Kiss Her Goodbye by Mickey Spillane Page A

were dealing with a person who had spent a lifetime in subterfuge, and was an expert at hiding and escaping or whatever was necessary to stay alive ... and he and his pouch of fabulous uncut stones never surfaced." His eyes burned into mine. "Until
now,
Michael."
    "You seem pretty damn sure of what you're saying, David."
    He nodded sagely.
    "
Why
are you sure?"
    His fingers turned the stone until I was looking at the window carved into its surface. David held the loupe out to me. I put it to my eye and drew the stone up to it. I could see, but I couldn't put it together.
    I handed the loupe back, shrugged, and he said, "There are facets that are the trademark of Basil."
    "Why isn't
it
eroded too?"
    David smiled. "That is a ... shall I say, concave cut? This you understand?"
    "The surfaces of the other stones couldn't touch it?"
    "That is right."
    "Why cut the window at all?"
    "Basil never displayed a finished work. It was ordered, paid for, then delivered. Now—what layman knows from an uncut stone? Not many. To show them what is this pebblelike thing, from which will emerge an art object of untold beauty and value, he would open up a small part of it. And even doing
that
he left his trademark. Yes, the mark of Basil—it was always there."
    "You've seen it before?"
    "No. Only fine drawings made by a master craftsman who had indeed known Basil. He was no legend, Michael—he was a man. Remarkable men do walk this earth from time to time. I would say, with no intention of embarrassing you, that you are such a man."
    "I can cut a throat, David, but not a diamond."
    "You are indeed a diamond in the rough, Michael." He shifted in his chair. "Twenty years ago, I was fortunate to be able to study two of Basil's early pieces. Remarkable. There is nothing done like that today."
    "You think Basil's dead?"
    "Wouldn't he have to be?" the old man asked. "Who lives
that
long? Even men who become legends die. This is something you might keep in mind, Michael, the next time a burst of recklessness comes upon you."
    I put the stone back in my pocket. "Thanks, David. This is helpful."
    "It is unless I have just been making all of this up. Just an old windbag trying to impress his young friend."
    "Not you, buddy."
    "Michael..."
    "What?"
    "This is trouble. Big trouble. Trouble as big as man's greed. You do
know
that?"
    "David,
that
I really know. That I can give you an expert opinion on."
    "Someday ... you will tell me more?"
    "Sure."
    "And if you should wish to put this pebble on the market, will you remember your old friend?"
    "Of course. Maybe we can get rich and retire to Florida together."
    He waved the offer away. "You may have retirement, my friend. I prefer to live."
    As I wandered through the many deals being made on that singular street, I could only think how amazed each of these merchants would be if they knew about the rough pebble in my pocket with its window into untold wealth.

    It had fallen out of her sleeve cuff.
    Things don't fall
into
a place like that, so it had to have been
put
there. And the only people who put things in the cuffs of sleeves are those who wear them.
    And now the big question...
why?
    David Gross may have put his finger on it when he asked me where the rest of the stones were. Suppose the dead girl
did
have a pouch of them? Why would she extract one, and one with a window in it?
    Come on,
I told myself,
it isn't
that
hard.
    Virginia Mathes was no heist artist. She wasn't into any part of that game at all. Somebody had used her as a patsy, dropped a fortune in uncut diamonds on her with a story to go with it, and she'd bought the lie.
    She was a suddenly recruited carrier, told just to follow instructions, but curiosity had compelled a look at what she was carrying. Not being a lapidary, she couldn't tell one pebble from another, but picked one as a sample, the one with the shiny window—maybe to take to a jeweler herself to find out what this was all about.
    Or maybe whoever she was working with only