Devil's Eye (13 page)

“
Can we go through?”

“
I would hesitate. You know there’s a lot of construction going on. New exhibits, painting, remodeling. The union is very picky. Even if I try to open a door, they claim we’re taking work away from them.”

Laura smiled. “Oh, right! I’ve heard that before. It’s a little empire over here.”

“
No, you should see them! The union people are very protective of their turf. I don’t want any complaints filed.”

“
What about that big door there?” she asked pointing ahead. “It has no handle.”

“
That’s the door leading to the chamber where the Hope Diamond is lowered after hours. It’s right under the exhibit. Entrance is with a key card. Two, actually. Simultaneously.”

“
Oh, just like triggering a nuclear launch?” she said admiringly.

“
What do you know about nuclear launches?”

“
I saw it in the movies.”

“
Oh? Well the Hope
is
priceless, you know.”

He turned to head back towards the stairway. “You know, the gem exhibit and particularly the Hope Diamond gallery were very special projects,” the curator explained. “More than thirteen
‐
million was poured into the Hope Diamond exhibit alone. Victor Sherwyck, the presidential adviser, was a major catalyst for the enhancements. He helped raise a lot of the money. You remember the Knowltons from last night? They donated a bundle. Sherwyck, also acted as an adviser to the board in the union contracts. This is a pet project of his.”

They started up the stairs.

“
The Hope Diamond is a magnet for tourists. In fact the east and west wings of the natural history museum were constructed in the early nineteen
‐
sixties. I think it was to accommodate the increased visitations to the museum.”

“
For the Hope Diamond?” Laura ventured as they alighted the stairs.

“
I’d like to think it was for a lot of interesting things,” Carruthers said. “About a third of our new items on display were acquired after Nineteen fifty
‐
eight. But I’m sure the diamond was a focal point. Construction of the wings started soon after we got it that year.”

They reached the top of the stairs and drifted once more to the gallery displaying the Hope Diamond.

“
The display seems such a draw,” Laura observed.

“
It is a dazzling diamond. The world’s largest blue at forty
‐
five and a half carats,” Carruthers said in his expository tone. “The setting is surrounded by sixteen white diamonds, and it’s suspended from a platinum chain that has another forty
‐
six diamonds in it. The pendant is the same as when we received it.”

“
How is it blue?”

“
There are traces of boron in it. That’s what gives it the color. And interestingly enough, it radiates red phosphorescence under ultra violet light.”

“
And what gives it the curse?”

Carruthers broke into a mirthful laugh. “Come now!”

“
But that’s what draws the crowd, isn’t it?” Laura asserted. “Look, it’s in a gallery all by itself with people three deep waiting to see it up close.”

“
I must confess, Laura, that myth is a definite lure. But any bad luck to its owners was just coincidence.”

“
Marie Antoinette owned it once, and she lost her head.”

“
True,” Carruthers agreed. “The Blue was part of the French Royal Treasury and the Queen may have worn it. But, as you said yourself, Royal hunger for diamonds in general helped precipitate the Revolution, not the blue diamond itself.”

“
How do you know?”

“
Well,” Carruthers smiled. “No one really knows.”

“
So, you like to let the mystery linger?”

Alvin Carruthers kept smiling.

“
To bring in the crowds.”

“
Now, now, Laura. This is a museum, not a circus.”

Laura smiled back.

“
Anyway, I hope your concern is satisfied.”

“
I suppose,” she replied tentatively.

“
As long as I’m here, my dear, I’ll ask around. Especially the shift supervisors. And I’ll see what the police have to say about those men Chris shot.”

“
Thank you,” she replied more assuredly. “I have to get back. I have a lecture this afternoon.”

“
I’ll walk you to the elevator.” He put his arm around her and escorted her down the hall. “You look lovely as ever,” he said. “And don’t worry; I’m sure everything is fine.”

She smiled thanks.

When Laura entered the elevator, the curator blew her a kiss as the doors closed between them.

Inside stood a security guard who was repeatedly pushing a button, as if spurring the elevator to go faster. She stood next to him facing the door. Behind them was a man in workman’s overalls.

“
One please,” she requested.

The guard looked at her with a blank stare, turned his head toward the panel and pushed the button.

She noticed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said spontaneously. “There’s a blue smear on your neck. It might stain your collar.”

The man quickly rubbed his left hand behind his ear, turned and glared at her. She looked back in sudden anxiety for support from the workman behind her. He was glaring too.

The door opened and Laura Mitchell hurried out.

Chapter 14

The huge, gray cargo carrier appeared out of a late morning mist in its final approach to Ramstein Air Base after an eight hour flight. Colonel Caine and Colonel Jones stayed aboard while the flight crew was rotated and the extended range Globemaster was replenished with nearly 36,000 gallons of fuel. Even though the plane was in the center of a major military air base, its 150,000 pounds of sophisticated and secret cargo was nevertheless closely guarded. Several hours later the four oversize turbofan engines lifted the Globemaster nimbly into the air for its final leg to Israel.

By mid
‐
evening the two American officers were in the port city of Haifa in the sparsely furnished offices of General Itzhak Lovy of the Mossad—the Israeli intelligence and special operations service. Lovy operated out of a nondescript stucco building in the harbor area overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Caine and Jones saw it as an obvious front; a convenient listening post in the midst of the port where the U.S. Sixth Fleet docked on a regular basis.

General Lovy paced back and forth in front of the two Americans and stroked his reddish curly hair with a lit cigarette between his fingers. His hawk
‐
like, sun
‐
sculptured face seemed locked in intensity. General Lovy was not sure of the exact nature of the American mission, because the abrupt and urgent request for assistance from Washington had not come through the usual channels. But his professional pride did not permit him to appear too curious.

Colonel Caine looked past the General through a large window and watched the brilliant sea reflecting golden, shimmering streamers from the setting sun. He glanced at his watch, then turned to Colonel Jones.

“
We will be underway shortly, gentlemen,” General Lovy said, reading Caine’s glance at his fellow commando. After a thoughtful pause, General Lovy asked in spite of his apparent nonchalance: “Could it be that your mission is tied to the death of General Starr?”

Their quizzical look answered General Lovy’s question.

“
I’m sorry. I presumed you were aware,” the Israeli intelligence officer said.

“
General Benjamin Starr was found dead on a trail. It was late yesterday by your time.”

“
We were enroute here,” Colonel Jones said evenly. “Minimal communications.”

“
Of course,” General Lovy replied, less certain now, of his conclusions about the nature of their mission.

“
As we understand from our sources, General Starr’s death has not been officially announced as of this time.”—he paused—“There is an investigation underway. It appears there are some oddities involved.”

The American officers looked at him expectantly, but said nothing.

“
Yes. Witnesses in the area described a runaway horse with a strange hidebound saddle.

It terrified the General’s mount, which fell and crushed him. No one knows where the horse came from and no one could locate it afterwards.”

“
Where did you hear this?” Caine asked.

“
As I said, Colonel—our sources,” General Lovy answered matter of factly.

“
Odd, indeed,” Colonel Caine muttered as he rose from his chair and walked to the window overlooking the Mediterranean. He stared outside for a minute that seemed longer in its silent intensity. Then he turned to the others in the room: “I suggest we get on with it.”

By dusk they were aboard an Israeli patrol boat docked in the military area of Haifa’s harbor. Its sleek gray lines were augmented and sometimes broken by the deck mounted machine guns, small cannon, torpedo tubes, and array of antennas and radar that jutted above the superstructure.

General Lovy filled them in on details of their rendezvous as the engines of the craft rumbled in readiness to depart. “Good luck!” he intoned. He firmly shook hands with the two commandos, hurried down the short gangway to the dock, turned and saluted them. Minutes later the patrol boat was lost from view and cutting its way northward through the swells of the Mediterranean towards Lebanon. Only the receding sound of the roaring engines betrayed the fact that it was out there somewhere in the embrace of the growing night.

Below decks the two operatives checked to make sure their gear was in order after it had been transferred into torpedo
‐
like canisters for transportation under water. When they were finished, they were escorted by a sailor into a cramped mess area amidships. Both accepted an offer of coffee and settled into leather cushioned bench seats surrounding a small table. Two steamy cups were brought before them.

“
Is there anything else?” the seaman asked as his cue to leave.

“
No, thanks,” both replied.

When the sailor’s footsteps had receded, Jones raised his head slightly after taking a cautious sip.

“
That’s a shame about General Starr.”

“
Two senior officials in two days,” Caine said. “Freak accidents— if we take Lovy’s word about Starr.”

“
No reason not to.” Colonel Jones was ready to take another sip of his coffee, but set it back down. “Strange coincidence, though.”

“
What coincidence?”

“
Well, General Lovy says a strange horse freaked out the Chairman’s mount.”

“
So, he says,” Caine responded fingering the rim of his cup.

“
So, when that beam fell on Secretary Stack’s limo, one of the workers made a comment about some bird perched on the end of it.”

“
Pecking away at the cable?” Caine said dismissively.

“
No, no. That’s just why I remember,” Jones said, ignoring his partner’s glibness. “It was an insignificant detail—but the worker noticed it—even in all the excitement.”

“
I could imagine the horse,” Caine conceded. “But this bird business…”

“
If the worker noticed it,” Jones persisted, “it must have made some impression on him, even in the chaos of the moment.”

Colonel Caine did not reply. He took a sip of his own coffee, then slowly lowered the cup. He stared vacantly into the mug cradled in his palms on the galley table. He swirled the cup and watched the dancing reflection of the overhead lamp in his coffee. It reminded him of the darting bird at the White House portico that had captured his attention two days earlier.

“
Coincidence,” he said idly.

“
Hey man. Sorry!” Colonel Jones suddenly blurted. “We got serious work to do! That’s why the old man, didn’t inform us about Starr. Too much information dulls the senses.” Controlled anxiety was beginning to show on his face.