Midnight Jewels

me last time. Ultimately that was a weakness. It enabled one lone man to invade my sanctuary. He was able to use the sheer numbers of people around me as camouflage. This time I deliberately ensured that my naive assistants, as I call them, were kept at a distance. They knew nothing of then-real purpose. They had no idea of how useful they were to me. They assumed they were simply transporting their art supplies and luggage to various points around the country and the world. As for controlling them, well, artists may be an independent lot, but they have their weak points, just like everyone else. You saw them and talked to them the other night. They see me as their patron. I fund their creative efforts and most of all I make them feel special, unique, the chosen few standing at the leading edge of the art world."
    "What were you getting in return?" Croft asked as he edged the metal upright several inches to one side. There was a faint clicking sound from behind the bookshelf. He shot a quick glance at Mercy who was crouched beside him.
    "I had a rather interesting project developing, Falconer. A project that will now have to be temporarily terminated because of your interference. Thanks to my forethought this time around, however, it can soon be restarted in another location. It involved sending my proteges all over the world in search of artistic inspiration. They loved the travel, of course. It was a tremendous creative influence on them. And here and there in their travels they would make small side trips to see acquaintances of mine, fellow art patrons. Such side trips were favors to me. Paintings were often exchanged I within this worldwide community of people who were involved with art."
    "What were these traveling artists really transporting for you, Gladstone?" Croft took his hand away from the metal shelving and shook his head firmly at Mercy when she impatiently started to push against it. He lowered his voice to a whisper and said, "Not yet. If we open his escape hatch now Gladstone might get a signal telling him the security's been breached. Wait."
    Mercy stifled a groan but obeyed.
    "What do you mink my artist friends were doing?" Gladstone sounded genially amused. "Take a guess, Falconer."
    "Your connections in the Caribbean were drug related. It's your field of expertise. You might have changed your face and your name and the kind of books you collect, but there's no reason to think you've changed your way of doing business. You were a major link in the cocaine trade down in the Caribbean. Is that still your area of interest?"
    "You seem to know me very well, Falconer. How can that be? Where did you learn so much about me?"
    "I spent a lot of time researching you three years ago."
    "I'm flattered. So, it was indeed you on the island that night."
    "It was me." Croft leaned back against the wall of the vault, his arms folded across his chest. He looked bored but patient now, as if all he had to do was wait and everything would be settled to his satisfaction. "So was it drugs again this time, Graves?"
    "Yes, Falconer. Drugs. Nothing so crass or commercial as heroin or cocaine, however. Those trades are already being monopolized by others and it would have been difficult to break in again without revealing my former identity. No, this time I was carving out a unique niche for myself in the more progressive drug market."
    "The designer drug business. Wide open territory for new entrepreneurs. Was the stuff you used on me the other night an example of one of your new products?"
    "Interesting stuff, wasn't it? It needs refining, but it's almost ready. Should be very popular with those who want to get very drunk without paying the price of a hangover the next day. When we used it on you we wanted you to become so drunk that you passed out when you fell into the pool."
    "Making my death appear accidental."
    "Precisely. The wonderful thing about these so-called designer drugs, as the media has labeled them, is that they're pure laboratory creations. One does not require land for growing the basic product or vast armies of peasants for harvesting. They are the creations of technicians working with the best lab equipment. They are also infinitely variable. The molecular structure of a particular creation can be altered readily and presto, a whole new product is created. That flexibility makes it almost impossible for the authorities to track down the source. As soon as they've identified one drug it disappears