Donovans 03 - Pearl Cove

getting used to the taste of indestructible lipstick. “Is Sea Gems part of the Chang family’s holdings?”
    “Sam Chang is the owner of record,” Archer said quietly, “but you have to dig a long time to find that out. The store has the best pearls in Hong Kong, which is to say some of the best pearls in the world.”
    “Both the name Sam and the name Chang are common, especially in the westernized East. Are you sure it’s the same Sam Chang? Ian’s father?”
    Archer nodded. “The old man owns and operates high-end pearl stores all over the world. Tokyo. Shanghai. Los Angeles. Manhattan. London. Paris. Rome. He was going to open up one in Moscow, too, but the ruble keeps crashing.”
    “What about your father’s company?”
    “Donovan International?”
    “Yes.”
    He shrugged. “We have offices in every country that has significant mineral reserves, if that’s what you mean.”
    In mock salute she touched the brim of the wide, floppy black hat she had picked up in the airport. “Impressive.”
    “That’s The Donovan, all right,” he said, forcing a path through the crowded sidewalk so that they could stand close to one of the many display windows. “Impressive. Like that pearl choker.”
    He stepped back just enough to let her look past him into the display window. To the right, next to a long strand of golden pearls alternating with glittering diamonds, she saw a black pearl choker. The pearls were at least eighteen millimeters, as big as the choker Archer had bought for her in Broome. After that, all similarity between the two necklaces ended. These pearls had a fine luster, an iridescent blue-black color, and a fat six-figure price tag.
    Frowning, she went in closer until she was all but pressing her nose against the glass. The city heat was so intense she couldn’t have steamed up the glass with her breath if she tried. She looked at the necklace with such concentration that the rest of reality just faded into background.
    “What do you think?” he asked after a few minutes.
    “Quite nice, despite the fact that the color match across the strand is only good, not excellent.”
    He turned, looked at the necklace appraisingly, and then at her. “Only good?”
    “Yes,” she said, not glancing away from the window. There was no hesitation in her voice. “I can’t tell from here, but I suspect that the surface isn’t quite up to the price on one or two of those pearls. If so, it would explain the less than superior color match.”
    A slow smile spread across Archer’s face. He thought of how quickly she had become a pouting tourist for the shopkeeper in Broome. He was accustomed to working alone, but he was beginning to appreciate just how useful she could be in catching pearl traders off guard.
    “Can you play the part of an ultrafussy, not-too-classy rich bitch without revealing how much you really know about pearls?” he asked.
    “You mean the kind of spoiled brat who knows what she likes, never sees it, and could find fault with God?”
    Archer laughed out loud. “Perfect.” He ran his fingertips over Hannah’s cheek in a light caress. “You’re looking for a very special black pearl necklace. You don’t know what kind, but you’ll know it when you see it.”
    “How special?” she asked.
    He shook his head, silently telling her not to mention the Black Trinity. “As long as you don’t describe right away how special the orient is, the necklace can be as special as you like.”
    “A real colorful black,” she said, deadpan.
    A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You got it. Let’s go make the manager chew his very expensive carpet. If he gets irked enough, he’ll let us into the vault in back just to show us how important he and his pearls are and how ignorant and ordinary we are. Then we’ll see how much he knows and what he’s saving for his special clients.”
    And, depending on what Archer saw or didn’t see, he would decide if it was time to put a rainbow cat among the sleek pearl pigeons.
    “How do you know this store has the really good stuff hidden in a vault?” she asked.
    “Stores like this always do. What’s in the windows is just the lure. Besides, I’ve been in the vault before. That’s where they keep their virgins,” he said, using the common name for pearls that haven’t been drilled. “Nice goods. Really nice.”
    “Will someone here recognize you?”
    “I doubt it. It’s been years.”
    He pulled out a pair of clear