A few days later de Jersey introduced the idea of setting up Dulay with a store of gold that would make him a wealthy man. He knew by now that the jeweler had been sacked for switching real diamonds and fakes, and pocketing the proceeds. Dulay had protested his innocence, maintaining that most people wouldn’t know a real diamond from a zircon.
They had both made fortunes since that meeting and agreed never to make contact again. As he closed the door behind him, Dulay’s face showed clearly that he was very wary, if not afraid, to see Philip Simmons again. Dulay wore well-fitting black trousers and black shoes with white socks. His thinning hair fell to the shoulders of his collarless black shirt. Now he ran his stubby fingers through it. “Well, Philip, it’s been a long time,” he said.
Smiling, de Jersey shook hands. “Maybe fifteen years.”
“More. Can I offer you a glass of champagne?”
“No, thank you. Can we be overheard here?”
“No.” Dulay bent down behind the desk and opened a small fridge that was hidden behind it. “Do you mind if I do?” He took out a half bottle of champagne, then replaced it with vodka. As he poured, his hands shook so much the glass rattled against the bottle. After the Frenchman gulped down his drink, he poured himself more vodka. “To… old times,” he said softly. “Please, take a seat. Why are you here?”
“Possible business deal,” de Jersey said.
“I am legitimate now, Philip. I have a good business and a good life here, and I don’t want to lose it.”
De Jersey shifted his weight. “You married?”
“Again? Yes, I am, we have three kids. We live in a wonderful old farmhouse on the outskirts of town, which we’ve spent years renovating. You?”
“I have my lady friends.”
Dulay cocked his head to one side. “Apart from the other business, you were in real estate when we first met.”
“You have a good memory.”
“Well, I am not likely to forget you.” Dulay unscrewed the top of the vodka bottle again. “Please don’t draw me into anything.”
“I have never forced anyone into doing anything,” de Jersey said.
Dulay opened a leather cigar box. De Jersey refused, watching Dulay’s shaking hands pick up a long panatela, cut off the end, and light it. The blue haze of smoke circled his head like a halo.
“Have you ever seen the Koh-i-noor Diamond?” de Jersey asked.
“Yes.”
“What do you know about it?”
“It’s the biggest in the world.”
De Jersey’s hands indicated the size of the diamond. “When it arrived in England it weighed 186.1 carats and was set in a kind of armlet. It was recut in Prince Albert’s time. At that point it went down in weight to 105.6 carats.”
“I didn’t know that,” Dulay said quietly.
“You ever seen the Imperial State Crown? It contains over three thousand precious stones-sapphires and rubies that would make a joke out of your display windows. Costs almost twelve quid nowadays just to see them. I’ve been a frequent visitor over these past few weeks.”
Dulay said nothing. When de Jersey stared at the man, he smiled weakly back. “It’s a massive operation, but I know it’s possible.”
“You’re insane!” Dulay said hoarsely.
“You would not be involved in the insane part, just the aftermath. Just think about having access to those stones. Surely it must excite you.”
“It scares the living daylights out of me. Even to contemplate it is insanity. I won’t get involved. Even at the so-called safe end. It took years of planning and dealing and living on a knife’s edge to melt down that gold bullion and distribute it.”
“Yes, and you were fucking brilliant. You designed some spectacular pieces in eighteen-carat gold-bracelets, necklaces, earrings, rings.”
Dulay’s brow poured with sweat.
“And you were never found out. Even with the larger items: hubcaps and other motor vehicle accessories. You’re expert with gems, and cutting is your specialty.”
Dulay nodded. He had spent many months in South Africa before they met, being taught by the old De Beers masters.
“I look around, Paul, and see that you are doing very well.” De Jersey gestured expansively. “With all that gold and your knowledge of diamonds, you produced some of the finest exhibitions in Europe, and now this chic little shop right next to the Ritz. Great location. I congratulate you.”
“Thank you. But it’s taken hard work, Philip. My name-”
“Your name. Yes. For the last fifteen years your name has been synonymous with class and beauty. Your work is featured in Vogue and Elle; your jewels are worn by the rich and famous. See? I have followed your career with interest, my friend.”
“I’ve opened a Paris shop, in the Avenue des Beaux-Arts.”
“Close to Chanel, YSL, Christian Dior, and Cartier. Very good position again. Is it doing well?”
“The usual teething problems.”
De Jersey plucked at the crease in his trouser leg. “Any way you look at it, though, Paul, the gold bullion, used sparingly over the years, has made all of this possible.”
“I am legitimate now, Philip. I want to stay that way.”
“But you weren’t always so straight. You laundered tons of gold bullion for me,” de Jersey said.
“It aged me ten years. If I got involved in this jewel heist, it would kill me.”
De Jersey collected his thoughts. “If it aged you then, you’re looking good now. Must be the great lifestyle.”
“I don’t need any more, Philip. I’m looking to retire in a few years. I’ve got responsibilities.”
“Understood. No hard feelings.” De Jersey stood abruptly and offered Dulay his hand. “I protected you. You would have nothing if the Colonel hadn’t taken care of you. You never had to live life looking over your shoulder because there was never so much as a hint of your involvement in the bullion robbery. That is what the Colonel promised you. That was his deal.”
“Philip, I have always appreciated it. I mean, I would do anything within reason, but what you are asking is-”
“Just a possibility at the moment,” de Jersey interrupted. “Until I have more details. But, as in the old days, I like to be prepared, and you were top of my list. You weren’t the only fence for the gold bullion. And you are not the only craftsman I’d trust with gems of this size and value, but as we had a good relationship, I came to you first, to give you this chance.”
“Thank you. It goes without saying you can trust me.”
“I always have.”
“Good. No hard feelings, then?”
“No hard feelings.”
Dulay crossed to buzz open the security lock on the side door.
“Do you have a workroom here?”
“Yes, at the back. Would you like to look around it?”
“I think I would, thank you.”
Feeling less pressure, Dulay was quite animated as he led de Jersey down a narrow corridor into a large back room. There were two steel vaults, which held all of the gems, and at the rear was a small kiln for melting down gold, silver, and platinum. A white-coated lapidary was hard at work at a long trestle table on which equipment for cutting the stones was laid out. He was shaping a magnificent pink diamond.
“This is my pride and joy. It’s a piece that’s been commissioned by Prince Rainier.” Dulay crossed to the table. “The tiara had been in their family for generations, but the band was bent and the stones loose, so we’re resetting and replacing a few missing ones.” He held up the work in progress. “It’s a beautiful piece but intricate work. The filigree between the stones is so old and fine it’s very easily broken off. To match the design and make it sturdier is not as easy as it sounds. I’m making platinum bars first, then coating them in eighteen-carat gold so it’ll have more strength and durability. The fire in the diamond is astounding.”