to prove they’re dirty diamonds, Cindy. You’re the only one who can help me.”
“Not without knowing where they came from. Who gave them to you?”
“Uh, well, I can give you the details later. The fact that they’re illegal is what’s important. You want to catch criminals, don’t you? I promise you this will lead us to whoever it is.”
Kat pulled the French onion soup bowls from the oven and set them on a rack to cool slightly. The cheese was melted and nicely browned, just like the picture in the Betty Crocker book. She readied the cheese soufflé and placed it in the oven.
“And who might that be?”
“Well, I’ve narrowed it down to a few people at Liberty, but I can’t say for certain who yet. But I know the diamonds aren’t legit. I already know where they didn’t come from. You’ll tell me where they actually came from once you get the lab analysis. I’m sure they’re not from Mystic Lake.”
“But, Kat, I can’t just bring in a handful of diamonds and ask to get them tested without a reason.”
“There is a reason. I’ve got proof the numbers have been rigged, two people have been murdered, and I was next. Isn’t that enough?”
“The accident? Harry said you fell asleep driving home.”
“Not quite. A truck hit me, and if only they would pull my damn car out of the river, the damage would be evident. And before that, poor Buddy was killed. That’s when I got the nasty note. You’ve got to help me, Cindy. There’s much more going on at Liberty, but without having the diamonds analyzed, I can’t prove it.”
Cindy sighed.
“You sure about this? Because if we come up empty-handed, I’ll be in a lot of hot water for wasting precious resources. Budget restraints and all—you know the drill.”
“I know these diamonds didn’t come from Liberty. Therefore they came from somewhere else. You told me about the Kimberly Process and the certification system. Each diamond needs to have its provenance documented. Based on that, these must be illicit diamonds.”
Cindy sighed and looked at Kat in resignation as she uncorked the wine. “Okay, I’ll get them checked out. You owe me one.”
“I know. But you’ll see. And you’ll be rewarded when we catch whoever is behind this scam.”
Tina meowed at Kat’s feet. Odd, since Tina had gone outside when Cindy arrived. Maybe she had left a window open. Tina eschewed cat food, preferring people food. Kat had tried every cat food brand, but Tina simply went on a hunger strike until Kat acquiesced with whatever she was eating. Especially cheese.
Kat busied herself grating a handful of Gruyère for Tina as Cindy’s cell phone rang. Cindy dropped the diamonds on the counter and went out onto the patio to take the call. Kat was used to it; Cindy’s undercover work meant that she couldn’t let anyone else hear for both her protection and theirs.
Kat couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. She gazed out the patio door, but only saw Cindy, her back to Kat as she talked on the phone.
She pulled the French onion
soup off the cooling rack and set it on the table. She was busy slicing the baguette when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Cindy was still outside, and she wasn’t expecting Jace for at least a couple of hours, if at all.
It was Detective Platt, standing in the dining room doorway, watching her. How had he got in? She could have sworn the front door was locked. The back door was blocked by Cindy, still leaning against it as she had been a moment ago. If she weren’t awake, she would classify this as a nightmare. She decided to dispense with the niceties. This guy was beyond rude.
“Do you always barge in without knocking? What do you want?”
“Katerina, there’s no need to be impolite.”
Kat stared at him, barely able to contain herself. Had he heard them talking about the diamonds? “Tell me what you want. Ask me anything. Either charge me or clear me. I haven’t done anything wrong, and I’m tired of being treated like a criminal.”
“I want you to tell me the truth. Why did you go back to Takahashi’s house?”
“What are you talking about? Why would I go back there?”
“You tell me, Katerina. You were there Monday night. We saw you.”
“You saw me? Are you following me now? What gives you the right to harass me like this?”
At that moment she decided that not only did she dislike Platt—she hated him.
Cindy, alerted by the raised voices, caught Kat’s eye from the other side of the door. Kat motioned for her to come in.
“Answer the question, Katerina. Why were you there?” Platt’s hard blue eyes bored into hers as he crossed his arms. Evidently he wasn’t going anywhere unless Kat gave him an answer.
Cindy came inside but remained silent. Platt didn’t acknowledge her either. Instead he kept his eyes on Kat, waiting for a response.
[Katerina Carter 01.0] Exit Strategy Page 13
