What Darkness Brings

Chapter 34



T

homas Hope was supervising a couple of workmen repairing the skylight in his fifty-foot-long picture gallery when Sebastian paid a call on the banker’s Duchess Street mansion.

“I ask you,” exclaimed the little man in disgust, his mouth puckering furiously, “how difficult can it be to construct a skylight that doesn’t leak?”

Sebastian squinted up at the ornately plastered ceiling, its lavish, pale-blue-and-white-swagged medallions marred by an ugly brown stain. “I suppose that depends on how much it rains.”

Hope grunted. “Fortunately, the gallery is wide enough that none of the paintings were damaged. But look at what it’s done to the upholstery of the banquettes! And I only just had them recovered in this lovely pale blue fabric.”

“Tragic,” agreed Sebastian. “Could I speak with you a moment in private?”

“Of course,” said Hope, padding flat-footedly beside Sebastian toward the far end of the gallery. “I take it you’re still looking into the death of Daniel Eisler?”

“I am.” Sebastian hesitated. The man was so earnest and eager that it seemed the height of incivility to accuse him even of dissembling, let alone of something as sordid as murder. “I had an interesting conversation this morning with an individual who contradicted some of the things you told me the other day.”

“Oh?”

“In fact, he confirmed the information I was originally given.” Sebastian paused to rub the back of one knuckle against the side of his nose. “When one person tells me something, I generally try to keep an open mind about its veracity. But when two completely disparate individuals provide the same information, I’m inclined to believe them.”

Hope stared back at him, his eyes narrowing, his face hardening. The man might come across as affable and effete, but it would never do to forget that he owned a company that lent money to kings and emperors. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then let me be more blunt. I think the blue diamond Daniel Eisler had in his possession when he was killed was recut from the French Blue, and he was selling it for you. I can promise to try to keep the transaction private, but not at the expense of an innocent man’s life.”

Hope walked over to stand before a massive Rubens, his head tipping back as he stared up at the towering canvas. “I don’t think you quite understand what’s at stake here,” he said quietly. “This isn’t about the possibility of a legal challenge from the Bourbons. If the diamond is indeed the French Blue—and I’m not saying that it is—then it has been recut. So while there might be speculation, the association could never be proven.”

“True. But I don’t think it’s the Bourbons you’re worried about, is it?”

Hope cast a quick glance over his shoulder at the workmen on the scaffold and shook his head. His voice dropped even lower. “Napoléon Bonaparte has spent the last eight years in a determined effort to reassemble the French Crown Jewels. He sees the treasure’s loss as a blow to France’s honor, to the point that its recovery has become an obsession with him. And the most precious of all the French Crown Jewels was the diamant bleu de la Couronne. It’s why he was so determined to overrun the Duchy of Brunswick and ransack the palace—because he was convinced he’d find the French Blue there. And he was furious when he didn’t.”

“So Napoléon knows the revolutionary government bribed the Duke?”

“I doubt the world will ever know the truth of what happened at Valmy in 1792. But there have always been rumors. And one must remember that Napoléon is himself a general. I’ve heard it said that in his opinion, a bribe is the only explanation that makes sense out of what happened at Valmy. All I know is that, somehow, he found out Eisler had a large blue diamond for sale.”

“You know this for certain?”

Hope nodded. “One of his agents approached Eisler last Saturday morning.”

“Who?” asked Sebastian sharply. “Who was this agent?”

“Eisler wouldn’t say. He was very nervous, for obvious reasons. When it comes to the search for the French Crown Jewels, Napoléon has proven himself utterly . . .” Hope hesitated, as if searching for the right word, then settled for: “Ruthless.”

“Not to mention lethal,” said Sebastian. “So why not agree to sell him the stone?”

Hope gave a low laugh that rumbled in his chest. “The Emperor has a bad reputation when it comes to paying for his purchases. You’ve heard that Eisler provided the diamond necklace Napoléon presented to Empress Marie Louise as a wedding gift?”

“Yes.”

“The final payment was never made. Eisler lost a small fortune on the transaction. Napoléon’s attitude is that the honor of supplying his exalted personage should be reward enough.”

“It’s a tendency he unfortunately shares with the Prince Regent,” said Sebastian dryly.

“True. But anyone selling jewels to Prinny learned long ago to require payment up front and in cash.”

“So why not do the same with the Emperor?”

“Because Prinny’s agents don’t generally kill recalcitrant sellers and steal their merchandise. Napoléon’s do.”

“Are you suggesting that is what happened to Eisler?”

Hope gave another quick glance around. “It makes sense. Don’t you think?”

“So you’re saying the diamond is missing?”

Hope’s features contorted with a spasm of anxiety. “It is, yes.”

Sebastian studied the small man’s mobile, expressive face. “Who besides you knew Eisler had the blue diamond?”

“It’s difficult to say with any certainty. People talk. Someone obviously did, or else how did Napoléon’s agent know to approach Eisler?”

“And did this French agent know the identity of the stone’s true owner?”

“No. How could he? Unless Eisler told him.”

“Are you so certain that he did not?”

Hope looked momentarily confused. “Why would Eisler tell him?”

“In an attempt to save his own life, perhaps?”

Sebastian watched the banker suck his lower lip between his teeth as the color drained from his homely face. Taking pity on the man, Sebastian said, “If Napoléon’s agent did kill Eisler and recover the diamond, then the French would have no reason now to come after you.”

“Yes. But what if the French don’t have the diamond? What if someone else murdered Eisler and stole the gem? Or what if Eisler was murdered for some other reason entirely and Samuel Perlman now has the diamond?”

“Does Perlman know his uncle was handling the diamond for you?”

“Of course he does. I immediately laid claim against the estate for its value.”

“He’s refusing to pay, is he?”

Hope worked his mouth furiously back and forth. “He is trying.” He frowned down the length of the gallery, to where the workmen were resetting a pane of glass. Then he leaned in closer to ask quietly, “Do you think the French have recovered the diamond?”

“Actually, I’d be very surprised if they have.”

Hope looked surprised. “What makes you so certain?”

“Because I think they’re still looking for it.”