accepting folk. He gestured to a pair of club chairs covered in navy blue leather. “Sit down.”
“You’ve grown serious, Larry. What’s up?”
Larry pulled the other chair close to Jan. “This is just between us, okay?”
“Of course. Keeping secrets is my job.”
Jan was certain Larry had no idea that Jan was Mundus’s North American Master. In fact he was pretty sure Larry had never heard of Mundus, or if he had, he didn’t know what it was.
“Roman isn’t Stephen’s real name,” Larry said. “I mean, not entirely.”
“I’m listening,” Jan said.
Larry drew in a deep breath. “It’s Romanov.”
Jan looked at the general, who had now grown more serious. “It’s a common enough name…. You aren’t suggesting—”
Larry nodded. “He’s the real deal.”
“So what? There are lots of real Romanovs living today. Why is it so important that this one needs a cover name?”
“He’s not only a Romanov, he’s a direct heir—not that he wants any power, or even the Russian crown.”
“Well, that’s good, because he wouldn’t get the crown, even if he did want it.”
Jan turned his head, listening for a moment. Muted laughter from beyond the closed door made the scene between the two men oddly sinister. He shot the general a sidelong glance.
“Why are you telling me this, Larry? You’ve plenty of connections. You don’t need me to help your boyfriend if he’s got himself in a jam.”
Larry stood up. He ran his pudgy hands over his belly. “Boyfriend! Look at me, Jan. Stephen is young and beautiful. Do you really think he’d give me a second look?”
“I don’t know him. I can’t say.”
“That’s the lawyer talking. But thanks for the benefit of the doubt.”
“Well, are you going to tell me about him?”
Larry paced the room. “I don’t know where to begin, except that he’s in trouble, or at least I think he is. He’s got money pouring out of his ears, if you know what I mean. The money the Romanovs stashed before the revolution in those Swiss banks was no lie.”
“I’ve already seen the Jag parked outside.”
“How did you know it was his?”
“I didn’t until tonight. We met quite by chance on the street. Stephen caught me admiring the car. He even offered me a ride.”
“Really?” Larry said with a tinge of disbelief mixed with envy.
“Larry, can we get off the car and back to the man? What’s going on?”
The older man went to a window. Beyond the wavy glass, pale footlights illuminated the boxwood and laurel garden he’d planted upon moving into the old house. He turned and faced Jan.
“No one is supposed to know this, Jan, but Stephen’s the owner of that fucking diamond that everybody is looking for. He’s afraid the police are going to suspect the theft was a setup for insurance. Of course, it wasn’t. The man has more money than God.”
Jan took a sip of Campari. Talk about the six degrees of separation!
“What else?” Jan said. “You’re not telling me this because of a stolen bauble.”
Larry rubbed his fleshy hands together. “Jan, he’s beside himself. He doesn’t know what to do. I thought of you. You know everybody worth knowing. I—”
“Why did he buy the diamond in the first place?”
“That’s the confidential part I was referring to. I know this is going to sound crazy, but it’s for a ransom. The stone can be cut into smaller pieces. Spencer & Hillier was supposed to take possession of it and do the job. Once cut, the pieces would be untraceable. After the diamond’s breakup, he was supposed to hand the new gems over to some people. Of course S&H had no idea what’s going on, besides cutting the stone, I mean. People do that sort of thing all the time.”
Jan thought about the rash of armed muggings of gem couriers that had plagued Jeweler’s Row for months now. Bobby O’Farrell among them. Only new or unregistered stones were taken—nothing from Canada, where every stone imported or exported was
“You’ve grown serious, Larry. What’s up?”
Larry pulled the other chair close to Jan. “This is just between us, okay?”
“Of course. Keeping secrets is my job.”
Jan was certain Larry had no idea that Jan was Mundus’s North American Master. In fact he was pretty sure Larry had never heard of Mundus, or if he had, he didn’t know what it was.
“Roman isn’t Stephen’s real name,” Larry said. “I mean, not entirely.”
“I’m listening,” Jan said.
Larry drew in a deep breath. “It’s Romanov.”
Jan looked at the general, who had now grown more serious. “It’s a common enough name…. You aren’t suggesting—”
Larry nodded. “He’s the real deal.”
“So what? There are lots of real Romanovs living today. Why is it so important that this one needs a cover name?”
“He’s not only a Romanov, he’s a direct heir—not that he wants any power, or even the Russian crown.”
“Well, that’s good, because he wouldn’t get the crown, even if he did want it.”
Jan turned his head, listening for a moment. Muted laughter from beyond the closed door made the scene between the two men oddly sinister. He shot the general a sidelong glance.
“Why are you telling me this, Larry? You’ve plenty of connections. You don’t need me to help your boyfriend if he’s got himself in a jam.”
Larry stood up. He ran his pudgy hands over his belly. “Boyfriend! Look at me, Jan. Stephen is young and beautiful. Do you really think he’d give me a second look?”
“I don’t know him. I can’t say.”
“That’s the lawyer talking. But thanks for the benefit of the doubt.”
“Well, are you going to tell me about him?”
Larry paced the room. “I don’t know where to begin, except that he’s in trouble, or at least I think he is. He’s got money pouring out of his ears, if you know what I mean. The money the Romanovs stashed before the revolution in those Swiss banks was no lie.”
“I’ve already seen the Jag parked outside.”
“How did you know it was his?”
“I didn’t until tonight. We met quite by chance on the street. Stephen caught me admiring the car. He even offered me a ride.”
“Really?” Larry said with a tinge of disbelief mixed with envy.
“Larry, can we get off the car and back to the man? What’s going on?”
The older man went to a window. Beyond the wavy glass, pale footlights illuminated the boxwood and laurel garden he’d planted upon moving into the old house. He turned and faced Jan.
“No one is supposed to know this, Jan, but Stephen’s the owner of that fucking diamond that everybody is looking for. He’s afraid the police are going to suspect the theft was a setup for insurance. Of course, it wasn’t. The man has more money than God.”
Jan took a sip of Campari. Talk about the six degrees of separation!
“What else?” Jan said. “You’re not telling me this because of a stolen bauble.”
Larry rubbed his fleshy hands together. “Jan, he’s beside himself. He doesn’t know what to do. I thought of you. You know everybody worth knowing. I—”
“Why did he buy the diamond in the first place?”
“That’s the confidential part I was referring to. I know this is going to sound crazy, but it’s for a ransom. The stone can be cut into smaller pieces. Spencer & Hillier was supposed to take possession of it and do the job. Once cut, the pieces would be untraceable. After the diamond’s breakup, he was supposed to hand the new gems over to some people. Of course S&H had no idea what’s going on, besides cutting the stone, I mean. People do that sort of thing all the time.”
Jan thought about the rash of armed muggings of gem couriers that had plagued Jeweler’s Row for months now. Bobby O’Farrell among them. Only new or unregistered stones were taken—nothing from Canada, where every stone imported or exported was
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