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Authors: Evelyn Anthony

BOOK: Blood Stones
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‘Don't make it too mean,' Clara said, misunderstanding on purpose. ‘We like ours strong.'

For a moment Elizabeth and James looked at each other. He gave a little smile, and David Wasserman saw it.

‘I'll take care of that,' he promised. ‘White wine for you, darling?' to Elizabeth. She nodded. Before he went to mix the drinks, he said to Clara, ‘Liz picked this apartment; the agent who showed it to her said he knew Karakov. Small world, isn't it?'

‘Very small,' Clara said. ‘Was he in the business? Connected through family maybe?'

‘His wife was,' Elizabeth volunteered. ‘They're divorced now. He was a very nice man. Jean Pierre Lasalle.'

Wasserman shook his head. ‘Don't know the name. Put him on your visiting list, Mrs Hastings. Ivan likes seeing people he knows.'

‘I already have,' she answered. ‘For himself, really. He was such a sweet man. I must admit, the more I hear about this Ivan Karakov the more curious I am.'

‘He's a megalomaniac,' David said, as he always did when the name was mentioned.

‘He's a genius,' Clara interposed. ‘Haven't you seen his designs?' She took the icy glass of dry Martini and sipped it. She glanced coolly up at James. ‘This is good.'

It sounded so ungracious that Elizabeth stiffened. Bloody woman. First the sofa and chairs and then talking to James as if he was a bloody waiter in a cocktail bar. She said in a raised voice that James recognized betokened temper, ‘Yes, I have seen them, and I don't like them at all, I'm afraid.'

‘Darling,' he was beside her very quickly. ‘Here's your wine.'

The atmosphere had chilled and it stayed at the same temperature. Clara didn't talk much. She sipped her drink and listened to the men, ignoring Elizabeth, who had decided that in the cause of peace and to avoid upsetting James, she wouldn't take any notice.

Clara Wasserman disliked her and she also disliked James. For no reason that Elizabeth could see. She sat back, feet curled up underneath her, heels digging into the upholstery because she couldn't take them off in front of the Wassermans, and kept a smile on her face. She was quite innocent of the fact that, to Clara, she appeared supercilious and rather bored by what was a fascinating conversation between her husband and Hastings.

‘Now we've got the details worked out, we'd better get down to the business,' David Wassserman said. ‘You've been here a week; you haven't been knocking on Ivan's door. So nobody thinks we're anxious. Nobody thinks we're taking them seriously. You're a young boy, James, that's your advantage. When you get to Ivan's age, you think all the young people are fools. I know; I think the same.' He laughed. He had got over his disappointment at not being given the assignment with Karakov. He could see the cunning behind Heyderman's choice, and now that he was committed, he was going to help all he could. Clara had taken it badly, and hadn't been able to cool off. She didn't like Hastings, and she was working off her resentment against the wife. She was a nice enough girl, as English girls went, and they didn't go with David Wasserman at all. Even when he was a young man he had never liked that cool Nordic type, with their long legs and small busts. He liked his own women; they had the kind of bodies women ought to have, round and warm, and the right sort of eyes, dark and full of brightness. Clara had been a beauty when he married her, soft as a ripe fig. He was pleasant to Elizabeth Hastings, because he belonged to a courteous race, but he didn't warm to English aristocrats. He had seen his wife bristle in the first five minutes.

‘Now I think the time has come for you to pay our friend a visit. Ring up and ask for an appointment, and don't get mad if he says he can't see you for a week. Ivan likes to play the king; just humour him and play along. Meantime I'll go see him and tell him he ought to see you. Then you'll get a call to come round right away.'

‘Why should I be available?' James asked.

‘You must be,' Wasserman said. ‘Drop everything. You're a young boy, all eager to do business with the great man. Flatter his ego, that's lesson number one.' He turned to Elizabeth, because the idea had suddenly struck him. ‘And he'll love you, my dear. He's got a great affection for the aristocracy. Half those god-damned jewels he keeps for show are only there because he bought them from some duchess.'

‘He's not that stupid,' Clara Wasserman said. ‘Ivan isn't the kind to fall for that kind of crap.' She said the word deliberately. Crap to duchesses. They cut no ice with her. In Clara's world you were what you made yourself; nobody gave a god-damn where you came from or who you were so long as you made the grade. The Blue Book clique didn't count; they were all millionaires, anyway, and most of them had made it out of canned meats and breakfast cereals. She didn't like Hastings, either, and she didn't trust him. He was a phoney, trying to be what he wasn't; she knew the kind. He couldn't deceive her with his English airs and his titled wife.

‘I'll call Karakov tomorrow,' James said. He looked over at Elizabeth and smiled, making reparation for Clara Wasserman's remark. She didn't smile back. He got up. ‘I think that's all for today then, David. Thanks very much for all your help. We'll put the plan into operation tomorrow. Tonight, Liz and I are going out on the town.' He put his arm round his wife and squeezed her. He was furious with Clara Wasserman.

When they had gone he turned to Elizabeth. ‘Darling,' he said, ‘I'm sorry; take no notice of the old cow.'

‘I'm not having them here again,' Elizabeth said. ‘She said that deliberately. Just being bloody rude!'

James knew she was very angry, and he didn't blame her. ‘Forget about it, darling. It's only an inferiority complex, that's all. Anyway, we're stuck with them for a bit.'

‘You may be,' Elizabeth said. ‘I'm not.'

‘Come on, sweetheart,' he begged. ‘Don't be angry with me. Let's have a nice evening together.'

‘Oh,' she said, ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you. It's just that …'

‘What is it? What's getting to you? Tell me. I know something is.' He sat beside her. ‘Ever since you went home for that birthday party you've been on edge.'

‘I know,' Elizabeth admitted. ‘But it wasn't that. I had lunch with Valerie Kruger and she went on and on about the mistakes she'd made in her marriage and telling me not to let the same thing happen to us.' She looked at him, and he was horrified to see tears in her eyes.

‘That fucking woman,' he exploded. ‘I'll ring her up and put her straight … how dare she talk to you like that!'

‘I'm sure she wasn't being bitchy; she really believed I might end up losing you. Dick was obsessed by his business, she seemed to think you were the same. And she was paranoid about Ruth Fraser. She actually told me to make you send her back to London!'

James was white with rage. ‘Did she? Did she say that? Inferring I was going to screw around like Kruger! I'm not letting her get away with this, Liz. Why the hell didn't you tell me before, instead of keeping it bottled up and worrying?' His eyes slitted. ‘She didn't mention about not having children, by any chance? I bet she did. That's what made you ask that bloody silly question the other night, isn't it?'

He was so angry Elizabeth wished she hadn't said anything about Valerie. She didn't want him blasting on the telephone. She had heard him when his temper was up, and it wasn't pleasant. She said quickly, ‘Jamie, listen. Don't get all worked up. I probably took her too seriously, and blew it out of proportion to myself. And you're not to ring her and say anything. No, darling, you're not to … I felt so sorry for her, she was pathetic. Now, please let's forget about it. It was my fault for being so stupid.'

He turned to look at her. ‘And that balls about Ruth, you're surely not worried about that?'

Elizabeth said gently, ‘No, I wouldn't listen to that, and I said so. It was more the idea of not sharing your interests enough that bothered me. And, of course, the baby thing … I know it's silly and maddening, but I promise … no more of it. If you'll promise me something. Two things.'

‘What?' he asked her. He felt so protective towards her; his rage against Kruger's ex-wife still seethed inside him.

‘Promise me you won't do anything about Valerie.'

She waited until, reluctantly, he said, ‘All right. Just this once. If she tries anything like this again—'

Elizabeth said quickly, ‘She won't. I shan't see her again. And the second promise is to tell me more about what's going on … I really want to be involved. I want to help while we're over here, not just give parties and faff around being nice to people … anyone can do that. I know how much this means to you and I want you to succeed.'

James held her closer. He didn't answer at once. He usually told her the broad outline, but always kept something in reserve. He didn't want to involve her in the fighting and the deals that had to be done for the greater good. He didn't want Elizabeth to know or to be part of something she would see as blatantly dishonest, immoral or underhand. She would view his part in it as a permanent stain on his integrity. She had no real knowledge of the jungle ethics of the business world. She wouldn't understand and she wouldn't condone. But she was right; he was going to need her help. Clara Wasserman was the tip of the iceberg. She had yet to meet Laura Karakov … He hadn't met her either, but already he'd heard about her.

‘Well,' he began, ‘I told you about Karakov doing a deal with the Russians. And Andrews going to Moscow to try and talk them out of it.'

‘Yes, I know all that,' she said. ‘I know you're supposed to make peace with Karakov and get him back into line. But the way that old man was talking it didn't sound like that. It sounded as if you were setting Karakov up in some way …' She frowned. ‘Are you?'

He laughed, dismissing it. ‘It's just the way David talks. He's a great old ham actor, always has been … No, I've got to pander to the bloody man because he thinks he's Jesus Christ in the diamond world. I've got to flatter him, let him patronize me, that sort of approach. That's what David meant. And I'll do it. I'll do whatever is necessary because if I can bring this off, I'll be in line for Managing Director of the London company. I'm going to the top in this industry, Liz, or I'm not going to stay in it at all. I've seen enough has-beens to know that second best isn't for me.'

‘I know it isn't,' Elizabeth said. ‘And I wouldn't want anything like that for you. I didn't mean that about the Wassermans. I can bite my tongue if I have to. If it's that important. Just let's try and mix them in with some other people next time.'

‘We'll do that,' James agreed. He kissed her. ‘I love you. Now go and get ready. I'm taking you to Maxims tonight.' She didn't realize till next day that he hadn't told her anything she didn't already know.

6

Ruth Fraser loved Paris. She liked the smell of the city, the opulent shops and wide tree-lined boulevards. She liked the neat little bistros where you could eat the best food in the world for the price of a steak and chips in London. It was so clean, the Parisians were proud of their city, confident in their own image. There was no visible sign of squalor apart from the homeless in doorways and crouched begging in the streets. Ruth passed them as she passed their kin in London. It was an endemic problem without a solution. She didn't feel sorry for them. She could have begged or gone on the game when she was sixteen and pregnant by her own brother. She hadn't. She'd worked. She walked past the losers in her smart clothes and kept her purse tight shut. She liked her apartment, but out of necessity she stored the single bed and crammed a double into the room to accommodate Dick Kruger. The first week she was so busy getting into James Hastings' routine and finding her way round that she didn't think of Dick except when he called. Which he did every night, rambling on about how he missed her, pumping her for information which she didn't have. She countered with questions about the London office. Arthur was in close contact with Ray Andrews. Negotiations were just beginning, but they were tough. Andrews was being asked to give away more than he wanted, but then promises were only a part of the game. Arthur was in good spirits. He'd asked Kruger to go down for the weekend and look at the design for his new boat. She had flared at him when he refused the invitation because he wanted to fly over and see her. Get your priorities right, she told him. Are you crazy? You're Arthur's man, he needs you.

Put your dick on ice, she'd snapped, and say you've cancelled your arrangements and you're coming. No, I won't see you … You go down to Arthur.

In the end he'd given way, because she was out of reach and he was too insecure to quarrel with her from a distance. What a fool, she thought, and was aware that her respect for him was shrinking. What a fool to put a fuck in front of an invitation from his boss, the one man who might still see him as a successor, especially if Ray Andrews blew it in Moscow. Then she relented and called him back, not wanting to quarrel with him either. He was her man, at the moment anyway, and they were meant to be working together.

She was sweet to him, and dripped sex down the telephone till he was mollified. The weekend after. That was a promise. And call as soon as he got back on Sunday night and tell her all about it.

She was very careful with James Hastings. She was wary, trying to get the measure of him. She was quick at judging a man's moods and she learned his method of working after a few days. He didn't waste time. He didn't like a lot of detail; he skipped the irrelevancies and honed in on the priorities. She couldn't help admiring his abilities and responding to them. By contrast, Dick Kruger was ponderous and too inclined to meddle. Hastings was polite to her, but cold. She met his attitude with brisk efficiency and unwavering good temper. She smoothed his path, from turning down unsuitable callers in the trade, hoping to get a foot in the door because he had recently arrived, to making appointments for the ones she knew he'd need to see. She had a smart outer office, adjoining his, in the big modern complex off rue de Rivoli. When he came in that morning, she was at her desk early as usual, and he was early enough. He said a brief good-morning.

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