“Ma, no…I am afraid it will not solve my problem.” The contessa’s voice was sad.
Halston stared at her. “Your problem?”
“Sì. As I explain, my husband is going into this new business, and he needs three hundred fifty thousand dollars. I have a hundred thousand of my money to give him, but I need two hundred fifty thousand more. I was hope to get it for this emerald.”
He shook his head. “My dear Contessa, no emerald in the world is worth that kind of money. Believe me, one hundred thousand dollars is more than a fair offer.”
“I am sure it is so, Mr. Halston,” the contessa told him, “but it will not help my husband, will it?” She rose to her feet. “I will save this to give to our daughter.” She held out a slim, delicate hand. “Grazie, signore. Thank you for coming.”
Halston stood there in a panic. “Wait a minute,” he said. His greed was dueling with his common sense, but he knew he must not lose the emerald now. “Please sit down, Contessa. I’m sure we can come to some equitable arrangement. If I can persuade my client to pay a hundred fifty thousand—?”
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“Let’s say, two hundred thousand?”
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
There was no budging her. Halston made his decision. A $150,000 profit was better than nothing. It would mean a smaller villa and boat, but it was still a fortune. It would serve the Parker brothers right for the shabby way they treated him. He would wait a day or two and then give them his notice. By next week he would be on the Côte d’Azur.
“You have a deal,” he said.
“Meraviglioso! Sono contenta!”
You should be contented, you bitch, Halston thought. But he had nothing to complain about. He was set for life. He took one last look at the emerald and slipped it into his pocket. “I’ll give you a check written on the store’s account.”
“Bene, signore.”
Halston wrote out the check and handed it to her. He would have Mrs. P.J. Benecke make out her $400,000 check to cash. Peter would cash the check for him, and he would exchange the contessa’s check for the Parker brothers’ check and pocket the difference. He would arrange it with Peter so that the $250,000 check would not appear on the Parker brothers’ monthly statement. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
He could already feel the warm French sun on his face.
The taxi ride back to the store seemed to take only seconds. Halston visualized Mrs. Benecke’s happiness when he broke the good news to her. He had not only found the jewel she wanted, he had spared her from the excruciating experience of living in a drafty, rundown country house.
When Halston floated into the store, Chilton said, “Sir, a customer here is interested in—”
Halston cheerfully waved him aside. “Later.”
He had no time for customers. Not now, not ever again. From now on people would wait on him. He would shop at Hermes and Gucci and Lanvin.
Halston fluttered into his office, closed the door, set the emerald on the desk in front of him, and dialed a number.
An operator’s voice said, “Dorchester Hotel.”
“The Oliver Messel Suite, please.”
“To whom did you wish to speak?”
“Mrs. P.J. Benecke.”
“One moment, please.”
Halston whistled softly while he waited.
The operator came back on the line. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Benecke has checked out.”
“Then ring whatever suite she’s moved to.”
“Mrs. Benecke has checked out of the hotel.”
“That’s impossible. She—”
“I’ll connect you with reception.”
A male voice said, “Reception. May I help you?”
“Yes. What suite is Mrs. P.J. Benecke in?”
“Mrs. Benecke checked out of the hotel this morning.”
There had to be an explanation. Some unexpected emergency.
“May I have her forwarding address, please. This is—”
“I’m sorry. She didn’t leave one.”
“Of course she left one.”
“I checked Mrs. Benecke out myself. She left no forwarding address.”
It was a jab to the pit of his stomach. Halston slowly replaced the receiver and sat there, bewildered. He had to find a way to get in touch with her, to let her know that he had finally located the emerald. In the meantime, he had to get back the $250,000 check from the Contessa Marissa.