Chapter 67
GRACE
Grace stared at the stone on Rivka’s palm. “But that is… Is it…?”
It was, no doubt, the Crimson Tear.
“Jesus…” escaped Mr. Brodia’s lips as he, too, gawked at the stone.
But one pair of eyes bore into the red diamond in more shock than anyone’s.
Uriah Mawr clenched his jaw in disbelief.
“It’s a scam,” he rasped, breaking the silence that was laced with the smell of the dead men’s blood on the floor.
“It’s not,” Rivka said, smiling at Grace. “You have it, lovely. Do what you need to do.”
Grace still stared in disbelief when a roar broke out behind her. Something pushed her out of the way, and Uriah’s hunched figure lunged at Rivka and snatched the diamond out of her hand.
“Mine!” he snarled and rushed toward the door, limping and skipping.
“Hold still!” Mr. Brodia barked as he pointed his gun at Uriah scurrying out of the room.
If Drasko’s fate was in that vile man’s hands, Grace would end him.
She didn’t hesitate, didn’t think twice when she snatched the gun out of Mr. Brodia’s hand and fired at Uriah limping away.
One shot.
One man.
No regrets.
No more cruelty.
Uriah’s body jerked mid-air, then collapsed onto the floor with a dull thud.
She started trembling at what she had done, staring at the body on the floor that seemed so much smaller now. But she had never despised someone so much, and Drasko didn’t deserve any more cruelty.
Still alive, Uriah slowly rolled onto his back, a crimson puddle growing underneath him on the floor. Blood gathered in the corners of his mouth. His hand still clutched the diamond.
“Too late,” he wheezed with a bloodied smirk. “You are too late. The diamond is not at the auction. Drasko is going to die.”
Grace felt the movement next to her. Mr. Brodia pried the gun out of her hand. He raised the pistol, cocked it, and fired at Uriah.
In an instant, Uriah’s head jerked. Blood trickled from the bullet hole in the center of his forehead, and the sinister light in his eyes extinguished.
“Bastard,” Mr. Brodia blurted out, then turned around. “Miss Rebecca, you need to help Mrs. Mawr. And fast. I will find Drasko.”
“They have him. This man’s guards, they have him,” Grace murmured, still fixated on the bony figure on the floor.
“Mrs. Mawr! You need to get to the auction. Elias is waiting there.”
“Yes,” she murmured, absently.
“Now!”
“Yes, yes!” Grace turned around, dizzy from the tincture and the smell of blood, nodding as Rivka helped her dress.
Mr. Brodia gave orders to his men, then passed her the red diamond.
“My men will take you to the auction as fast as possible. I will sort things out here, and Miss Rebecca and I will find Drasko. Perhaps, she can see where he is, considering she can pull two-decade mysteries out of her pocket.” He flashed Rivka a smile.
“Twenty minutes to five,” one of the Bankees said as Grace stormed out of the building with six of them by her side. “Do you ride?”
“Pardon me?”
“Do you ride horseback?”
Her confused look told him that was a no.
“The fastest way to get around these days,” he said as he helped her on one of the horses tied outside and mounted it behind her.
“Faster! Please, faster!” she pleaded as they trotted through the city, carriages and trams left behind, passersby parting to let them through.
“Here!” Grace commanded as they approached the crowded police cordon around the Benham Auction House.
She fought through the crowd and toward the entrance.
Five minutes after five.
She rushed through the crowded main hall.
“Grace!” She saw Julien in the crowd, but she had no time for him.
She rushed up the grand stairwell, to the upper floor, and the main auction hallway.
It was even more crowded, its walls lined with the Mawr marvels, guests dripping in wealth, sipping champagne to the pleasant tunes of an orchestra.
The seats before the stage were occupied. The rest crowded around.
The grandeur and beauty exceeded any such exhibition before. The art pieces were illuminated by soft lights. The room glowed in the shine of thousands of diamonds of various hues and sizes.
But Grace didn’t stop.
Ten past five , the clock on the wall said.
“Grace! Grace!” Elias was pushing through the crowd toward her. “Where is Drasko?”
“I don’t know. But I have the stone. I do, Elias! It has to be displayed by six. By six! You hear me? And they still need to do the authentication!”
“Come!” he ordered.
They ran to the director’s office.
A dozen or so men turned their heads to Grace and Elias as they entered, Mr. Kleinstein, the director, among them.
She took the red diamond out of her reticule.
“The Crimson Tear,” she said as the men stared at the red stone in her palm.
Someone cleared his throat. Several men rose from their seats.
Another man chuckled. “Is this some sort of joke?”
Mr. Kleinstein slowly approached, his eyes on the diamond.
“This is Mrs. Mawr,” he explained, his eyes glued to her palm and the gem.
He reached for the diamond then paused, then finally took it between his thumb and middle finger, his hand shaking.
The rest of the gentlemen rose to their feet, their eyes, too, on the Crimson Tear.
“I understand that Mr. Mawr did not condescend to attend his own auction,” that same appraiser said bitterly. “And you, ma’am, whip a stone out of your reticule and want us to believe it is the diamond in question?”
Grace lifted her chin, her gracious smile on the director as she spoke. “I will spare you the grizzly details of where it came from.”
Elias stepped forward. “I believe the jewelry experts will be better able to determine what this is. Mr. Kleinstein,” he said, “please, conduct the authenticity check. As per Mr. Mawr, this diamond has to be on display no later than six o’clock.”
Five-thirty, the clock said.
The appraiser and experts got to work. They set up their contraptions and took turns inspecting the stone. They exchanged whispers and murmurs, and one of the appraisers blew his nose in a handkerchief and wiped his teary eyes.
“By God, it is so pure,” he muttered in a shaky voice.
“And the rarest hue of red!” another exclaimed.
“Truly, a wonder.”
“Excellent grade, ideal cut.”
“Gentlemen,” said the bitter appraiser, his eyes now bright with diamond fever. “The authentication is complete. It is a privilege.”
Five-forty-five.
Grace watched with a pounding heart as the men signed the authentication papers. The opening bid was agreed upon. A special glass case with a black velvet cushion was brought for the display.
Five-fifty-five.
Her mind screamed. She tapped her foot, checking the clock every minute.
At last, Mr. Kleinstein gave a sign.
They walked out into the auction hall, packed with lords and ladies. The crowd quieted. Necks craned in the direction of the man who wheeled out the podium with the glass case.
The Duke and Duchess of Trent sat in the front row, the duchess’s eyes boring into the cloth that covered the glass case.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the director announced with an air of utmost importance. “The auction is starting.”
Grace stood behind him at a distance and thought of the small stone in the room full of people, a stone, so insignificant, yet that had caused so much pain.
“The Benham Auction House is proud to present the Wonders of the Mawr Diamonds!”
Her gaze swept across the room, searching for Drasko or some indication that the message had been received.
“We believe our main prize is here. We present to you the Crimson Tear.”
He stepped to the glass case and theatrically whisked the drape off it.
The crowd gasped in awe.
The duchess flung from her chair, her eyes on the glass display. Someone in the front row fainted. The crowd rose to their feet to take a better look at the legendary diamond and exploded in deafening applause.
Only Grace exchanged bitter glances with Elias.
The small insignificant-looking red gem had ruined many lives. It had almost ruined hers and Drasko’s. Yet, it was now cheered to by the world’s elite.
The clock struck six.