She paid the taxi fare and entered the building's grand facade, her heart beating quicker than usual in anticipation. She stopped at the information desk, where an attractive young blond woman wearing an Hermes scarf knotted just so around her neck looked up at her from behind tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses.
'Vente des bijoux?' Allegra asked in French.
'The top floor,' the young woman responded in perfect English. 'The elevators are just ahead.'
'Merci,' Allegra responded. Why had she always heard Americans complain that the French insisted upon using their own language? Perhaps, she thought, when they heard her efforts, they immediately used English so as not to have to hear her butcher French. She knew her command of the spoken language was at best crude, but she was determined to use it as much as possible.
When she stepped out of the elevator a few moments later, she found herself in a hallway with several doors leading into a very large exhibition/auction room. Walking through the nearest one, she was confronted by a crowd of well-dressed, immaculately groomed men, primarily of middle age and older, and their counterparts, perfectly coiffed and designer- dressed women, primarily of a comparable age, although there were a few younger beauties.
Conversation was whispered throughout the room, and all eyes were glued to the various displays of jewelry in glass cabinets. The most important pieces were exhibited singly in glass or Lucite boxes on pedestals. Allegra knew that the ring she was looking for would be in one of these single display cases, but rather than focusing on it at once, she made a perambulation of the room, studying the displays in the less important cabinets first.
As she so often felt at auctions in New York, she was stunned by the staggering amount of the world's beautiful and costly objects that were available at any given time for those who could afford such luxuries. After a half hour or so of scrutinizing the assembled jewelry, her eyes had already taken in almost as much as she could absorb. Dazzled by the king's ransom on display, Allegra decided it was time that she had a look at the ring she would be bidding for, then register to bid.
She went to a display case where she saw an auction catalogue, and flipped through it until she saw the ring. It was lot number twenty-four. She put down the catalogue and looked around the large room. She casually moved from the display cases that contained the less expensive lots, and meandered around the room, focusing on the single displays.
Arriving at lot number twenty-four, she stopped behind a man and a woman who were looking into the case. Princess Karima's thirty-four- and-a-half-carat emerald shimmered against the black velvet on which it was set. Clearly, the princess's ring was not just any emerald. Its dark green color, clarity, and cut were the very best. Allegra thought it was probably from Colombia, though that wasn't necessarily the case. Emeralds came from mines in several countries, including India, Brazil, and Egypt. On the surface, it appeared to be perfect, but that was seldom ever true with emeralds. Flawless ones were extremely rare, and oil was commonly used in the business to fill cracks, enhance color, and hide other flaws.
Anxious to see the stone up close, she looked about for a guard with a key. Spotting one nearby, she approached him. 'Monsieur,' she said, pointing toward the display case. 'L'emeraude, s'il vous plait?'
The guard looked at her, then removed the key chain on his belt and went to the case. Allegra opened her shoulder bag and took out the suede case that held her loupe. Fortunately, the couple who had spent a long time looking at the ring had moved on, so she would be able to examine it without interference from anyone else.
The guard opened the case, took out the ring, and handed it to Allegra. She positioned the loupe in her right eye, and brought the ring toward the loupe slowly. She studied it intently for several moments, turning it this way and that with her fingers, before exhaling a deep breath. She hadn't realized that she'd been holding it until now. Removing the loupe, she continued to examine the ring as it shimmered magnificently in her hand.
She was puzzled by it, and a little uneasy for some reason, though she wasn't certain why. Something about this stone rang a little bell somewhere in the back of her brain.
One thing was certain. The emerald was not flawless. Its color and cut were perfect, but the stone itself had a flaw that no one had tried to conceal, which she thought odd. The vast majority of dealers the world over would have used oil to fill the flaw.
She replaced the loupe in her eye once more, and brought up the emerald. Focusing on the flaw, she felt a chill run up her spine, and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She'd never seen anything like it in her life.
She took one more look, then handed the ring back to the guard. 'Merci, monsieur,' she said.
'You're welcome,' he responded in English.
Allegra went back to the catalogue on the display case. She found the page with the emerald and looked at the picture. Then she looked at the copy, which mentioned the flaw. She saw that no provenance beyond that of Princess Karima was provided. Absolutely nothing.
It was as if the stone didn't exist until Princess Karima bought it. But that wasn't so odd. After all, catalogue copy often read like that, ignoring any previous owners who weren't famous, or rich, or both.
Before registering to bid at the auction, Allegra was tempted to ask to speak to one of Dufour's jewelry experts for more information about the ring's provenance. Surely they knew more than they'd published in the catalogue. But after considering such a move, she decided against it. Her mission was to bid on the emerald. That was all. And she didn't want to draw undue attention to herself by asking about the ring, either.
She could imagine the news spreading like wildfire throughout the auction house. A young woman is asking about Princess Karima's emerald. Watch out for her. One expert would tell another, word would inevitably spread to potential buyers, and all eyes would be upon her tomorrow.
She went to one of the ladies behind a display case. Another blonde. Another Hermes scarf perfectly knotted about a neck. But a scowl on her face.
'S'il vous plait,' Allegra began.
'I speak English,' the woman said, interrupting her.
'Where do I register to bid?' Allegra asked.
'On the ground floor,' the woman said. 'You will see it near the information desk.'
'Merci,' Allegra said cheerfully, despite the woman's disagreeableness, and turned and walked to the elevators. On the ground floor, she looked around and spotted the registration desk. She went to it, got the appropriate forms, and filled them out. The perfectly groomed blonde behind this desk took them, filled in some blanks, then told her, 'Vingt-neuf.'
'Excusez-moi?' Allegra said.
'You will have paddle number twenty-nine,' the young lady said irritably.
'Merci,' Allegra said, ignoring her tone. She turned and left the auction house.
She stood outside on the rue de Richelieu, breathing in the fresh air. Something still niggled at the back of her mind. Something about the flaw in the emerald. But she could not for the life of her put her finger on what it was.
She began walking down the rue de Richelieu with no destination in mind. Despite the gray skies and the brisk, chill wind, she enjoyed the splendor that was Paris. Before long, she found herself passing the Bibliotheque nationale and approaching the Palais Royal. Allegra idly wandered through arches into the garden that lay hidden within the confines of the former palace's walls. It was now bereft of green but nevertheless beautiful due to its formal structure. She decided to stroll all the way around the colonnade that lined the four sides of the garden, and was happy to discover that interesting shops lined the stone walk.
She passed a number of elegant-looking dress shops and found herself entranced by the finery exhibited in their windows. A store that sold both antique and contemporary men's vests exhibited fabrics that nearly made her swoon. Coin shops and dealers specializing in military decorations abounded, along with a few dealers in modern art. She idled in front of Le Prince Jardinier, where beautiful an
d expensive gardening tools and clothing were sold; ogled the exquisite restaurant Le Grand Vefour, one of the most expensive in Paris; and then stopped and stared into the showcase at Jules Levant Joaillier.
She had heard of the legendary Levant, of course, and had seen pieces of jewelry that he'd designed in years gone by up for auction at Sotheby's and Christie's. Lingering in front of the windows, she was stunned by the quality and lavishness of the jewelry. This was not a shop where one could purchase a relatively inexpensive trinket—a fountain pen or cigarette lighter, for instance—and then boast that it had come from Jules Levant. It sold nothing inexpensive and had never created an affordable line for those who weren't rich, like Tiffany, Bulgari, and even Harry Winston, of late. No, Jules Levant Joaillier obviously operated in the belief that there were always enough rich people to keep its doors open, without its having to stoop to serving the hoi polloi.
Allegra decided to treat herself to something more than a peek in the shop's windows, even though she knew she couldn't afford the least expensive bauble in the place. She buzzed the highly polished brass bell set in the doorframe and waited to be given entry. When she heard the door buzzer, she pushed on the door and stepped into one of the most exclusive realms in the world of jewelry.
A shop of moderate size, it was decorated in a pinkish beige that Allegra knew served as a good background for the jewelry. The air was delicately scented with a provocative aroma that conjured up the Orient. On a magnificent ormolu-embellished bureau plat, she saw an enormous vase that contained dozens of pale pink roses and white French lilacs that beckoned to her. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ornately plastered ceiling, dripping hundreds of reflective prisms. The walls were lined with cabinets and on the plush carpeting sat showcases, all filled with treasures.
As she stood there deciding where she should begin her tour of the cases, she was unaware of two men and a woman observing her on a video monitor in an office behind the salesroom.
'A window-shopper,' sniffed the woman, Madeleine de Chanterac. 'One wishes they would waste someone else's time.'
'I'll let her waste mine,' Ali Noureddin said, starting for the door.
'No,' said Ram, staring at the monitor. 'You keep busy here, Ali. I'll see to the young woman.'
He opened the office door and called out to the showroom. 'One moment, mademoiselle.'
Allegra searched for the owner of the cultured voice, but saw no one. Removing her black calfskin gloves, she walked toward a showcase and began inspecting the jewelry within it. Necklaces, bracelets, and earrings with enormous stones, beautifully set, greeted her eyes. Allegra could see why Jules Levant was legendary. The jewelry was magnificent down to the smallest piece. She knew that the shop had altered its designs very little over the years, and she could see why. The designs were classic, and the settings were of secondary importance. They were mere containers for the stunning stones they held.
'Mademoiselle?'
Startled, she looked up. On the opposite side of the display case stood one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen. His hair was the darkest black, slightly graying at the temples, his skin was like honey, and his dark eyes could be described only as liquid, bedroom eyes. His sensuous lips held a smile that made her want to smile back. And probably happily married to one of the chic, thin women that crowded Parisian sidewalks, she thought.
'Hello,' she finally said in English, forgetting to try her French.
'Ah,' the man said, smiling. 'You are American.'
'Yes,' Allegra replied. 'I'm—I'm just looking around if you don't mind. Your store is so ... so magnificent.'
The man nodded slightly. 'Thank you,' he said. 'Look around all you like. What brings you to Paris?'
'Oh, I'm just doing a little sightseeing, you know,' Allegra said.
'Ah, I see,' he said. 'No doubt you will do some shopping.'
'Maybe,' she said. 'Nothing major, though.'
'Well, if there's something here you would like to try on, don't hesitate to let me know.'
Allegra laughed. 'I don't think so,' she said. 'I'm just a poor working girl.'
'All the more reason to try a few things on,' the man replied. 'Every woman should experience wearing the world's most expensive jewels, don't you think?'
His charm disarmed her completely. 'I agree with you wholeheartedly,' she said, 'but I don't want to waste your time.'
'You never know. Perhaps someday a husband or a lover will bring you back to Jules Levant and buy something for you.'
Todd's face flashed in Allegra's mind, but she couldn't imagine him bringing her into this shop and purchasing something for her.
'I doubt it,' she said in a good-natured voice, 'but it's fun to look anyway.'
'I see you were looking at the ruby ring,' the man said, reaching down into the showcase from behind. 'This one surrounded with diamonds.' He held the ring up for her inspection. 'The ruby is 25.70 carats.'
'It's really beautiful,' she said. 'Is that a Burmese ruby? I should say, is it from Myanmar?' She reached into her shoulder bag, her fingers searching for her loupe.
'We all still think of it as Burma, don't we?' he said, looking at her quizzically. 'But how did you know? Women who wear the finest jewelry often know very little about it.'
'It's fairly obvious, isn't it?' Allegra replied. 'Most of the best rubies come from Myanmar. Plus, the color of this one is exquisite. It's not too bright, like the stones from Vietnam, Afghanistan, or Pakistan, and it's not too brown like Thai stones. It's a perfect red. At least, I think it's a perfect red.' She looked up at him and smiled. 'Plus, I've studied gemology.'
He laughed. 'What a rare creature you are.'
'Why's that?' she asked.
'It's very unusual for such a beautiful woman to take up such a study, don't you think?'
Allegra felt herself blush. 'I... well, thank you, but surely there're lots of good-looking women who study gemology.'
'I can assure you that you are wrong,' he said, smiling. 'There are a soupcon of attractive women in the business, but most of them are, shall we say, flinty-eyed?'
Allegra laughed again. 'That's probably true,' she allowed. 'Do you mind if I look at it with my loupe?'
'Not at all,' he said, handing the ring to her, 'but I can assure you before you look that the stone has not been heat-treated for inclusions. It is perfect.'
'Oh, I believe you,' she replied, bringing the stone toward the loupe in her eye. She stared into the stone, turning it in different directions, then took her loupe out and put the ring on the counter. 'This is one fantastic stone,' she said, 'and so are the diamonds that surround it.'
'Try it on,' he said.
'Oh, no,' Allegra said. 'I shouldn't '
'I insist,' Ram said gently. He picked up the ring. 'Let me have your hand.'
Allegra let him take her hand in his and immediately felt embarrassed. This simple action seemed intimate somehow.
'There,' he said. 'It's a perfect fit, and I think it looks spectacular on you. You make the ring even more beautiful than it is.'
Allegra felt herself blush again. 'You're . . . you're awfully nice to say so,' she said. 'Do you mind my asking how much this ring sells for?'
'Around a million euros,' he replied. 'Give or take a few.'
'My God,' Allegra said. 'I don't think I've ever worn anything that valuable before. Oh, well, it's a little out of my price range this week.' She laughed. 'Besides, I've always been partial to emeralds. I think they look better with my coloring.'
'You're probably right about that,' he agreed, 'and I have an emerald I would like to see on you.'
He let go of her hand and moved down to another showcase.
'No, really,' Allegra protested. 'I know you must be busy, and I've really got to get on my way.'
'First you must try on this ring,' he said. 'For me.' He looked at her. 'I must see it on your finger.'
'Well . . . okay,' Allegra said, shrugging. 'If you say so.' She had to adm
it that this was fun. Even being in the jewelry business, she didn't often get to try on pieces that sold for this much money. What was more, the man's charm and looks were magnetic, and she didn't feel a rush to leave the shop.
'Here,' he said. He held the ring in the palm of his hand with his fingers closed around it so that she couldn't see what it looked like.
When he opened his hand, Allegra gasped. 'Oh, my God,' she exclaimed. 'This is amazing. I think it's the biggest, most beautiful emerald I've ever seen.'
He looked very pleased with himself. 'Try it on,' he said. He held the ring between his thumb and a finger, ready to put it on her finger.
Allegra let him slide it on. The fit was slightly large, but no matter. Simply wearing this magnificent stone was mind-boggling. She stared down at it in quiet reflection, wondering what it would be like to be able to own something of such grandeur. To be loved by the kind of man who could afford such a gift and be thoughtful enough to buy it.
'What do you think,' the man asked, smiling patiently.
'I think it's overwhelming,' she said, looking up at him. 'The woman who will someday wear this will be a very lucky woman, I think.'
'It's a very special emerald,' he said, 'for a very special lady, and I think it's you.'
'I would like to think so, but I can't picture myself as quite this grand,' Allegra replied. She thought about the emerald she would be bidding on tomorrow, and she wished that she could share that information with him. Wouldn't he be excited to learn that she was almost certainly going to be the high bidder on Princess Karima's emerald? However, her lips remained sealed.
'I have an idea,' the man said.
'What's that?' she asked, only half paying attention as she continued to study the sight of the emerald on her finger.
'I will take you to lunch,' he said, 'and you will wear the ring there.'
'Oh, no. I couldn't,' Allegra protested.
'Oh, but you could,' he replied. 'We will simply walk a few steps around the arcade, right here in the Palais Royal, and have lunch together at Le Grand Vefour.'
Parisian Affair Page 13
