Rarities Unlimited 04 - The Color of Death

porcupine.
    “Three hugs.”
    “You drive a mean bargain.” Kate set down the intense yellow rough and picked up the empty coffee carafe. “I’ll be back with more coffee. You want something to eat?”
    Sam thought about it and realized that lunch hadn’t had muchappeal for him. Talking to the Mandels had been tougher than he expected. Probably because Mrs. Mandel had sounded so much like Kate.
    And then Sam tried not to wonder if Lee had sounded like his father. If the half brother had had Kate’s quickness and courage. If—
    “Sam? You hungry?”
    He wasn’t, but he knew he should eat something besides coffee grounds or he wouldn’t be much good to anybody. “Is the rest of my lunch sandwich still in the kitchen?”
    “Does the garbage disposal count as ‘in the kitchen’?”
    “How about some chips?”
    “How about some fruit, cheese, crackers, and a nap before dinner?”
    Sam didn’t answer, because Kate had thrown the last question over her shoulder before she disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. He picked his cell phone up from beside the computer and punched in the number for Jeremy Baxter’s hotel room. Sooner or later he’d get lucky and catch the man changing clothes or using the john.
    “Hello?”
    “Jeremy Baxter?” Sam asked.
    “Yes.”
    Sam pulled a big yellow pad closer and picked up a pen. “This is Special Agent Sam Groves of the FBI,” he said. “I have some questions about seven blue sapphires called the Seven Sins.”
    “What’s this about?”
    “I’m not free to say at this time.”
    Silence, a sigh, and a soft curse. “They were stolen, weren’t they.”
    “I’m not free to say.”
    Baxter hesitated.
    “If you have any doubt about my identity,” Sam said, “go to the big black motor coach in the employee parking lot, knock on the door, and ask for Doug Smith. He’ll show you credentials and vouch for me.”
    The sound of ice rattling against a glass came over the line. Samcould visualize Baxter thinking and swirling the contents of a near-empty drink.
    “Okay,” Baxter said. “But I don’t know how I can help you. I don’t know anything about the stones besides the name and the fact that Art McCloud owns them. I never got to see them once they were cut.”
    “Do you know anyone who did?”
    “Art and whoever appraised them for insurance purposes. And the woman who cut the stones, of course.”
    The FBI had already vetted the insurance appraiser back to the sixth grade and come up with nothing, but Baxter didn’t need to know that.
    Kate’s vetting had been even more thorough.
    “What about fellow collectors,” Sam said, “friends, girlfriends, anyone?”
    Ice rattled against glass again. “Art has friendly competitors, not friends. As for family, I never met any outside of the newspapers. Girlfriends? I’ve never heard any gossip about any,”
    The FBI had, but none lately and certainly none who’d had hard feelings about their severance pay.
    “How about unfriendly competitors?” Sam asked.
    “Oh, he pissed people off by having more money than a Saudi prince. But no one was laying for him that I know of. It just irritated us that he could outbid us without really thinking about the bank account. Thank God all he liked were sapphires and occasional rubies.”
    “Did you bid against him for the rough that was cut into the Seven Sins?” Sam asked.
    “Yes, for all the good it did me.”
    “Who else was in the bidding?”
    Kate walked in as Sam started writing quickly on the legal pad she used to make notes about whatever piece of rough she was working on. She set food and coffee near the pad.
    He reached for the coffee. Phone tucked between shoulder and ear, he sipped coffee and wrote and asked questions. “Who handled the rough?”
    “CGSI. Colored Gem Specialties International. Anything else? I have an appointment in a few minutes.”
    “I’m trying to pin down a show that was held the second week in November.”
    “There were several. Cut gems or rough?”
    “Which ones did you attend?” Sam asked without missing a beat.
    “Only the one in Fort Worth that featured Russian estate jewelry. Amazing goods. Really amazing. Of course, they knew what they had. I only bought a few old emeralds. Basilov cleaned up.”
    “He was there?”
    “Hell, he put the thing together and got some guys in from Singapore and Hong Kong who still had money. Like I say, he cleaned up. The Asians are finally getting into colored stones for