trade in my opinion.”
“You drive a tough bargain, Monsieur Tavernier,” Louis said, his fingers still tightly wrapped around the diamond.
“I work in a tough business, Your Majesty. Diamonds do not find themselves.” All the while, Tavernier's eyes were on the jewel in Louis' hand. He suddenly felt naked without the familiar weight around his neck.
“And yet, what you request in exchange is simply preposterous,” Colbert argued, pulling at the stiff lace collar around his neck. Red blotches covered his cheeks, and his lips were drawn tight.
“Perhaps,” Tavernier nodded. “But I also know that the French monarchy has never had a jewel such as this. The crown jewels would benefit immensely from its addition.”
Louis snapped his fingers, ending their discussion. “I have made up my mind. I will have this jewel, along with the rest. And you shall have your title.”
“I am most honored, Your Majesty.”
“Colbert,” Louis ordered. “See that Monsieur Tavernier is compensated for these jewels.”
Jean-Baptiste Colbert looked at Tavernier with an icy resolve. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will ensure that Monsieur Tavernier gets exactly what he deserves.”
9
A LEX WELD DROVE WITH ONE HAND ON THE STEERING WHEEL AND THE other pressing his cell phone to his ear. “You do know how to tell a story, Dr. Mitchell.”
“Well, I have to make sure you call me again, don't I?” She sounded tired.
“Have no fear of that.”
“Good night, Alex.”
“I'll talk to you soon, Abby.”
Alex folded shut his phone and tossed it onto the passenger seat. He smiled at the windshield as he navigated traffic.
“Well, well, well, this is going to be more fun than usual,” he said to no one in particular.
Daniel Wallace, head of security, loomed inside the Smithsonian Office of Protection, glaring at a blinking red light on the console before him. “That can't be right.”
He sat before a row of closed-circuit television screens inside the computer terminus on the second floor of The Castle. The building rested like a slumbering giant in the early morning hours, undisturbed by the usual frenetic activity. He should have been home hours ago, but he had no one to go home to and little need for sleep.
“Marshall, did the motion detectors just go off in the basement?” He asked a bleary-eyed security guard working another console.
“I doubt it. Who would be in the basement at nearly one o'clock in the morning?”
“Run a check for me,” Daniel ordered. He pulled a pen from his coat pocket and clicked it with his thumb.
Blake Marshall glanced nervously at the blinking light and shook his head. He changed the video feed on the screen before him to basement footage and ran a security check on the motion sensors. “Well, I'll be,” he muttered. “Someone is in the basement.”
Daniel glanced at the clock. “When did the cleaning crew finish?”
“They coded out at midnight, and shift change isn't for another ten minutes.”
“The entire basement requires security clearance. Run the pass codes and tell me who just scanned their card.”
Marshall's fingers flew over the keyboard. “Looks like Randy Jacobs's, sir. He ran his card two minutes ago.”
A copy of Randy Jacobs's security badge appeared on the screen before them, looking just slightly less tired and overweight than he did in person. Daniel looked at it suspiciously for a moment and then unlocked a drawer beneath his desk.
“Where is he now?” he asked, rummaging through the contents.
“Let's see,” Marshall said, dragging and dropping information with his mouse. “He came in the ground-level employee entrance and took the service elevator to the basement. As far as I can tell he's in the Server Room now.”
“What do you mean as far as you can tell?”
“We have motion detectors in there but no cameras. Cards are required to enter a room, but not to exit. I can verify that he went in, but I
“You drive a tough bargain, Monsieur Tavernier,” Louis said, his fingers still tightly wrapped around the diamond.
“I work in a tough business, Your Majesty. Diamonds do not find themselves.” All the while, Tavernier's eyes were on the jewel in Louis' hand. He suddenly felt naked without the familiar weight around his neck.
“And yet, what you request in exchange is simply preposterous,” Colbert argued, pulling at the stiff lace collar around his neck. Red blotches covered his cheeks, and his lips were drawn tight.
“Perhaps,” Tavernier nodded. “But I also know that the French monarchy has never had a jewel such as this. The crown jewels would benefit immensely from its addition.”
Louis snapped his fingers, ending their discussion. “I have made up my mind. I will have this jewel, along with the rest. And you shall have your title.”
“I am most honored, Your Majesty.”
“Colbert,” Louis ordered. “See that Monsieur Tavernier is compensated for these jewels.”
Jean-Baptiste Colbert looked at Tavernier with an icy resolve. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will ensure that Monsieur Tavernier gets exactly what he deserves.”
9
A LEX WELD DROVE WITH ONE HAND ON THE STEERING WHEEL AND THE other pressing his cell phone to his ear. “You do know how to tell a story, Dr. Mitchell.”
“Well, I have to make sure you call me again, don't I?” She sounded tired.
“Have no fear of that.”
“Good night, Alex.”
“I'll talk to you soon, Abby.”
Alex folded shut his phone and tossed it onto the passenger seat. He smiled at the windshield as he navigated traffic.
“Well, well, well, this is going to be more fun than usual,” he said to no one in particular.
Daniel Wallace, head of security, loomed inside the Smithsonian Office of Protection, glaring at a blinking red light on the console before him. “That can't be right.”
He sat before a row of closed-circuit television screens inside the computer terminus on the second floor of The Castle. The building rested like a slumbering giant in the early morning hours, undisturbed by the usual frenetic activity. He should have been home hours ago, but he had no one to go home to and little need for sleep.
“Marshall, did the motion detectors just go off in the basement?” He asked a bleary-eyed security guard working another console.
“I doubt it. Who would be in the basement at nearly one o'clock in the morning?”
“Run a check for me,” Daniel ordered. He pulled a pen from his coat pocket and clicked it with his thumb.
Blake Marshall glanced nervously at the blinking light and shook his head. He changed the video feed on the screen before him to basement footage and ran a security check on the motion sensors. “Well, I'll be,” he muttered. “Someone is in the basement.”
Daniel glanced at the clock. “When did the cleaning crew finish?”
“They coded out at midnight, and shift change isn't for another ten minutes.”
“The entire basement requires security clearance. Run the pass codes and tell me who just scanned their card.”
Marshall's fingers flew over the keyboard. “Looks like Randy Jacobs's, sir. He ran his card two minutes ago.”
A copy of Randy Jacobs's security badge appeared on the screen before them, looking just slightly less tired and overweight than he did in person. Daniel looked at it suspiciously for a moment and then unlocked a drawer beneath his desk.
“Where is he now?” he asked, rummaging through the contents.
“Let's see,” Marshall said, dragging and dropping information with his mouse. “He came in the ground-level employee entrance and took the service elevator to the basement. As far as I can tell he's in the Server Room now.”
“What do you mean as far as you can tell?”
“We have motion detectors in there but no cameras. Cards are required to enter a room, but not to exit. I can verify that he went in, but I
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