Stone cold series boxset.., p.31
Stone Cold Series Boxset 3, page 31
part #7 of Stone Cold Series
"No, Rupert, wrong again. The diamond belongs to me. It always has. The man that carried it from France-"
"Your ancestor?" said Rupert, as the pieces fell into place.
"It was stolen many years ago from my father, and we've been searching for it ever since. So when you and your greedy brother stole it from us, you woke a very old and angry beast, Rupert."
Smokey laughed hard, then grimaced at the pain in his leg.
"And then you gave it back to me to look after, you schmuck. But I'll give you credit for the plan. It would have been good had you done your research."
"You played me?" said Rupert.
"You always were the smarter of the two. But I suggest you use those brains and stop pointing that gun at my dear Lola. I'm quite the protective father, Rupert."
"Charlie," said Rupert, seeing the upper hand shift, "take the diamonds."
But Charlie gave no response.
"Charlie?" said Rupert. "I said take the diamonds."
Rupert glanced around to find an empty space where Charlie had been standing.
"Charlie?" he called.
No answer came.
Smokey laughed through his pain.
"Where is he, you bastard?" said Rupert.
Smokey continued to laugh.
"I said where is he, Smokey? You could have lived. Don't make me do this."
Smokey stared up at him, smiling.
"Put the gun down, Rupert," said Lola. She stepped into the fire light pointing her own handgun at Rupert.
Rupert aimed back at her, but the move gave Smokey a chance to shift his heavy shotgun from his position on the floor. He aimed it directly at Rupert.
"Now, Rupert," he said. "I believe that we have two guns, and you only have one."
"Rupert," called Charlie from the shadows behind.
"Charlie? Where are you?"
No response came at first. Then a weak and frightened voice replied to Rupert. "I'm here, by the wall."
"What are you doing? Come here," said Rupert.
"Rupert, help."
Rupert looked down at Smokey, who just smiled back.
"We find ourselves in a very tricky position, don't we?" said Smokey.
"Rupert, help," called Charlie.
"I'm coming, bro," said Rupert. "What's wrong?"
Rupert backed away, switching his weapon from Smokey to Lola and back again. He passed the diamonds, collecting them both with one hand, and stuffed them into his jacket pocket.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Rupert," said Smokey.
"Rupert, help."
"I'm coming," called Rupert. "Why not?" he said to Smokey. "You don't honestly believe in a curse?" Rupert continued walking backwards. "Charlie, where are you?" he called.
"I'm here," replied Charlie. His voice was weak and raised an octave.
Rupert turned to find a dark wall in front of him, swathed in shadows.
"Charlie?" he whispered, suddenly aware of a presence around him.
As if on cue, thunder boomed, followed a few seconds later by two flashes of lightning. It was then that Rupert's eyes fell on the sight of his beloved twin brother hanging from the wall with two meat hooks protruding from his chest.
"Charlie?" whispered Rupert, and ran to his brother across the soaked concrete floor.
Grabbing him by his waist, Rupert tried to lift Charlie off the hooks, but he was too heavy and Rupert's handmade leather soled brogues slipped on the wet floor.
"Who did this?" he yelled at his brother, as if it was his fault.
Charlie just stared back at him as if he'd accepted death. Pity filled his eyes and his wordless mouth hung open.
"Charlie?" said Rupert.
"Drop the gun, Rupert," said a voice, new, but familiar, with a tone of exhaustion.
Rupert span to find Smokey being supported on one side by Lola, and on the other, a man who held a burning length of wood picked from one of the oils drums.
"I told you I had two barrels, Rupert, didn't I?" said Smokey.
"Get him down," Rupert shouted, his voice thick with tears.
"The diamonds, Rupert," Harvey replied.
"The diamonds?" said Rupert. "Why don't you come and get them."
Rupert stuffed his free hand into his pocket and pulled out the two diamonds. They glittered in the fierce fire light, alive with the power of the flames.
"Take them off me," Rupert spat.
The man simply smiled back at Rupert as if it was the answer he'd been expecting. Then he let his hand fall forwards and tossed the burning lumber into the pool of liquid in which Rupert stood.
Immediately, the pool took light. A rush of excited blue flames tore across the room, sucking in the cool air with a hiss.
Rupert cried out in shock as the flames engulfed him. Instinct told him to run, but brotherly love held him on the spot. He reached for Charlie, throwing both arms around him. He pulled and pushed, trying to lift his brother high off the hooks, but the flames licked at Rupert's hands and soon engulfed them both. Charlie's suit and skin simply fell away at his touch. As the flames reached his face, Rupert screamed as every inch of his body was seared and the sickly odour of burning flesh filled his mouth and nose.
Charlie's face seemed to look down at him, retorted in silent agony as the flames too licked at his face. Rupert clung desperately to his brother's waist. But as the fire took hold and the pain overcame any strength Rupert still had, he slid down to Charlie's knees and lay in the pool of burning petrol with his arms wrapped tightly around his brother’s legs.
Through the heat haze and his burning eyes, Rupert faintly caught movement. Smokey had lifted the shotgun from beneath his coat. He seemed to watch Rupert's suffering for a few seconds longer until finally, he pulled the trigger.
By the time she and Reg ran through the single doorway of the factory, Melody knew they were too late. Three figures stood beside the wall to her left, standing over the remains of a smoking and smouldering fire.
A thick, sickly odour filled the huge space.
The man in the centre turned his head to face them as they approached and the girl readied her weapon.
"It's okay," said Harvey.
Melody stepped up to the trio.
Harvey held his hand out to relax the man he and the woman were supporting. "They're after me," he said.
"I get the feeling we're late to the party," said Melody.
"Smokey, Lola," said Harvey, "meet Melody Mills and Reg Tenant."
"Ah, I've read about you, Miss Mills," said Smokey. "It's a pleasure. I'd love to stay and chat, but as you can see..." He gestured at his ruined leg.
"You look like you're in need of medical attention, sir," said Melody.
"Medical attention and a stiff drink, miss," replied Smokey. "It's been a long night."
"And these two?" said Melody. She nodded at the charred remains of the Bond Brothers.
"They won't be much trouble any longer, Miss Mills," said Smokey.
"And you must be Lola?" said Melody. "The brothers had quite the plan for you and your friend Fingers."
"You're police?" asked Smokey.
"Sir, can I ask you to drop the gun?" said Melody.
"Oh, indeed, Miss Mills." Smokey span the shotgun around and he offered it to Melody butt first. "Would you mind taking it? But please be careful. It's a Purdy, very old and extremely expensive."
Melody took the weapon from him.
"One of a pair you know," he added. "Quite apt really, given the circumstances."
"Harvey?" said Melody, as she broke the shotgun, checked it was empty, and hung it from her arm. "What are we going to do here? Someone has to pay for this and the diamonds."
"Is that right?" replied Harvey. He passed Smokey's weight onto Lola and made sure she was steady. Then he stepped forwards, bent down to Rupert's blackened and still smoking bones, and snapped back his charred fingers to reveal a pair of perfectly unscathed, flawless, 200-carat diamonds. They were identical in appearance and weight.
Harvey removed them from Rupert's hand, which crumbled to ash as Harvey stood up.
The diamonds, lying cupped in Harvey's hand, sparkled even in the dim light of the factory. Holding them high, Harvey peered through them to catch the dim light from the arched windows.
"Incredible," he muttered.
"They're absolutely beautiful," said Lola.
All five of them were silenced by the almost magical glistening, until Harvey lowered his hand and closed his fist on the two rocks.
He turned to face Melody and the others.
"As I see it, Melody," said Harvey, "the brothers had themselves an accident."
He stepped past the bewildered Lola and Smokey and held out an upturned hand.
Melody held her own hand out, palm facing up, and felt the weight of a single half of the Demonios Gemelos as Harvey released it.
For the smallest fraction of time, he held Melody's gaze. The slightest of smiles appeared on his face then faded to Harvey's standard non-emotional gaze.
As Melody began to speak, Harvey turned away.
"But what about the other-" she started.
"I believe this belongs to you," interrupted Harvey, addressing Smokey. He dropped the twin diamond in the palm of the old Jewish man.
Smokey's hand closed around the diamond without even a cursory glance then disappeared into his pocket.
"Toda," he said.
Harvey raised an eyebrow.
"It means thank you in Hebrew."
Harvey nodded.
“But wait, what about Fingers?" said Lola, suddenly panicked. "Did the brothers get him?"
"No," said Harvey. "I got him."
His remark was met with an intake of breath from the group.
"It's okay. I let him go. I told him to get on the first flight he could," said Harvey.
"It's a shame I didn't listen then, wasn't it?" said a voice from behind Melody. "I could be somewhere much warmer by now."
"Fingers," cried Lola. She held onto her father but held an arm out for Fingers to join her.
He gave Lola a hug and shook her father's hand. Then he ran his eyes over Melody and Reg before letting them fall on Harvey.
He gave a small nod of thanks.
Harvey returned it.
"Well," said Smokey, "I'd love to stay and chat. But I'm afraid I'm slowly bleeding to death here. So if you'll excuse me."
Fingers left Lola's side and picked up the side that Harvey had previously supported. The three slowly made their way past Melody and Reg, but before they reached the door, Smokey stopped. He turned and with a voice of authority, wisdom and gratitude, addressed them all.
"Before I forget my manners," he began. "I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am. And the rest of my family too."
Harvey, Melody and Reg all nodded at him.
"I'm sure my father and the generations of Abrams before him are all up there somewhere smiling down that our diamond is back home."
He let the comment hang in the stale air, and smiled.
"You'll be hearing from me," he said. Then with the help of his daughter and her friend, he left the factory.
18
A New Beginning
Just two days had passed since the incident at the factory. There was a lot for Harvey to take in but not much for him to do.
He took one final look at the single Demonios Gemelos diamond, sitting prettily on its cushion in the Natural History Museum. A flock of tourists had gathered around to see the now-famous diamond after its recent theft and return.
The tourists closed in and Harvey stepped away, taking the fastest route out of the building and ignoring the strange looks from passers-by who stared at his bruised and swollen face.
He shouldered his backpack, pulled the visor down on his helmet, and rode out of London for good.
His senses felt numbed to the people, places, and cars he passed. But it felt good to be back on his bike and heading back to his little farmhouse in France.
He just had one more stop to make before pointing his bike at Dover and opening up the throttle.
Harvey regretted leaving before he had a chance to talk to Melody, and to Reg. He missed his old friend a little. Melody had tried to talk to him in the factory, but it hadn't been the time or the place. He'd walked away, leaving Melody standing there for the second time in his life.
Part of him regretted walking away. He knew she was good for him. But the beast inside him was volatile, and he knew it. He couldn't bring her down with him.
Thirty minutes later, and around thirty miles west of Guildford, he clicked the left-hand indicator on, slowed the bike into second gear, and rode between two huge wrought iron gates, which he estimated at about thirty feet tall.
Before him was a long gravel driveway, which swooped around past an enormous lake. A series of smaller fountains sprayed water at the foot of a central fountain. The lake was awash with frothing white water.
Past the lakes and the fountains stood a huge grand house, at least three stories tall, with balconied windows and an entrance that even the Royal Family would be happy to walk up.
He parked the bike at the foot of the eight long curved steps, removed his helmet and peered up at the two huge double doors.
A man in a tuxedo and white gloves stood waiting between the balustrades for Harvey to climb the steps.
"Mr Stone?" he asked, as Harvey approached.
Harvey nodded.
"This way, sir," the man replied, and walked briskly to the house.
The huge front doors closed behind Harvey.
"Follow me, if you will, sir," said the man.
Harvey followed once more and allowed himself to be led through a pair of ornate doors of dark wood, past huge oil paintings in frames that looked as expensive as the paintings themselves, and along a corridor so long, Harvey couldn't even count the doors that led from it.
At the far end of the corridor was one final set of double doors, of matching dark wood and intricate mouldings.
Harvey stepped through and was surprised at the sudden change in surroundings. The doors opened out into a huge glass conservatory with brilliant white window frames. The natural light in the room was overwhelming in contrast to the grandeur of the house Harvey had just walked through.
Ahead of Harvey stood two doors that opened out into an immaculate garden filled with manicured hedges and flowers that exploded in colour, contrasting the thick greenery they bordered.
To Harvey's right was a table surrounded by chairs and holding raised plates offering fruits, nuts, and small pastries. A silver tray with coffee completed the scene, containing a small display off china cups, saucers and silver spoons.
But the biggest surprise was to Harvey's left. A large, white-framed bed stood encased in a flowing net curtain.
In the bed, sitting up and beaming at Harvey with grateful admiration was Smokey the Jew. He was dressed in white pyjamas, with his braided payot swinging freely beside his face and a dark skullcap perched atop his head.
"Mr Stone," said Smokey, "I'm so pleased you made it. Won't you join me?"
"How's the knee?" said Harvey as he stepped up to the foot of the bed, noticing for the first time that Smokey's half of the Demonios Gemelos sat in a rich purple cushion on his side table.
"I won't be walking unaided again," replied Smokey. "They removed my leg below the knee. But I'm breathing, and my heart is strong." He followed Harvey's gaze and smiled gratefully.
Harvey nodded.
"Good," he said. "I'm glad to hear that you're feeling okay."
"You look like you've been in the wars yourself, Harvey," said Reg.
"I'll heal," replied Harvey. "I always seem to."
"Well," began Smokey, "without further ado, I'd like to offer you my sincere appreciation for helping my family regain its long lost property."
"It's okay, Smokey," said Harvey. "I don't need your money."
"My money?" said Smokey with distaste. "I'm not offering you money, my friend."
He swept a smile across the room, as if checking they were alone, and then rested his eyes on Harvey's.
"I have a proposition for you."
Harvey didn't reply.
Stone Deep
The
Stone Cold Thriller Series
Book 9
1
Defeat
The Defeat of the Floating Batteries at Gibraltar commanded the opulent gallery; even Cordero Diaz thought so, whose knowledge of the fine arts could be written long-hand on the rear of a cigarette packet.
The painting was more than just a scene painted on a canvas. The brush strokes, visible in the texture of the oils, had purpose. They were not the simple result of applying colour to creation using a brush as a medium. Instead, the strokes conveyed tones, shadows and direction, and complimented neighbouring colours, tones and shadows. The depth of the foreground, with its hues of greens and deep shadow, was not there to fill a gap between the background and the content. The foreground had lines that drew the viewer's eye to the life of the art, its heart and soul. Soldiers on horseback were described in so much detail that a modern photograph could not portray the scene with more clarity. A washed blend of pastel colours, used to invoke a terrifying scene of battle, anguish and carnage, invoked the smell of gunpowder to the viewer, along with fire, smoke, and death.
The painting was a masterpiece.
At close to seven metres by five metres, removing the frame from its position of glory five metres high on the wall of the gallery would require planning. But it was not impossible. If it was possible for one man to create such a masterpiece, it would be possible for a team of men to steal it.
Falling in with a guide and a host of tourists, Cordero played the part of an inquisitive visitor well; this wasn't his first rodeo. He knew the rules of engagement. Invisibility was key.
The remainder of the tour, although interesting, was spent examining security, adding more research to what the team had already discovered through their planted security guard. Lasers did not protect the Guildhall Gallery in the City of London. A web of infra-red beams was not switched on when the doors were locked, ready to sound the alarms should an inexperienced intruder fall foul of their purpose. But behind the walls and beneath the raised floors was a mesh of sensors. They all connected to the control room in the basement, where a team of guards monitored them around the clock.
