"There could be another imitation," agreed Garmath, "had I chosen to manufacture two, instead of only one. But one" - he gave a dry cluck - "was all I needed. This is the genuine Star of Delhi!"
BUSY with a microscope, Crome was learning for himself that Garmath spoke the truth. He pressed a button on his desk. One of the wall panels swung about, becoming a jewel case with shelves of resplendent gems that gave a great glitter to that side of the room.
"Bah!" Crome pressed the button again, to turn the shelves away from sight. "I must have these buttons marked. I pressed the one that controls the emerald showcase, by mistake. Here is the sapphire button."
He pushed it. A block of shelves swung from another panel, creating a bluish shimmer as they came.
Hobbling over to the display, Crome compared the Star of Delhi with other large sapphires. The comparison was in favor of the great gem that Garmath had brought. Coming back to the desk, Crome planked the Star in front of him and said to Garmath:
"I want it!"
"Of course you want it," chuckled Garmath. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have made a deal with Lenfell. Let me see" - Garmath faked a tone of recollection - "what was the price he wanted? Three hundred thousand dollars?"
Garmath was simply making an estimate, for he had not heard Lenfell mention price to Crome during their phone conversation. Garmath calculated that if six smaller sapphires would have rated fifty thousand each, Lenfell certainly would not have set the price for the Star of Delhi as less than the sum of the smaller stones, had they been cut from the great gem.
Garmath's own deals with Lenfell had been strictly limited to the providing of six small synthetic sapphires; nothing more. But he wanted Crome to think that there had been a closer association.
The estimate was near enough. Early in negotiations with Crome, Lenfell had mentioned three hundred thousand dollars as a suitable price. Hence, though Crome shook his head, he did it slowly.
"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars," Crome told Garmath. "That was the most that I would have paid Lenfell. But my present offer" - he dug clawish fingers into the desk and leaned across with a triumphant grin - "is only two hundred thousand!"
Garmath's eyes showed surprise, so well feigned that Crome was deceived. His beakish face agleam, Crome gloatingly detailed why he expected the Star of Delhi at a bargain price.
"I knew Lenfell's ways," asserted Crome, "the measures that he was taking to acquire the Star of Delhi as his own. He was betraying his associates; more than that, he was actually swindling them! That, of course" - Crome shrugged - "was not my affair. It was Lenfell, not I, who had to cover up what he had done.
"Nevertheless, his failure to do so could have caused me certain difficulties, should it become known that I owned the real Star of Delhi. I insisted that Lenfell take that into consideration, and he did.
"Now, in your case, Garmath, men have not merely been swindled; they have died! Too bad" - Crome was clucking as though really sorry - "but it means that you will have to give some extra consideration to the matter of price, in selling the Star of Delhi."
Crome meant "extra" to the tune of fifty thousand dollars, which he expected to retain, at Garmath's expense, in return for silence regarding Crome's own suspicion of the murders that Garmath had maneuvered. He was reaching to a desk drawer, bringing out crisp currency in bills of a thousand-dollar denomination and higher.
"Ten, twenty, thirty -" Crome had come down to the mere thousand-dollar bills, when he finally said:
"Two hundred." He extended that sheaf to Garmath, while he put other bills away. Garmath merely folded his arms.
"My price," he said, "is half a million."
"What!" exclaimed Crome. "Preposterous!"
"Not at all," remarked Garmath mildly. "I reason rationally, not the other way about, as Lenfell did. The greater the crime, the greater the risk, and therefore - the greater the price!"
Crome swept back the money and dumped it in the desk drawer. Garmath was not at all annoyed. He simply leaned forward and added, pointedly:
"And the more certain the sale!"
THE words crept home to Crome as insidiously as the creep of Garmath's footfalls had once impressed Lenfell. Crome's hand had made an involuntary gesture toward the telephone. Garmath waved for him to complete it.
"Call the police," suggested Garmath. "Tell them that you intended to buy the Star of Delhi. When you do so, you will implicate yourself, not in five swindles, but in six murders! The police will find you, Crome, but they will not find me!"
Crome sagged back into his chair.
"No police?" queried Garmath. "Then call your loyal servants and, have them eject me, while you keep the Star of Delhi for yourself. That is as far as you would dare go, Crome, for neither you nor your servants are of sufficient grit and caliber to go through with murdering me.
"But I specialize in murder, Crome!" Garmath's tone had as snap a pronounced as the glint from his eyes.
"I, and the men in my employ. Remember that, Crome, if you do not buy the Star of Delhi. Should you buy it" - his tone was easing - "you can remember that I also give protection to those that I think deserve it."
Crome's breath came back with a great gasp.
"You mean that if I buy the Star of Delhi at your price, no one will ever know of the transaction?"
"Not through me," returned Garmath. "Moreover, should anyone learn the fact" - his chuckle became raspy - "I can guarantee that they will never tell. Whatever service you may need from me goes with the sale, as a matter of good will."
Good will from a master of evil!
The paradox struck Crome hard; nevertheless, he felt forced to take Garmath's word. His numbed expression showed that Crome was reasoning matters slowly, but he was coming to a sound conclusion.
Good will or evil, Garmath's word could be relied upon. It would have to be so; otherwise, he couldn't have kept the confidence of murderous accomplices to the extent that he undoubtedly had.
With trembling hands, Crome reached for the money drawer, brought out the cash and began to count it.
He made up a total of some three hundred and sixty thousand dollars, and looked worried about the remainder, when Garmath suggested:
"Your check will do, or - better - checks for some odd amounts, made out to cash. I understand that you often purchase jewels in amounts up to fifty thousand dollars. So keep the various checks below that sum."
Crome wrote out the checks and handed them along with the cash After counting up to the total and finding that it made exactly half a million, Garmath arose with a gratified smile. He pointed to the Star of Delhi, then gestured to Crome's showcase.
"Put it with your other sapphires," Garmath said. "You can feast your own eyes upon the prize as often as you wish. But do not let others see the Star of Delhi. I spoke of protection. I have already given it. The police do not know that the Star of Delhi still exists.
"Hence, you are quite safe - while they are looking for six sapphires, matched ones that can never be found. However, as part of our bargain, I shall call you occasionally, beginning with tomorrow night.
Good evening, Crome."
Rising, Garmath went to the door and Crome noticed the creeping sound of the murderer's departure, recalling, numbly, that his visitor had entered in the same style, though Crome hadn't regarded it as insidious, then.
A servant was outside the door; hastily covering the Star of Delhi with one hand, Crome gestured with the other, signifying for the man to show Garmath out.
When Garmath reached the ground floor, he went out by the back way, as there were two exits from the office building. His creeping walk, which he did not try to hide, echoed uncannily back through the passage, bringing shivers to the elevator man who was seated in the car with the door open.