It turned out to be even more difficult than Halston had anticipated. None of the jewelers he telephoned had anything in stock that resembled what he required. He placed advertisements in the London Times and the Financial Times, and he called Christie’s and Sotheby’s, and a dozen estate agents. In the next few days Halston was inundated with a flood of inferior emeralds, good emeralds, and a few first-quality emeralds, but none of them came close to what he was looking for.
On Wednesday Mrs. Benecke telephoned. “Old P.J.’s gettin’ mighty restless,” she warned. “Did you find it yet?”
“Not yet, Mrs. Benecke,” Halston assured her, “but don’t worry, we will.”
On Friday she telephoned again. “Tomorrow’s my birthday,” she reminded Halston.
“I know, Mrs. Benecke. If I only had a few more days, I know I could—”
“Well, never mind, sport. If you don’t have that emerald by tomorrow mornin’, I’ll return the one I bought from you. Old P.J.—bless his heart—says he’s gonna buy me a big ole country estate instead. Ever hear of a place called Sussex?”
Halston broke out in perspiration. “Mrs. Benecke,” he moaned earnestly, “you would hate living in Sussex. You would loathe living in a country house. Most of them are in deplorable condition. They have no central heating and—”
“Between you and I,” she interrupted, “I’d rather have them earrings. Old P.J. even mentioned somethin’ about bein’ willin’ to pay four hundred thousand dollars for a twin to that stone. You got no idea how stubborn old P.J. can be.”
Four hundred thousand! Halston could feel the money slipping between his fingers. “Believe me, I’m doing everything I can,” he pleaded. “I need a little more time.”
“It ain’t up to me, honey,” she said. “It’s up to P.J.”
And the line went dead.
Halston sat there cursing fate. Where could he find an identical ten-carat emerald? He was so busy with his bitter thoughts that he did not hear his intercom until the third buzz. He pushed down the button and snapped, “What is it?”
“There’s a Contessa Marissa on the telephone, Mr. Halston. She’s calling about our advertisement for the emerald.”
Another one! He had had at least ten calls that morning, every one of them a waste of time. He picked up the telephone and said ungraciously, “Yes?”
A soft female voice with an Italian accent said, “Buon giorno, signore. I have read you are interested possibly in buying an emerald, sì?”
“If it fits my qualifications, yes.” He could not keep the impatience out of his voice.
“I have an emerald that has been in my family for many years. It is a peccato—a pity—but I am in a situation now where I am forced to sell it.”
He had heard that story before. I must try Christie’s again, Halston thought. Or Sotheby’s. Maybe something came in at the last minute, or—
“Signore? You are looking for a ten-carat emerald, sì?”
“Yes ”
“I have a ten-carat verde—green—Colombian.”
When Halston started to speak, he found that his voice was choked. “Would—would you say that again, please?”
“Sì. I have a ten-carat grass-green Colombian. Would you be interested in that?”
“I might be,” he said carefully. “I wonder if you could drop by and let me have a look at it.”
“No, scusi, I am afraid I am very busy right now. We are preparing a party at the embassy for my husband. Perhaps next week I could—”
No! Next week would be too late. “May I come to see you?” He tried to keep the eagerness out of his voice. “I could come up now.”
“Ma, no. Sono occupata stamani. I was planning to go shopping—”
“Where are you staying, Contessa?”
“At the Savoy.”
“I can be there in fifteen minutes. Ten.” His voice was feverish.
“Molto bene. And your name is—”
“Halston. Gregory Halston.”
“Suite ventisei—twenty-six.”
The taxi ride was interminable. Halston transported himself from the heights of heaven to the depths of hell, and back again. If the emerald was indeed similar to the other one, he would be wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. Four hundred thousand dollars, he’ll pay. A $300,000 profit. He would buy a place on the Riviera. Perhaps get a cruiser. With a villa and his own boat, he would be able to attract as many handsome young men as he liked…