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The nattily dressed salesman standing behind the glass display case in Tiffany’s flashed a wide smile.
“Good morning, Mr.—” he started to say.
“Soames. Nicholas Soames,” Nick finished.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Soames. My name is George. Are you buying for your wife? Or…” he hesitated; his eyes shifted from a pearl necklace to a diamond choker, “…for a sweetheart?”
Nick arched an eyebrow, amused. “Do you mean mistress, old sock?” he said. “Haven’t got one of those I’m happy to say. From what I hear, they set you back a pretty penny. I’m looking for a gift for my wife, who also happens to be my business partner, trusted advisor, and dearest friend.”
“She sounds like a most remarkable woman,” said George. “What does she like?”
“Adding machines. Industrial scales. Cash registers,” Nick replied. He laughed at George’s appalled expression. “Ghastly, I know. Which is why I’m here. Because she deserves a beautiful thing for a change. ”
“Let us find her one, then,” George said, pulling out an emerald brooch. A pair of ruby earrings. A sapphire hair comb. An enameled pocket watch. A garnet choker.
George showed Nick jewel after exquisite jewel, but nothing met with his approval. “Too old,” he said, dismissing the brooch. “Too crusty. Too fusty. Too flashy,” he added, dismissing everything else.
Half an hour later, an exhausted George stood amidst a king’s ransom of glittering gems that Nick had rejected.
Then, suddenly, he brightened. “I have just the thing,” he said, holding up a finger.
“One moment, please, Mr. Soames.” He asked a colleague to put the unsuitable offerings away and hurried to the back of the store.
There, he unlocked a tall cabinet, extracted a rectangular leather box, then returned to Nick.
“This necklace arrived this morning with a collection of jewelry from the continent. We haven’t put any of the pieces out yet,” he explained, placing the box down on the display case. “It’s for a certain type of woman, one who doesn’t follow trends but sets them.”
As George undid the clasp and eased the lid back, Nick caught his breath.
Inside the box, nestled on a bed of black velvet, a dragonfly rested on a flowering branch.
It was so lifelike, Nick half-expected it to take flight.
Its eyes were cabochon emeralds, its body a line of shimmering opals, its weblike wings delicately enameled in a translucent bluegreen.
The flower petals were shaped from mother-of-pearl.
The branches themselves, cast in gold, formed a collar-like structure.
It was an original, elegant and striking. Like Fiona herself.
“It’s perfect. Put it on my account,” Nick said. He’d seen the price tag. It would eat up every cent of the profits from the Van Gogh sale and then some. He didn’t care.
“Very good, sir,” said George. He turned to the wooden counter behind him to wrap the box.
Nick smiled, allowing himself to imagine Fiona’s reaction as she opened his gift.
As he waited for George to finish, a happy din from the shoppers around him drifted to his ears.
It was a Friday afternoon and the store was full of people.
A giddy teenage girl tried on a bracelet.
An older gentleman perused a tray of watch fobs.
A young couple picked out wedding rings.
But one voice, gratingly pedantic, rose insistently above all the others, marring the merry hubbub.
“…therefore, in my opinion, sir, what you require is a lighter undergarment. You must try my sleeveless, knee-length union suit. It employs long-staple cotton for breathability with a patented closed-crotch construction and separate front and back openings that allow for superior ventilation. Another important benefit? Roomy, one piece fabrication, which ensures an absence of constriction in the midsection thus alleviating biliousness…”
Nick froze, like a gazelle sensing a lion in the tall grass. He turned his head slowly, eyes sweeping back and forth, scanning the room.
And then he spotted him.
Milton Duffery.
He was standing at a counter, a few yards away, his body turned from Nick at a three-quarter angle. He was talking to a salesman—who was doing his best to hide his mortification—about underwear.
Nick’s eyes widened in panic. I have to get out of here . Right now , he thought. Before the Duffery sees me and inquires about my undergarments.
He was about to turn back to George, blabber some fib about a forgotten lunch reservation, and ask him to hurry, when he saw the salesman hand something to Milton Duffery.
It was a ring.
A diamond ring.
Nick’s heart nearly skidded to a stop. As he watched, motionless with horror, Milton Duffery held the ring up to the light, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He examined it, squinting, turning it this way and that, then tucked it into a ring box that was resting on the counter.
“Shall I wrap it for you, sir?” the salesman asked.
“No need,” Milton Duffery said, as he dropped the little box into his jacket pocket. “The box will keep it safe until I give it to her.”
“Good God,” Nick whispered, pressing a hand to his chest. “When, pudding, when ?”
“Here you are, Mr. Soames. I’m sorry if I took too long,” George said, concern on his face. He held out Nick’s purchase, now wrapped and tucked inside a pretty bag.
Nick realized George thought his urgent question had been directed at him. “You didn’t take too long, George. And you are most definitely not a pudding. Must dash,” he said, snatching the bag.
Pulling his hat down low over his face, Nick made a run for it, hoping against hope that Milton Duffery did not turn around as he passed by. A few seconds later, he was safely outside the store and hurrying through Union Square.
Fiona had given him an errand to do that morning.
She’d made arrangements with Thomas McTaggart, a house painter, to repaint the grocery shop, and she’d asked Nick to drop off the deposit.
But it would have to wait. Milton Duffery had just bought a diamond ring.
Nick had to find Fiona and tell her immediately.
She’d said that Milton Duffery was going to move fast, and he had not believed her, but she was right.
They would have to come up with a plan and fast. There was no time to waste.
The threat was real. It was dire.
The pudding could strike at any moment.