“Yes,” Hale stepped in to answer. “And last quarter, the Cleopatra Emerald was scheduled to stay safely on the other side of the world, so forgive us if we visit the subject again.” He turned to the security director. “The model on this door sensor…”
“Helix 857J,” the man said with no emotion.
“I assure you, gentlemen,” Mr. Kelly interrupted again. “We at the Kelly Corporation know exactly how valuable our emerald is, and we have taken every precaution to protect—”
“Your emerald?” Hale tilted his head. “Does everyone agree about that?”
The man flushed. “Well, of course. Who else could…”
Hale turned to Kelly, stared straight into his eyes, and said, “Tell me about Constance Miller.”
“The subject of Ms. Miller is a matter for our legal depart-ment—not security. I can assure you that the Cleopatra’s so-called history has no bearing on her safety.”
“Yes.” Hale smiled. “We heard that from the Henley too.”
“Listen here, Mr.…”
“Knightsbury,” Hale provided, but Kelly talked on.
“Constance Miller is a recluse. She’s old.”
“Does she have friends?” Hale asked.
“Friends who could help her steal an emerald ?” Kelly laughed as if it were the funniest thing he’d heard in ages. “I think not.”
“Family?”
“Yes. A grandson, I think.”
“Does she have a claim, sir?”
Kelly scoffed. “Not a legitimate one. The best courts in two countries have said so for a dozen years.”
“Twelve years is a long time to want something, Mr. Kelly.”
“Yes, but—”
“A very long time to hear no.”
But no was not a word that Oliver Kelly the Third had ever heard. To hear it for a dozen years seemed more than the young man could understand.
Kelly dropped his voice and finished, “Perhaps I should have my secretary put together a file.”
“Yes.” Hale smiled. “Perhaps you should.”
“Excuse me, miss. May I help you?”
Kat didn’t turn at the question. Two feet away, there was a case full of rubies and diamonds—a pendant rumored to have belonged to Catherine the Great and a pair of earrings featured in a movie starring Audrey Hepburn. But those things didn’t really matter to Kat. Kat was far more concerned about the one case that was empty.
“What goes in here?” she asked the salesman.
“Oh, I’m afraid that space is reserved for a very special—Don’t do that,” the man said when Kat propped one hand on the case (and fingered the hydraulic base and titanium stand with the other).
“But what is it?” Kat chomped her gum. “I might want to buy it, you know. I’ve got a birthday coming up, and my dad said I could pick out anything I want. Maybe I want what goes in here.”
She tapped the glass (and surmised that it was drill-proof and at least an inch thick).
“I’m afraid it isn’t for sale.”