The Diamond Hunter Page 28

  His jaw was working. He was either worried or embarrassed, or both. Good. She wanted him on the defensive. The thin sunlight slanting through the arched windows lit him in a golden pool, glinting off his hair and suggesting that this man was kissed by an aura of goodness.

  She sighed silently with exasperation at such a ludicrous sentiment. Clem heard Mrs Johnson arriving at the top of the stairs, and as she appeared in the arabesque doorway, Clem put a finger to her lips. Her housekeeper smiled and nodded.

  Clem tiptoed to the housekeeper and pulled her into an adjoining room. ‘I overheard,’ she said.

  ‘As you have since you were seven, Miss Clementine.’

  ‘Terrible habit.’

  The housekeeper smiled kindly. ‘Are we receiving Mr Axford?’

  ‘We are. I’ll meet him on the patio. It’s a pleasant enough morning and I could use some air.’ What she didn’t say was that it meant their conversation could be kept private.

  ‘Very good. Any refreshments?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Perhaps I could ring if we need?’

  ‘Of course. I’ll show him through.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll just fetch my wrap.’

  ‘Mr Axford?’ she said, sounding bright as she emerged onto the stone patio overlooking the lawns and rose gardens. Tall trees that provided shade in summer looked forlorn, with naked branches held up as if pleading to be clothed.

  ‘Don’t, Clem.’

  ‘Don’t what?’

  ‘Go formal on me.’

  She eyed him and realised her brimstone still bubbled yellow and angry within.

  ‘I’ve received you, Will, which means I’m obviously in a cordial mood and keen to hear what you have to say.’

  ‘You may not like it.’

  She felt her hopes sink. ‘I see.’

  ‘No, I don’t think you do.’

  ‘So you’re here to hurt me more?’

  ‘That’s not my intention but —’

  ‘But what, Will?’ She advanced on him, pulling the knitted shawl even more tightly around her shoulders, not enjoying the pain that stared back at her from those kind eyes. ‘What can possibly be achieved by calling my only living relative’s credibility into question? Firstly, what business is it of yours anyway, to be on this sort of crusade? And secondly, I decide whom I love – in spite of their faults.’

  Ah, that hit home. His head snapped up as though she’d given him one of Joseph One-Shoe’s famous roundhouse blows.

  ‘Say what you came here to say, Will. Don’t make it a wasted trip.’

  ‘I didn’t come to say anything.’

  She rounded on him now, her tears mercifully blinked away. ‘Well, what are you here for, then?’ She scowled. ‘It’s obviously not to apologise.’

  ‘Not for telling the truth, no. Not for telling you all that I shared the last time we met, or right now telling you that I love you.’

  She took a sharp breath. ‘You barely know me!’

  ‘I know you, Clementine. I know your pain and sadness. I know your Africa, which perhaps no one else does. I know what you want.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ she said. She wished in this heartbeat that he was incapable of such ruthless honesty.

  ‘I think you want the truth.’

  She didn’t hold back. ‘And you’ll sacrifice our potential?’

  ‘Yes. If it means you discover the truth.’

  ‘I hate you more for that.’ She folded her arms even tighter and turned to stare out across the garden, where the morning frost had melted to leave all of its plants glistening with water. Even the garden was weeping for her.

  Will continued from behind her while she seethed. ‘I have asked a friend of mine from the club to see if he can find out any details about Joseph One-Shoe after 1873.’

  She nodded. ‘Well, I am certainly grateful for that.’ Clem suddenly felt too angry to tell him about her meeting with Sammy or her need for proof. She needed to become calm. ‘Thank you, Will.’

  ‘Is that it?’

  She turned to fix him with a glacial stare she imagined even her grandmother would be proud of. ‘Yes. I need time to think. You may call on me in three days.’

  They were both breathing hard. Steam puffed from their mouths and their breath entwined like ethereal lovers before dissipating into the air.

  He gave a small bow, and without another word he departed.

  25

  It was easier to walk than to be enclosed in a carriage with the awkwardness squeezed between them like an unwelcome passenger. Will had suggested they alight as the traffic became more congested and she couldn’t have got out of the hackney and into the open air any quicker.

  Her feelings were mixed. She wanted so much to prove Will wrong in his assumptions – for surely that’s what his claims were. But then she couldn’t ignore her sickening curiosity to learn what Sammy might know. He had sent a courteous message the previous day for them to meet again, and that afternoon Will had duly presented himself as she’d suggested. She had to applaud him for his sincerity; it was a mark of his honourable nature that he was prepared to come back and risk facing more of her chill.

  Yesterday, Will had learned of her initial meeting with Sammy. This time she had invited him into her private drawing room, where they sat opposite one another. She hadn’t yet offered refreshment and perhaps wouldn’t, as she saw his expression darken at her news.

  ‘But I thought —’

  He looked confused and she could understand it, but she felt little sympathy. ‘Look, Will, I feel disgusted that I am even a party to this. But how did you expect I might feel after your not-so-subtle accusation? It has put a demon in my mind, and the only way to cast it out is to get answers to questions I don’t like asking.’

  ‘And you’ve asked them, it seems.’

  ‘I have, because I now feel obliged to clear his name.’

  ‘Clem, my accusation, as you call it, has simply prompted a line of inquiry that has surely sat in the back of your mind for years.’

  ‘You’re wrong.’

  ‘You admit you asked your uncle about the diamonds.’

  ‘I did when I was little. And he gave me his answer, which I accepted.’

  ‘Because you were a child.’

  ‘I guess the point you’re missing, Will, is that I don’t care about the diamonds.’ That wasn’t entirely true, but she hoped it would put him off his course.

  It didn’t. He leaned in further to press his point. ‘That may be, Clem. But I suspect you care very much about being lied to. And that’s what this is about. I don’t care about the diamonds either. But I am not going to associate my good name with that of a thief, who has potentially stolen something extraordinary from his own family – from the very niece he claims to adore.’

  ‘Claims to adore?’

  ‘I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. I know your uncle loves you, but perhaps back then he felt indifferent.’

  ‘You certainly know how to woo a girl, Will, but I can see why you aren’t married yet. You have a cruel way about you.’

  She watched his jaw work as the barb found its target. She’d hurt him. It wasn’t something to feel proud of but she could not let herself be trampled in his crusade to find his truth – the one that would satisfy him but leave ruin in its wake.

  ‘Cruel? And there I was believing I was protecting you.’

  ‘Protecting? Will, don’t be so pompous. What you’ve done is undermine me, made me feel uncertain about the one aspect of my life I have always felt was secure.’

  At this he looked immediately ashamed, as though the notion had never occurred to him. She could tell he’d had to swallow a retort; he was vexed because she’d managed to shame him.

  ‘I do now wish I had approached our dilemma more carefully and perhaps with less fervour.’ He cleared his throat and shook his head with regret. ‘But to undermine you was not and never could be my intention, Clem. I would never want to weaken the person I have come to admire above
all others.’

  She let the pause lengthen as they both shifted awkwardly.

  ‘Nevertheless,’ she finally began with a sigh, ‘we find ourselves in this situation now, and today Mr Izak wishes to see me. I’m hoping he has nothing of significance to share, of course, and then that will be that, Will. I shall be satisfied and will not think on the accusation or those diamonds again.’

  ‘May I at least accompany you when you meet with Mr Izak?’

  He watched her inhale as she considered this. ‘You may. We’re both involved now so you might as well hear what he has to say.’

  ‘If I could have my time again, Clem, I would say nothing – I would simply not do business with your family. I must reiterate, though, that your idea is sharply observed and splendidly conceived.’

  She nodded. ‘Retrospection only helps us learn for the future. It makes no difference to what has transpired. You made a choice and now we must deal with its consequences. Mr Izak is expecting me at eleven. Shall we go?’

  ‘How often have you been here?’ Will asked, clearly desperate to puncture the silence, as they reached Hatton Garden.

  ‘A number of times.’ Pathetic answer, Clem, she admonished herself privately. She tried harder. ‘I know that the land it sits on was originally a gift from Elizabeth I to one of her favourites, Sir Christopher Hatton. It became a hotly pursued residential district once his mansion was up and the orchards of the region became his garden. And then lots of merchants moved in.’

  He nodded. ‘I believe it’s been a jewellery quarter since the days of Shakespeare. More to the point, the world has focused on it for diamonds from around the time your family went to Africa in search of them.’

  They were passing fine Georgian buildings as they moved deeper into the diamond district she knew much better than she was letting on.

  ‘Do you know why it became such a centre for diamonds, though?’ she asked, glad they had something to discuss to keep that awkward passenger from catching up.

  He shrugged. ‘I thought it was a natural extension of the jewellery trade.’

  ‘No, actually. The king of diamonds was waiting to be crowned at around the time I was brought back from Kimberley. His name is Cecil Rhodes.’

  He smiled. ‘Of course. Yes, I do know of him. I think my father has met him, but I gather he lives in South Africa.’

  ‘Cape Town,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘These days, diamonds from the Cape are controlled by Rhodes’s corporation, De Beers – in fact, it virtually controls the diamond market across the world. When my father was digging, Cecil Rhodes was just starting out, but he was smart enough to buy up claims and have other people dig for him. He and a fellow called Barney Barnato were both vying for ownership supremacy of digs. I met Mr Barnato once because he came to New Rush as a boxer and Joseph One-Shoe beat him. Anyway, these two men were in fierce competition but ultimately, Cecil Rhodes acquired Barnato’s claims and he merged them to form De Beers Consolidated Mines. Just a year or so ago he invited a group of Jewish firms operating out of Hatton Garden to form a buying group – a purchasing syndicate, I think it was called. And that meant all the De Beers diamonds – and you might as well say all diamonds from the Cape – passed through the Hatton Garden diamond merchants. They in turn became diamond distributors to the world.’ She glanced up at him and noted he was looking at her with something akin to awe as they walked.

  ‘Clem, you astound me.’

  ‘I don’t know why. This is common knowledge in the right circles.’

  ‘Not among the women I know. This is not the sort of conversation I could have with anyone else but . . . but a colleague from the industry.’

  ‘We have our differences, Will, but it doesn’t mean I can’t be a colleague – and then you wouldn’t have to be astonished by my conversation. You could treat me just the same as any other business partner. Of course, if you don’t plan to proceed with the underwriting offer, that’s fine, too. I shall press ahead anyway. Look.’ She tipped her head in the direction of a man wearing a dark three-piece suit and a bowler hat. ‘In that gentleman’s inside breast pocket will be a cache of diamonds. No doubting it. He’s one of the runners, taking gems to a jeweller who might require some stones to show a customer.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ He sounded incredulous.

  ‘I’ve observed them. Look how neat and tidy he is – you just know he works in an office of sorts and must be presentable to clients. I have learned how to recognise them by their brisk pace and slightly furtive glances. It’s just how the diggers used to move when they’d struck a good haul and had their stash hidden on their person. Watch how his gaze is never still – always glancing around to see if he’s being followed.’ She smiled. ‘He’s good – he’s even whistling. But he is a definite target for the new criminal underclass that is becoming such a blight in London, because if I can recognise him, so could lots of others, who would perhaps spend months spying and learning. They’d probably know all the runners’ names and habits, where they drink, who they work for, which routes they like to take. The merchants have to be smarter, have different routes each day, change the men who carry their gems, and above all insure themselves against theft.’

  ‘I couldn’t have said it better. You should consult,’ he said.

  Introductions were made, Will and Sammy connecting the links they had through Jerome Axford, his father; it turned out Sammy had also made some jewellery for Aunt Esme. They sat down and accepted cups and saucers, and thought about declining biscuits until they saw Sammy’s expression drop.

  ‘My wife and daughters made these kipferl for Hanukkah. They’re fresh and delicious – please, do try them.’

  It only took a bite. ‘Oh, they are truly delightful,’ Clem said. ‘Almond?’

  ‘Yes, gives them that lovely texture.’

  They smiled and drank together and finally, when there was no more small talk to make and no other polite rituals to be observed, Sammy’s face grew serious, his brows knitting together.

  Clem found herself holding her breath in terrified anticipation, and she was convinced Will felt the same.

  ‘Mr Axford . . . er, sorry, Will – Clementine asked me to find out if any remarkable diamonds were coming onto the market or had come onto it in recent times. I gather you have cast some doubt on Mr Grant and whether diamonds belonging to Clementine had been acquired without her permission.’

  Will looked momentarily aghast at Clem, as though she’d walked up and slapped him hard across his handsome face.

  ‘I’m sorry to be so direct,’ Sammy continued, ‘but this is quite the accusation and I don’t wish any of us to be confused about what I have been asked to find out, or indeed where this could lead. I am only the messenger and I do not wish to have any part in making these accusations.’

  Clem watched the hinge of Will’s jaw working; it was obvious he was wrestling with several responses. He chose one. ‘It is only about truth, sir. I did not wish Clementine to go through life living a lie.’

  She tipped her head slightly to one side and felt an ache pass through her. They could have been such a brilliant couple, but that notion felt further away now than it had even an hour earlier, when they’d started this awkward journey. ‘Oh, Will, truth is so often about perspective. Your truth, my truth, Mr Izak’s truth – we could all be talking about the same thing and skew it differently because of how we see it. And just sometimes, Will, the truth you put so much faith in can harm people.’

  She didn’t think she could have hurt him more if she’d picked up his umbrella and clubbed him with it. However, she wasn’t prepared to see his expression change from wounded to resolute. Clearly, she’d only made him more stubborn in his pursuit.

  ‘The reality is, Clementine,’ he said, ignoring poor Sammy, who had taken a breath to answer, ‘this is about honour. I cannot be privy to a lie and simply accept it or profit from it because it’s not my lie. In this instance, it potentially injures someone I care very much about
. This is my decision, so please do not lecture me about how I should behave or feel.’

  Now who sounds virtuous? she thought with a flash of irritation. ‘But my uncle and his relationship with me is none of your business, Will!’

  ‘It is if he was complicit in your father’s death and then stole his diamonds and his child.’

  The room turned hideously still. It was as though a spell had been cast that forbid them to move anything but their gazes. She couldn’t even swallow for the horror of what Will had said, and she could see he too was in despair at having let that thought out. It hung like a stench, polluting the space.

  ‘Will?’ Sammy appealed.

  Will rubbed his face. ‘Clementine, I unreservedly apologise.’

  ‘I can’t pretend it has not been said.’ Her voice was scratchy, her mind racing. It was a shock but not entirely a surprise, given the thought had been dancing on the outskirts of her mind like a gleeful demon. Hers was a vague, perhaps even dismissible suspicion. Will believed it, though. She could see it written in his open face. He would never make a gambling man, certainly not at cards. What did he know that she didn’t?

  ‘Clementine, would you prefer to leave this?’ Sammy asked. ‘I could call you a hackney this moment. I am so sorry.’

  She sat up even straighter. ‘No, Sammy. Will’s made a heinous claim now – he needs to substantiate it, or I might feel inclined to talk to our family solicitor.’

  Will looked like he was going to respond but thought better of it and lowered his gaze.

  Sammy opened his hands beseechingly. ‘My dears, it’s clear that all this passion is primarily because you like each other so much. It is always hurtful if a friend seems to be working against us, but sometimes that can be interpreted wrongly. Let me tell you both what I have learned.’

  Clem felt her insides clench; she could believe she had stopped breathing or that her heart had paused in that expectant moment. There was physical pain somewhere but she couldn’t locate it – her mind had dulled, all other sounds blanketed, awaiting Sammy’s words.