He looked to be somewhere in his late sixties, his dark hair silvered at the temples, although his movements were full of energy, his small, wiry form still trim and upright. He had the high forehead, tight lips, and thin Gallic nose of his ancestors, French Huguenots who had fled their homeland after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes more than a hundred years before. The Francillons had plied their trade in London for generations, yet his voice still carried a faint inflection when he asked, “May I help you?”
Sebastian went to rest his hands on the counter and lean into them. “My name is Devlin. I’m looking into the circumstances surrounding Daniel Eisler’s death, and I’m interested in the large blue diamond he was selling. I understand you saw it.”
Something flickered in the depths of the Huguenot’s pale brown eyes, only to be quickly hidden when he lowered his lashes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re quite certain of that?”
“Yes.”
Sebastian let his gaze travel, deliberately, around the small shop. A variety of gems, some cut, polished, and set, others still in the rough, crowded the cases. But the walls above were filled with paintings of birds and insects and shadow boxes displaying everything from exotic beetles to enormous, brilliantly colored butterflies. Francillon might have been trained as a lapidary, but his interests obviously included all aspects of natural history.
Sebastian said, “I would imagine the prosperity of an establishment such as this relies quite heavily on its reputation for honesty and integrity. Unfortunately, a good name, once lost, can be nearly impossible to reclaim.”
“Francillon has been a respected name for over a hundred—”
“So I am told. Which is why, I should think, it would be in your best interest not to have the name of your establishment linked to a notorious incident of theft and murder.”
The tactic was heavy-handed and crude, but effective. Francillon stared back at him, his jaw set hard, his voice tight with suppressed indignation. “Precisely what do you wish to know about the stone?”
“First of all, I’m curious as to why Eisler brought it to you.”
“I was asked to prepare an illustrated sales prospectus.”
“And did you?”
“I did.”
“What exactly does that involve?”
“Generally? Tracing around the stone, weighing it, and preparing a colored rendering. In this case, both a plan and an elevation.”
“So you can describe it to me.”
“I could. However, I am not entirely convinced that I should.”
Once more, Sebastian let his gaze drift significantly around the shop.
Francillon cleared his throat. “The specimen in question was a brilliant-cut diamond of an extraordinary shade of sapphire blue, unset at the time of my inspection and weighing in at over forty-five carats.”
It was the first real confirmation Sebastian had received that such a diamond actually existed. He said, “To whom was Eisler planning to sell it?”
“I do not know. I was not made privy to that information.”
“Did he mention where it came from?”
“He did not.”
“But you have some ideas, don’t you?” said Sebastian, watching the lapidary’s face.
Francillon swallowed but remained silent.
Sebastian said, “I’m told large blue diamonds are quite rare. So rare in fact that an experienced lapidary such as yourself would surely be aware of all such gems in existence.”
“I am unaware of any forty-five-carat blue diamond in any known collections.”
“What about a collection that has been lost?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The French Blue was a large, sapphire-hued diamond, was it not? It disappeared along with the rest of the French Crown Jewels exactly twenty years ago this month. That doesn’t strike you as rather . . . coincidental?”
“The French Blue was larger—over sixty-seven carats. And of a different cut.”
“Diamonds can be recut, can’t they? It seems to me that anyone trying to sell the French Blue might well find it expedient to alter it.”
Francillon’s gaze met Sebastian’s before skittering away. “I don’t understand why you are here, asking me these questions.”
“I am here because Daniel Eisler is dead and I am beginning to believe it more and more likely that the French Blue had something to do with his murder.”
“But the authorities have already captured the man responsible!”
“They have committed a man to Newgate, yes. I don’t believe he’s guilty. And I have a fundamental objection to seeing innocent men hang.”