The lights went out again. The alarm bell rang, and the steel shutters slammed down once more.
A woman in the crowd cried, “Let’s get out of here, Harry.”
“Will you just shut up, Diane?” her husband growled.
In the basement downstairs, Jeff stood in front of the fuse box, listening to the cries of the tourists upstairs. He waited a few moments, then reconnected the switch. The lights upstairs flickered on.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the guide yelled over the uproar. “It is just a technical difficulty.” He took out the key again and inserted it into the wall slot. The steel shutters rose.
The telephone rang. The guide hurried over and picked it up. “Hendrik, here. No, Captain. Yes. We will have it fixed as quickly as possible. Thank you.”
A door to the room opened and Jeff came in, carrying the tool case, his worker’s cap pushed back on his head.
He singled out the guide.
“What’s the problem? Someone reported trouble with the electrical circuits.”
“The lights keep flashing off and on,” the guide explained. “See if you can fix it quickly, please.” He turned to the tourists, a forced smile on his lips. “Why don’t we step over here where you can select some fine diamonds at very reasonable prices?”
The group of tourists began to move toward the showcases. Jeff, unobserved in the press of the crowd, slipped a small cylindrical object from his overalls, pulled the pin, and tossed the device behind the pedestal that held the Lucullan diamond. The contrivance began to emit smoke and sparks.
Jeff called out to the guide, “Hey! There’s your problem. There’s a short in the wire under the floor.”
A woman tourist screamed, “Fire!”
“Please, everybody!” the guide yelled. “No need to panic Just keep calm.” He turned to Jeff and hissed, “Fix it! Fix it!”
“No problem,” Jeff said easily. He moved toward the velvet ropes around the pedestal.
“Nee!” the guard called. “You can’t go near that!”
Jeff snrugged. “Fine with me. You fix it.” He turned to leave.
Smoke was pouring out faster now. The people were beginning to panic again.
“Wait!” the guide pleaded. “Just a minute.” He hurried over to the telephone and dialed a number. “Captain? Hendrik, here. I’ll have to ask you to shut off all the alarms; we’re having a little problem. Yes, sir.” He looked over at Jeff. “How long will you need them off?”
“Five minutes,” Jeff said.
“Five minutes,” the guide repeated into the phone. “Dank je wel.” He replaced the receiver. “The alarms will be off in ten seconds. For God’s sake, hurry! We never shut off the alarm!”
“I’ve only got two hands, friend.” Jeff waited ten seconds, then moved inside the ropes and walked up to the pedestal Hendrik signaled to the armed guard, and the guard nodded and fixed his eyes on Jeff.
Jeff was working in back of the pedestal. The frustrated guide turned to the group. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, as I was saying, over here we have a selection of fine diamonds at bargain prices. We accept credit cards, traveler’s checks”—he gave a little chuckle—“and even cash.”
Tracy was standing in front of the counter. “Do you buy diamonds?” she asked in a loud voice.
The guide stared at her. “What?”
“My husband is a prospector. He just returned from South Africa, and he wants me to sell these.”
As she spoke, she opened the briefcase she carried, but she was holding it upside down, and a torrent of flashing diamonds cascaded down and danced all over the floor.
“My diamonds!” Tracy cried. “Help me!”
There was one frozen moment of silence, and then all hell broke loose. The polite crowd became a mob. They scrambled for the diamonds on their hands and knees, knocking one another out of the way.
“I’ve got some…”
“Grab a handful, John…”
“Let go of that, it’s mine…”
The guide and the guard were beyond speech. They were hurled aside in a sea of scrambling, greedy human beings, filling their pockets and purses with the diamonds.
The guard screamed, “Stand back! Stop that!” and was knocked to the floor.
A busload of Italian tourists entered, and when they saw what was happening, they joined in the frantic scramble.