LITMIR.BIZ

       TWENTY-FIVE

      Every morning when he arrived at Deravenels, Edward spent several hours studying the books, brochures and pamphlets which Alfredo Oliveri had given him. As Oliveri had intended, Edward was gaining a greater understanding of all the divisions of Deravenels.

      Almost immediately he had found himself gravitating to the mining division, discovered he was particularly interested in diamonds and precious stones. In only a few weeks he had become extremely knowledgeable, most especially about one stone—the diamond.

      He had always had a prodigious memory, much better than most people’s, and when they were at Oxford together Will had announced that Edward had a photographic memory. It was true that after reading something twice he knew it by heart. ‘You would have made a good actor,’ Will had once told him, and Edward had laughed, and agreed, knowing that there was a lot of the actor in him.

      This morning he was immersed in a book about Jean-Baptiste Tavernier, the merchant and traveller who had journeyed from Paris to India in the seventeenth century, usually heading for the famous Golconda mines, now extinct. Tavernier was the first person to bring diamonds back to Europe from the subcontinent of India. Louis XVI had bought diamonds from Tavernier, as had other members of his court who were able to afford them.

      As he went on reading eagerly, Edward made notes on a pad. He had recently become intrigued by those very special diamonds which were both big and perfect, and because of this they were given a name. Thus each one became a famous diamond, much valued and coveted. Now he had just discovered that one of the first of these was called the Grand Mazarin, actually named after Cardinal Mazarin, who had owned it. On his death the Cardinal had bequeathed it to Louis XIV.

      Unexpectedly, the door of Edward’s office burst open, and as he glanced up Alfredo came rushing in looking troubled.

      Always pale skinned, Alfredo was as white as chalk, so much so his freckles seemed to stand out most prominently across the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones.

      Edward knew at once that something was seriously wrong, and his stomach lurched. He couldn’t help wondering if Alfredo had finally been pushed out of the company, or at least instructed to return to Carrara.

      Drawing to a standstill in front of the desk, Alfredo stood there staring at Edward, obviously perturbed. He seemed to have lost his voice.

      ‘Whatever’s the matter?’ Edward asked.

      ‘Aubrey Masters is dead.’

      Dumbstruck, Edward simply gaped at the other man. He was shocked at this stark announcement, and felt a cold chill run through him.

      Alfredo sat down heavily in the chair.

      Edward leaned across the desk. ‘When did he die?’

      ‘Tuesday…last night, that is.’

      ‘Who gave you this news?’

      ‘Rob Aspen. He came into my office a few minutes ago and said, “Masters is no longer with us, he passed away.” I was just as shocked as you are now. I had a meeting with him on Monday afternoon, but he told me he’d have to cut it short, because he had an unexpected appointment and he had to hurry off. But he was more cordial than usual, which seemed a bit odd to me. Anyway, he left in a hurry. Yesterday I ran into him in the corridor, and although he was somewhat preoccupied he looked in good health, was quite normal.’

      ‘Did Aspen tell you what Aubrey Masters died of?’

      ‘He didn’t know.’ Alfredo lifted his hands in a helpless gesture, and added, ‘It must have been a heart attack or a stroke, something like that.’

      ‘Whatever it was, it was certainly sudden,’ Ned remarked, frowning. ‘And how did Aspen get the news? From whom?’

      ‘The horse’s mouth, of course. John Summers. Summers is somehow related to Masters, they’re cousins three times removed or some such thing. And as you know they are both related to Henry Grant. Hence their dedication to the Grant cause, and that’s the reason they both work here. Or rather did as far as Masters is concerned.’

      ‘I’m not going to play the hypocrite and say I’m sorry he’s dead,’ Edward said, ‘because it doesn’t matter to me that he’s left this world. He was, after all, my father’s enemy, and my enemy as well. And frankly, I’ve wondered for the last few days whether or not he was involved with the problems in the mining division—’ Ned broke off, drew even closer to Alfredo Oliveri. ‘You know what I mean, the skimming, or whatever is going on in India, South America and South Africa.’

      Alfredo nodded. ‘I agree with you. I had the same thoughts.’

      There was a knock on the door, and John Summers came in before Edward could say a word.

      Summers hovered in the doorway for a moment, then said, ‘Good morning, gentlemen.’

      They both responded in unison, and Edward said, ‘Do come in, Summers.’

      As John walked across the office, his eyes on Edward, he said, ‘I suppose you must have heard the terrible news…about Aubrey Masters.’

      It was Alfredo who answered when he said quietly, ‘Yes. Rob Aspen came to my office a short while ago and told me, and I have just informed Mr Edward.’

      Edward asked, ‘What did Aubrey Masters die of, actually?’

      ‘We don’t know, as of this moment. His wife telephoned me this morning to inform me of his death. Apparently he came home on Tuesday night and seemed perfectly fit and well. He prepared his own dinner, as usual, his vegetarian dinner, and he ate it alone as always, in his study. About an hour later he staggered out of the study complaining of chest pains. Later he became violently ill. Apparently he was having what Mrs Grant described as convulsions. She had their housekeeper telephone for the doctor, whilst she endeavoured to help her husband. But sadly, to no avail, I’m afraid. The doctor arrived fairly swiftly, only to find that Masters had just passed away.’

      ‘Perhaps it was a stroke,’ Edward suggested.

      ‘It’s impossible to know anything now,’ John responded. ‘The doctor arranged for the body to be taken to the hospital, where they are probably doing an autopsy at this very moment.’

      ‘So we should have some news later today,’ Alfredo said, making a guess.

      ‘I hope so. In the meantime, I am going to go to their house in Hyde Park Gate, to be with Cousin Mildred. I think I’m about the only family she has, other than her sister. I shall come back to the office as soon as her sister arrives from Gloucestershire.’

      All of these last few comments had been directed at Alfredo, who said, ‘Yes, of course, and would you like me to have Rob Aspen cover for Aubrey—’ He cut himself off, then said, ‘Deal with anything Masters was working on.’

      ‘Yes, that will be all right, a good idea actually, Oliveri,’ John replied. ‘Under your supervision, of course. And by the way, I think perhaps you should postpone your return to Italy. For the moment.’