Midnight Jewels

emergency. It was a wise idea."
    As Isobel turned the little helicopter back toward Gladstone's estate, Croft began worrying about Mercy's ability to interpret certain forms of subtlety. He hadn't liked the idea of leaving her behind, but he had wanted the aerial view Isobel was offering. It paid to know the terrain. Croft had also wanted a chance to discover more about Isobel Ascanius' interesting assortment of talents.
    He was satisfied with the first goal. He now had a good internal picture of the landscape surrounding Gladstone's mountain fortress.
    As for the second goal, Croft wasn't so certain. But there was no doubt that Isobel was a very formidable female.

----
Chapter TWELVE

    Mercy didn't bother to offer a protest early that evening when Croft suggested they go upstairs to dress for the lavish buffet dinner. Most of the guests had arrived in a bus that had been chartered for the occasion. They were an exotic throng that appeared to favor avant garde clothing, jagged hairstyles and vivid makeup.
    Several people had descended immediately to the pool area and the tropical garden was swarming with semi-naked and a few fully nude Adams and Eves. The laughter from the pool could be heard throughout the house.
    Dallas and Lance had taken turns ferrying the new arrivals from the first gate where the huge bus had been forced to halt. Now both of Gladstone's good looking house boys were busy mixing drinks and putting the finishing touches on the buffet.
    "I can't get over how useful Dallas and Lance are around the place," Mercy observed as Croft tugged her into their suite. "Good help is so hard to find. I must ask Erasmus where he picked up those two. I'm not sure Isobel is so useful, but then nobody's perfect. Where are we going?"
    "To take a shower."
    "Work up a sweat during your aerial tour?" Mercy asked far too sweetly.
    "Do I detect a slight waspish note?" He pulled her into the bathroom, shut the door and turned on the shower.
    "Don't blame me, I've had a hard afternoon," Mercy said.
    He leaned against the sink counter and folded his arms. "Tell me about your afternoon."
    "Well, it probably wasn't as exciting as yours, but it had its moments. I almost went to sleep in the vault."
    "Gladstone gave you another tour?"
    "Uh huh. And in the process I picked up the following information which is probably totally irrelevant and utterly useless. Gladstone doesn't have any fireplaces in this house because he's afraid of open flames. He's also rather curious about you."
    Croft's gaze sharpened. "About me?"
    "I don't think you should read too much into this, Croft, but there was a time there in the, vault when I felt so sleepy I almost dozed off. But Erasmus just kept talking. He has a very unusual voice, have you noticed? And I kept listening. I could hear him asking me questions about you. It was a weird feeling. Made me wonder what it would be like to be hypnotized."
    Croft was quietly alert. "What did you tell him?"
    "Nothing. I knew you'd throttle me if I told him a single thing about you. That alone was enough to make me careful."
    Croft smiled with cool satisfaction. "I doubt if you could betray me if you tried."
    "I don't know about that, but I found myself concentrating on his eyes, instead. I've decided they're the same color as the swimming pool when the lights are on under the water. Then I told him I wanted a glass of iced tea and he, being the gracious host he is, got it for me right quick. End of story. Frankly, I don't think it means much, but I knew you'd find all sorts of ominous clues in it. You have such a wonderfully melodramatic bent to your character. I was going to impress you by making a complete mental list of the most important tides in his collection, but that sleepy feeling got in my way. I can, however, give you some idea of at least part of his book collecting tastes." She quickly ran through me titles and authors she had had a chance to study.
    "Interesting," Croft commented when she had finished. "Definitely a different emphasis, although the materials are just as rare. Sounds like a much more generalized collection than Graves'."
    "You still mink Gladstone is Graves, don't you?"
    "My gut feeling is that they're one and the same. It all comes back to
Valley
, though. I want another look in that vault tonight."
    "Why?" Mercy demanded.
    "It intrigues me. It's the most secured place in this house. Far more secure than it needs to be. The Picasso and the Mondrian aren't given any special