Diamonds Are But Stone

by Peter Vollmer

  “I know just the place. The manager is a friend of mine; you can trust him. It’s not the greatest but it’s squeaky clean, the food and service is good and the bar is the best in town. It’s in Bodden Town just right for a quick getaway.”

  “Bodden Town is good,” I nodded in confirmation. “That’ll do,”

  The building was old and needed a coat of paint. The façade was typical British colonial with a large portico resting on four pillars over the wide front entrance. Above the portico, a neon sign spelt the words ‘The Colony’. There actually were two entrances, the main entrance led to the hotel’s reception, the other to a bar, which could also be accessed from the inner hotel. In contrast to the other buildings, The Colony was set slightly back from the street, and while the bed-and-breakfasts and hotels others only where provided with a narrow cobbled sidewalk, here a wide concrete pathway led from the street to the main entrance. Trees, bushes, and a few palms bordered the pathway with flowerbeds lining it, they bursting with tropical flowers in a profusion of colours. A narrow concrete road to the left of the building led to the rear where an area was set aside for parking.

  “Call me Bishop,” the taxi driver insisted. He drove to the area behind the building and took me through a back entrance to reception where he introduced me to Melville his friend.

  They whispered amongst themselves for a minute, and then Melville approached me, a tall black man dressed in white slacks and Hawaiian shirt.

  “Mr van Ansillin,” he said lending the pronunciation of my name a new meaning. “I’ve got just the room for you on de top floor. Ya’re only a few yards away from de the fire escape.” He grinned apologetically. “You don’t mind if I just call ya ‘sir’? Ya’re name is difficult.”

  “It’s fine with me.”

  “Okay mon, just give me ya’ passport and just sign here. Rules say, I have’ta keep de book.”

  I realized that he was keeping my passport.

  “I may need that in a hurry,” I protested.

  “Sure mon, I understand. Not to worry, it’ll always be right here if ya need it.”

  ”Okay,” I said dubiously, and paid up front for three days. I had to include twenty per cent accommodation tax. I also bought some phone cards from the reception. Melville snapped his fingers and a black bellhop appeared from nowhere and relieved me of my cases; he led me up two flights of stairs to the second floor, which was also the top floor.

  As Bishop had said, it was squeaky clean with a large double bed, a tiled en suite bathroom complete with bath and shower cubicle. The linen was snow white. Two large oil paintings of local scenes depicting the islands, the sea, palms, and sky adorned the whitewashed walls. Large double French doors led to a balcony that overlooked the garden on the side of the building. The bellhop placed the cases on a wooden suitcase rack and beamed me a smile when I tipped him somewhat extravagantly.

  “Thank you, boss.” It seemed all visitors were bosses in the town.

  Bishop had been standing in the doorway.

  “Boss, if you need me I’ll be down stairs; my car will remain parked in the parking area. I’ll be with Melville. He’ll keep me fed.”

  “Thanks, Bishop - I appreciate your help,” I said and he left.

  I closed the door and set the lock, throwing myself on the bed. I fell asleep within a minute.

  I awoke around nine in the evening to the sound of Jamaican music drifting up on the breeze that blew in through the open window. I got up and slightly closed the windows and returned to lie down again. I switched on the bedside light and stared up at the ceiling, contemplating the events of the last two days. It was obvious that Trichardt was onto to us and I was pretty sure that he would arrive on the island soon, if he was’nt already here.

  For the last few months, the cash and diamonds had taken up little of my time or thoughts. Now, things had changed; there were moments when I seriously doubted the wisdom of our actions and thought we had made a mistake, I even at times fleetingly considering abandoning our ill-gotten gains. But I also realized it was too late - Trichardt was not going to relent. Yes, possession was more than nine tenths of the law, but we could not go running off to the police and lay charges against him if anything happened. But neither could he. Morally, these probably belonged to him and he was out to get these back no matter what it took, and it seemed that if this resulted in a few deaths, then that was what he was prepared to risk. In fact, it was simple; whomever had possession legally owned the cash and gems.

  I swung my feet off the bed, shook my head to stop my mind wondering and stripped off my clothes. A shower, a drink and a good meal was what I needed. I also had to get hold of Maria; maybe she was already on the island. I had no idea what her movements had been during the last few days.

  I had changed into beige slacks, a colourful Hawaiian shirt I would normally not want to be seen dead in and white slip-on moccasins without socks. I hoped I looked the usual tourist, mixing financial business with pleasure.

  A drink was what I needed to start the evening and I strode into the bar, which was crowded with a mixture of tourist and locals. The sound of steel-drum Jamaican music pulsated through the room.

  There was a gap amongst the patrons at the bar. I slid onto the sole free stool, got a barman’s attention, and asked for a bottle of the local beer.

  I was just taking the first sip when there was a kiss on my cheek; I jerked round and looked into Maria’s dark eyes.

  “I wondered when you were going to come down for a drink.”

  “My God! Where on earth did you come from?” I said in shock.

  She took a stool next to me and placed her hand on my thigh.

  “Actually I’ve been here a while. I watched you arrive at the airport and saw you leave the plane with your luggage. I followed your taxi.” She lowered her voice and brought her mouth close to my ear. “I’m so glad to see you again - I missed you.”

  “How did you know when I’d arrive?”

  “Surely you haven’t forgotten who I work for?” She laughed

  “Of course. It seems I can’t do a damn thing without you knowing.” I retorted.

  “God, you don’t know how hard it’s been done having you around.”

  I was about to say something similar to her and then thought better of it, remembering my discussions with Francine. Already I was in trouble: I realized that nothing was going to be simple between this woman and me.

  “Can I get you a drink?” I asked.

  “No. Bring yours - I want to introduce you to somebody.”

  I followed her through the room to a corner table, which already had an occupant seated at it. The man was dressed in a dark suit with tie, his complexion pale, like somebody who did not often see the sun. I guessed him to be in his thirties, with dark hair, this cut short and combed straight back against his skull showing the first touches of grey. He didn’t look like and Island man.

  “This is Marcel de Haes from London,” Maria said. We shook hands.

  The man smiled. “Actually, I’m Belgium and am from Bruxelles,” he said with what seemed a mild French accent. His accent may have been French but I suddenly dawned on me that he was Flemish. He could probably understand my Afrikaans!

  As we sat, Maria took my hand under the table. I could not very well pull it away. Christ, I thought, things were developing rapidly again.

  “I’ve brought Marcel with me from Europe. We can trust him completely - I’ll personally vouch for him. I thought it best that we convert the stones to cash while we still can and get the money deposited in the bank in the Caymans. There’s no better place to keep the money.”

  I pondered what she suggested and finally agreed that it was a good idea. We would then be able to secret the monies into various accounts in our individual names.

  “How long will this transaction ta
ke before the monies are here?” I asked.

  “Mijneer, it is simple. Once I’ve valued the stones and we agree on the figure, the money can be in an account here in the Caymans within a few hours, and I will take the stones,” he said. “Be assured, Mijneer, I guarantee absolute discretion and the best price you’ll get. You will appreciate that the stones you possess are considered to be ‘blood diamonds” in the trade and there are certain restrictions on these. I’m actually, how should I put it...., guilty of improper procedure.”

  I understood. I needed no further convincing and as far as I was concerned the sooner this was finalised the better. Maria had vouched for him and I considered her commitment and integrity in this matter to be beyond reproach. I suggested that we retire to the room.

  On the way up the stairs, I asked Maria whether she had seen a South African registered Learjet on the apron. She said no.

  De Haes carried a rather large black briefcase similar to those boxes with a handle one sees lawyers with these days. Once in the room he opened this and extracted a small scale, which he set up on the long dressing table against the wall opposite the bed. He also withdrew two squares of black velvet, two long tweezers, and a special table lamp, which folded open, a calculator, a bound notepad, and two jeweller’s loupes.

  I zipped open the suitcase on the rack and withdrew the pouches containing the diamonds, placing them on the dressing table.

  “My God,” de Haes said his surprise evident. “I’ve never had to value a fortune like this in a hotel room before. This will take a while. Please be patient.”

  It took three hours for de Haes to complete his task, as he meticulously studied each stone with a loupe clamped to his eye. He then laboriously recorded the stones’ weights and took notes on their quality.

  Finally, he replaced the stones and packed his equipment back into his briefcase. Maria and I watched him in silence. He excused himself and went into the bathroom. A while later he emerged wiping his hand on a towel.

  He spoke without preamble.

  “Twenty million US, that’s my one and only offer.”

  I heard Maria gasp. I was bowled over - it was a fortune, even if we really were unable to verify the amount. If he had said fifteen our reaction would be the same!

  Maria and I looked at each other, both knowing full well that we had no alternative but to accept, circumstances being what they were.

  She nodded.

  “We accept,” I said.

  “Believe me when I say that under the circumstances this is a fair offer,” De Haes confirmed, as we all shook hands.

  “What do we do now?” I asked. I did not want to keep the diamonds any longer than was necessary, what with our friend Trichardt probably due to arrive at any moment.

  “I represent the biggest diamond corporation in the world and I can, right now, issue you an official international company receipt and a promise to deposit the amount to an account of your choosing within twenty-four hours, provided we have been furnished with the banking details,” De Haes said crisply, removing another book from his briefcase.

  Twenty million dollars on a slip of paper? We must be mad, I thought, no matter from where the man came. You don’t do that! However, before I could say anything Maria spoke.

  “That’s fine, Marcel, but you issue the receipt now, I mean a company receipt, and take the diamonds immediately. If you lose them once you’ve left here you’re bound by the receipt.”

  “Ms Garcia, all those conditions are contained in the document - you have nothing to fear. Presumably you had my company and I investigated before you chose to impart a transaction of such immense value to us?” he retorted.

  Maria nodded.

  I realized why she was so trusting - It had to be the CIA again - she’d used her work to set this up. Clever girl!

  Both de Haes and Maria left, taking the diamonds with them. Maria promised to meet me outside the Union Bank of Switzerland in George Town at nine fifteen the next morning. We all were exhausted; it was well after three in the morning.

  I must confess that once the pair had left I was filled with doubt and wondered whether I’d not just been taken!

  Bishop dropped me off at the bank and within a minute or two; Maria arrived in a taxi, dressed in a smart black and white business suit. This contrasted with my tourist attire, not that anyone seemed to notice.

  We entered the bank and went to the new accounts section where we applied to open three accounts, producing certified copies of all identification papers and passports. Gavin’s account was being opened in abstentia.I had brought the total amount of bank notes with me in the black travel case, and we instructed the bank to split the amount in three and deposit a third in each individual account. Once Maria had all the account details to hand, she requested that these be faxed to de Haes, at a number, which she provided. On receipt of these de Haes would deposit a third of the diamond transaction to each individual account. Each of us would be nearly ten million US dollars richer by the end of the day.

  We left the bank and slid into Bishop’s car. Maria immediately wrapped me in a warm, passionate kiss. I may have hesitated for a brief second, but taken up with the euphoria of the moment what with the buzz and success of our dealings, I responded.

  We were millionaires and we had done nothing illegal in the process!

  “We did it, we did it!” she shrieked.

  I grinned. I was overcome with an immense feeling of relief; apart from being rich, I no longer had to lug an unbelievable fortune around pretending that the case contained no more than my personal effects. And in addition, the spoils were no longer within Trichardt’s reach.

  “I know we did!” I replied. I did not want to say more with Bishop listening to every word.

  “Sweetheart, this calls for a celebration. How about a champagne breakfast?” she said, leaning her body against me.

  Bishop smiled happily. “I know just the place for that mon,” he said.

  Maria and I looked at each other. “Take us there,” we both said simultaneously, and then broke out in further laughter of sheer relief and joy.

  The exhilaration I felt was unbelievable; and throwing caution to the wind I extracted two hundred dollars in notes from my wallet and handed it across to Bishop.

  “Bishop,” I said. “This moment’s very special. Take your girlfriend or whoever out to-night. The treat’s on us.”

  His surprise was total.

  “What! You two are getting married?”

  We both burst out laughing again. Perhaps silly but happy.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Trichardt fumed. The police officers in the car had not been sympathetic and initially were not prepared to be persuaded, insisting that the law demanded that for an infraction such as this, they had no alternative but to arrest the occupants and impound the car. Driving on the freeway on the islands against the flow of traffic could not be overlooked, even if no accidents resulted. A good deal of wheedling and accompanied by the flash of a large amount in US dollars finally persuaded the officers to relent. They released them with a stern warning. The officers drove away with more than a month’s salary each.

  “Jesus Christ!” Trichardt shouted at nobody in particular as everyone tried hard to avoid his look. “The bastards!” Again, van Onselen and his mob have outsmarted us. What’s wrong with you people - can’t you do anything right?

  “But sir...” That was as far as Rockell got.

  “Fuck, Rockell. Don’t fucking ‘but sir’ me! This is your cock-up and you’d better start thinking fast about fixing it. The first thing you do is find out whether they all left on the plane or whether somebody decided to stay. One thing you can be certain of - their decision to refuel in the Caymans was not by chance. This is where I would’ve salted everything away in the banks if I could - it’s as close to
Swiss banking as you can get. Christ! I should have van Onselen and his partner working for me instead of having to put up with a bunch of incompetents like you!” he shouted, flecks of spittle spraying from his mouth.

  Nobody dared say a word, they all seemingly busy with something or staring out of the window at the passing scenery. The car was on its way back to the airport.

  Only when they swept into the parking area did Rockell dare speak again.

  ”I’ll go check and find out how many left on the plane,” he said and quickly stepped out of the car. The others remained seated, the engine running, and the air-conditioning at full blast. Trichardt harrumphed and then lit a cigar.

  It took twenty minutes for Rockell to return, by which time Trichardt was on the verge of losing control again.

  “What the fuck took so long?” he demanded.

  “At first the customs and tower people wouldn’t tell me anything,” Rockell said.

  “You should have paid up front. You’re an idiot - this is the bloody Caribbean.”

  Rockell tried to ignore the outburst.

  “One male stayed behind... that’s what I was told.”

  “I thought so. Now, let’s find the bastard. I’m sure it’s my friend van Onselen. This time he’s a dead man even if I don’t get my money back,” he said with the hatred and scorn of a Mafioso don whose deal has gone wrong. “Find us some guns. Gerber, if you kill him with your bare hands I’ll give you twenty thousand when we get home.” He turned to the pilot. “You stay with the aircraft and be ready for an immediate take-off even if this operation takes a few days... understand?”

  The pilot nodded his assent.

  At Trichardt’s insistence, Rockell brought a few tourist advertising brochures from the airport. Perusing these, Trichardt chose an upmarket beach hotel comprised of separate self-contained units, dotted on each side of the hotel along the length of the beach close to the shore. The main hotel building housed all other amenities, dining room, lounge, bars, and large swimming pool with bar complete with an outside parquet-floored dance area. They had hired an additional car and Gerber used this to disappear into the old town quarter. He returned hours later but in possession of three side arms, a nine-millimetre Heckler and Koch, a Star .38 revolver and another nine millimetre, a Beretta. He was shy on ammunition but nobody thought there would be much shooting. Three full magazines were considered sufficient.