Midnight in Ruby Bayou (9 page)

At the rate the planet was being carved up into gem fiefdoms, Donovan Gems and Minerals would be lucky to be selling “cultured” turquoise in a few years.

“What's on your mind, Walker?” Archer said. “And don't bother with that shit-kicking country-boy shuffle. I saw through it the first time you cleaned me out at poker.”

Walker managed not to smile. “Have you thought about the ruby resale market?”

“The Thais don't leave much room for anyone else to make a profit. Not in America, anyway. We just won't pay as much for quality rubies as the rest of the world will.”

“I've been thinking about that. There's another way to end-run the Thais.”

“I'm listening.”

“Mine old jewelry instead of old mines,” Walker said simply. “Buy estate jewelry from all over the world, take out the good stones, recut them if necessary, and sell them loose. You should be able to have a nice little high-end business, because you can guarantee Burmese rubies that haven't been heat-treated. That's about as rare these days as a natural pearl.”

For a time Archer was silent. “Is there that much old jewelry floating around for sale?”

“Gems have always been an aristocrat's savings account. Think about all those centuries of European and Russian and Middle Eastern royalty. Think about all those nasty revolutions, wars, and financial crashes. Think about the cold economics and even colder economies of the former Soviet Union. Yeah, there are lots of family jewels for sale. Some of them are well worth buying.”

“Interesting idea.” Archer looked out at the wind-whipped bay. “Any idea how to go about getting a handle on this resale market?”

“Faith's friends—the ones who sent her the rubies she's working on—might be a good place to start.”

Archer glanced at the door to his office. On the other side of it would soon be a sister he loved very much. A sister who was mad enough right now to scalp him with a dull knife. “Yeah, she mentioned something about those rubies. Said you stole them.”

“Road apples. She wouldn't come with me and I wasn't going to leave rubies like that in the belly drawer of a bench in an unlocked shop in Pioneer Square.”

“If I sit here long enough, you'll tell me something useful.”

“The rubies Faith's friends sent her are fine,
fine
stones.”

Archer's black eyebrows went up. “How good?”

“The best I've seen outside of museums and royal treasuries.”

At first a soft whistle was Archer's only answer. Then, “How much are they worth?”

“Retail?”

“Wholesale.”

“Every cent of the million she's trying to get them insured for. A lot more, in my opinion. A big Burmese ruby that hasn't been heat-treated is more valuable than any other gemstone on earth, including diamonds.”

“So what's the problem with getting insurance?”

“The GIA appraisers are backed up. They can't guarantee getting the job done in time for Faith to set the rubies and polish the necklace up before the Savannah show. The insurers won't sign on unless the GIA folks certify the rubies' worth. No one wants to underwrite what might be a scam.”

“What kind of scam?”

“The usual. Fake appraisal, fake gems, fake theft, real insurance claim paid off in real cash.”

“These rubies came from friends of Faith.”

Walker thought about how very dead you could get trusting friends you hadn't seen in a while. He had trusted the man who sent him into ambush. An old friend.

“Whatever,” Walker said. “Even if you could get the gems appraised through an approved lab fast enough for the Savannah show, a lot of appraisers are too young to recognize natural Burmese rubies on sight, or even after a bunch of tests. Appraisal is almost as much art as science. You need a natural eye or wide experience to catch the nuances. There aren't that many real, natural, high-quality Burmese rubies floating around.”

“But Faith's rubies are real, natural, and high-quality.” Though Archer said nothing more, there was a question buried in his words.

Smiling, Walker reached down and began to unload the contents of the carton he had carried in. In short order he set up a binocular microscope, a polariscope, and an ultraviolet light on the low coffee table in front of the couch. Then he pulled out several small boxes. Among them was the one containing the gem packets that he had taken from Faith's shop.

The intercom on Archer's desk buzzed, Mitchell trying to sound a warning. A second later the door to the office opened.

Walker didn't even look up. He already knew that the lady in the black cashmere slacks, ice-blue silk blouse, and black cashmere blazer was mad enough to take chunks out of his hide and never mind the taste of blood.

“I'm over thirty,” Faith said angrily, “I own my own business, and I don't need one of your house apes standing over me like an older brother.”

“Hello to you, too,” Archer said.

“House ape?” Walker asked under his breath.

“The stage at which boys become teenagers with more height than couth,” Archer explained.

Walker gave his boss a sideways look. “
Uncouth,
I've heard of. You sure
couth
is a word?”

“Yes,” Faith said. “Somehow I'm not surprised you've never heard the word.”

“I suppose ol' road apples was a mountain of couth,” Walker said, turning back to his equipment.

“Ol' road apples?” Archer asked, one black eyebrow cocked.

Red burned on Faith's high cheekbones. “Never mind.”

“Her fiancé,” Walker said.

Archer laughed out loud.

“My ex-fiancé,” Faith said through her teeth. “Big difference.”

“The only one that matters,” Archer agreed. “Did you come to hear Walker's explanation of why I should insure those rubies for a million bucks?”

For two seconds Faith thought about how satisfying it would be to grab the rubies and walk out without a word. Then she thought about how dumb that would be. She needed insurance. Archer could provide it. But her brother was a businessman. He wouldn't insure a pig in a poke, even for his sister.

“I came because the instant Walker left my shop with those rubies, they were effectively uninsured,” she said evenly. “While I'm certain he's competent enough flying an airplane, most crime in Seattle takes place on the ground.”

Though she said nothing more, she looked at the cane resting against the coffee table.

The suggestion that Walker wasn't fit for security duty seemed to amuse Archer. He was surprised that his sister couldn't see the gutter fighter disguised in casual clothing. But then, few people did. Being underestimated was one of Walker's most valuable assets. It allowed him to talk his way out of situations that other men would try to handle with a gun.

“I'll be responsible for the rubies while they're in Walker's care,” Archer said.

“But not while they're in mine?” Faith retorted.

“Do you want them insured or not?”

“Of course I want them insured.”

“Then let our resident ruby expert explain to me why I should accept his valuation. Because I sure as hell won't do it on the word of some South Carolina dandy who happens to have a jewelry store in the family.”

“Don't worry,” Walker said. “The gems are real.”

“Of course they are,” she said.

“Archer is just being careful,” Walker said soothingly. “Comes of having to do business with countries where the old order gave way to new criminals.”

“Since when has Donovan International done business with criminals?” she asked her brother.

“You have a touching trust in elected politicians,” Walker muttered.

She ignored him.

“If you want to do business in what was once the Soviet Union,” Archer said, “and Donovan International does, one way or another you deal with the various
mafiyas
.”

“They must be making a lot of long spoons in Russia today,” she said dryly.

Archer gave a crack of laughter.

Smiling, Walker looked up at Faith. “Sure enough. Folks who sit down to eat with the devil don't want to get their pinkies burned.”

She blinked, surprised at the change a simple smile made in his looks. Not that he didn't usually smile, but this one was different. She couldn't say just how it was different. Warmer, maybe, like the one he gave Summer.

The idea that Walker genuinely enjoyed her sense of humor both surprised and charmed Faith. It was like being with her family.

“Exactly,” she said, grinning back at Walker. Then she realized what she was doing and stopped. She was supposed to be angry, but it was hard when she was smiling. She groaned. “Now I see why fraternizing with the enemy isn't allowed.”

“I'm not the enemy, sugar.”

“That remains to be seen,
sugar
.”

“There you go,” he said. “See, we've already reached an understanding, exchanging pet names and all. Next thing you know, we'll be setting a date to get matching leg shackles.”

Faith shook her head in exasperation. Walker must have been taking lessons from her brothers. It was hard to stay angry at him.

Smiling, Walker bent over the microscope and finished positioning the first gem. “Ready for a thumbnail education on rubies, Archer?”

“I'm always ready to learn.”

“That was the second thing I noticed about you,” Walker said.

“What was the first?” Faith asked.

“That your brother hadn't come up against a better poker player in a long time.”

“You're better than Archer?”

“Hate to admit it, but it's true,” Archer said. “We got grounded by weather out beyond the Brooks Range in Alaska, looking for the Alaskan version of those Canadian diamond mines. By the time the storm cleared, I was down to my Jockey shorts and the parka he lent me at an exorbitant interest rate.”

“It's the drawl,” Walker said, focusing the microscope with great care. “Gets you Yankees every time. Y'all believe something so soft and slow just has to be dumb as a stump.”

Faith snickered and looked at her older brother. If he had any hard feelings about being trounced at poker, they didn't show. He was smiling and shaking his head at the memory.

“Okay, boss,” Walker said, straightening. “Take a look.”

Archer sat on the couch, leaned over, and looked. After a few moments he asked, “What about those cloudy patches?”

“They're called ‘silk' in the trade,” Walker said. “Or if you want to be technical, they're tiny exsolved inclusions. Too many and you have an opaque stone.”

“ ‘Silk' works for me.”

“Works for the color, too,” Walker said, “if you have just the right amount. See, when it comes to faceting, rubies are touchy. If you cut the facets too deep or too shallow—and Thai cutters do it all the time to get the maximum carat weight from each piece of rough—then you get windows and extinction along some of the facets.”

Faith came around the table and peered down at the tiny, intense scrap of red Archer was examining through the binocular lenses of the scope. She couldn't see the inclusions with her unaided eye.

Archer could see them, but not the rest of what Walker was talking about. “Windows? Extinction?” Archer asked. “Try it in English. Pearls are my specialty, not hard stones.”

“Windows happen when light just goes through a faceted gem without being refracted,” Walker explained. “The stone becomes a windowpane. The result is a pale spot in the gem where the window is. Extinction is when light coming into the stone escapes out the side rather than being refracted back into the center. It makes a dark spot. What you want is an even distribution of color. With rubies, it's a bitch kitty to get.”

Coming closer, Faith leaned past Walker to look at the ruby glowing like a live ember in the steel grasp of the microscope. She put her hand on her brother's shoulder and nudged, but he didn't take the hint.

Walker didn't move either. He just savored the warmth and scent of Faith standing inches away from him. Then he dragged his thoughts back to the rubies.

“A good cut minimizes extinction,” Walker said, “but nothing stops it. It's just the way rubies are. The beauty of Burmese rubies, and what makes them so valuable, is that their natural silk transmits light to facets that might otherwise dim out because of extinction. The result is a softer ‘feel' to the color. It's warm and velvety, like a woman's mouth.”

Faith gave him a startled look, but he didn't seem to notice.

“Don't Thai rubies have silk?” Archer asked.

“Not like Burmese rubies from Mogok. Nothing does. Even the really good Vietnamese rubies. Great color, but every faceted stone shows dark areas of extinction, no matter how carefully they're cut. Here. Look at this through the loupe.”

Archer shifted his attention to a faceted red gem Walker held in a pair of long tweezers. When Archer used the loupe on the stone, he saw that not all facets were equally bright, equally red. Viewed by itself, the stone was still quite beautiful. But compared to the Burmese ruby . . .

There was no comparison. Once you had seen a high quality Burmese ruby, the others were simply cut red stones.

“When you add the Burmese ruby's natural fluorescence,” Walker said, “you've got the gem of fables, the stone that glows with its own internal light. It's
alive
. There's nothing in the world like it, nothing at all.”

The certainty and passion in his voice made Faith take a long look at him. She felt the same way when she finished a sketch that she knew would create beauty out of a handful of metal and stones. There was no high to equal that. The memory of that exhilaration kept her going even when everything else in her life was flat. The idea that Walker could feel that depth of emotion about anything was both surprising and intriguing.