Death is Forever

loose cannon.”
    “Who is ‘they’?” Cole asked dryly. “The spooks you work for?”
    “Among others.” Windsor hesitated before continuing. “I’ve been with the CIA for thirty-two years. I’ve had to do some hard things in that time, but I’m proud of my agency, of my record, and of my country.”
    Cole made a neutral sound.
    “This is the first time in my entire career that I’ve put my own interests and those of my family ahead of the agency’s,” Windsor said simply.
    Cole sensed that the other man was telling the truth. But Cole also understood that Windsor was a trained, experienced, and skillful operator of covert schemes.
    “That’s very uplifting,” Cole said blandly. “But you’re forgetting I know what you do for a living.”
    The other man smiled grimly. “I spent a long night last night, reading and rereading your file. In some ways, the important ones, we’re a lot alike. You’ve never betrayed a friend or forgotten an enemy. I want Erin to be your friend. I want you to help her even if she won’t sell you Abe’s claims. In return I’ll do everything I can to help you. I won’t betray the agency, but I’ll cut every corner I can as long as I can—information, logistical support, whatever you want. When the time comes that Erin is ready to move on to something else, I’ll guarantee you the inside track on the sale of her claims. Just keep her alive.”
    “I’ll do what I can.”
    For an instant Windsor was furious. Then he looked at Cole’s pale crystalline eyes and realized he meant every word: He would do what he could.
    “All right,” Windsor said softly. “But there are a few things I still don’t understand about you.”
    “Do they matter?”
    “They might. How did you get hold of Abe’s will?”
    Cole shook his head.
    “That’s what I thought,” Windsor said coldly. “How can a man who prizes his independence so goddamn much belong to one of the most ruthless tongs in Asia?”
    “Easy. I don’t belong to the family of Chen.”
    “Do they know that?”
    “Not my problem,” Cole said calmly.
    “It will be if you make the mistake of thinking Erin’s interests in this are identical to the Chen family’s.”
    “I don’t give a damn about Uncle Li’s interests.”
    After a moment Windsor nodded curtly. “Good. That saves me the trouble of taking you out of the game and finding someone else to look for Erin’s diamonds, someone I’d control. There are a half-dozen good geologists in the agency.”
    “Baker is the only one who could find brown shit on a white tablecloth,” Cole said, “and he’s on loan from Con-Min. If the CIA ever really wants to find a diamond mine, give me a call.”
    Windsor smiled. “I just did, didn’t I?”
    The door opened and closed and Cole was alone in the conference room. He took a long breath, let it out soundlessly, and wondered how a much younger Erin had found the guts to go against her old man.

11
Beverly Hills
    Erin was on her way out of the hotel room when the phone rang. She answered, expecting either her father or Nan Faulkner, who had quietly insisted on coming to the meeting with Cole Blackburn. The faintly hollow sound of the connection told Erin the call was long distance even before she heard the voice of Jeffrey Fisher, her New York editor. He was her age and one of the hottest young stars in the field of art publishing. He was also so excited he could hardly speak.
    “How do you do it?” Fisher demanded. “You’re a witch, aren’t you? You cast spells on people from your den up there beyond the Arctic Circle. That’s it. You’re a sorceress. I used to think I was the only one haunted by your aloofness, but I can see you own the whole world. They’re dying to beat a path to your door and cover you with wealth and glory.”
    “Jeff, what in the name of God are you babbling about? Slow down.”
    “Slow down? No way, can’t do it, no reason to do it, and you’ll be as wild as I am when you hear what just happened. It’s the chance of a lifetime. It’s a book that will make you the most famous photographer in the world. It’s fantastic, it’s incredible. It’s…” His voice died as he searched for the word he wanted.
    “Spit it out. It’s…?”
    “Diamonds,” he said in a hushed voice.
    A chill moved over Erin. “What?”
    “Diamonds. You’ve just been invited to do a definitive—no, make that the definitive—book about the most glamorous thing on the face of the