18mm Blues (51 page)

“Thank you,” Julia arched.

“Pity about Lesage drowning like that,” Kumura said to get that obligatory subject over and done with. “I've already made arrangements. In fact, at this very moment his body is on its way to France, presumably for a Foreign Legion funeral with all the military trappings. Lesage would have wanted that, don't you think?”

The irony provoked grins.

“As for Paulette, she departed sometime during the night. Abandoned the Corniche at the airport and took off for who knows where.”

To meet someone someplace whom she can say she'd met any number of other places, Julia thought.

“She certainly made a mess of the cabin door,” Kumura said. “Shot the bloody hell out of it. Evidently in a panic trying to get out, although I still don't see how she could have possibly locked herself in.”

“That's just one mystery,” Grady said.

“What about these?” William asked. He placed two bright blue pearls on the pale blue tablecloth.

Kumura took them up, studied them briefly with intense interest. “Where did you get these?”

William told him.

“Are they naturals?” Kumura asked.

“You tell me,” William said.

“No, I defer to an expert.” Kumura handed the two pearls to Grady, who barely made a fist around them before pronouncing them cultured and dyed. (He'd had a look at them earlier with his loupe.)

“I trust your insight,” Kumura said, “but I must say I've no idea how such blues should be in Lesage's possession.”

“Then it remains a mystery,” Julia put in conclusively. She'd been looking out at the bay and imagining how she'd paint it. She felt newly spirited, longing to face a fresh canvas, eager to get on with her life with Grady. So different a person than she'd been before. She loved him, no doubt about that. He would be the recipient of her time. She wasn't going to try to understand the various strange ways she'd behaved, no use chasing after such answers. Better that she accept what she'd experienced, benefit by it, know that from here on in she needn't give any energy to doubt or despair at being insular. “May I please have more coffee?” she said to one of the attending servants. Grady passed her the toast. She slathered a piece deservedly with damson preserves.

Kumura folded the
London Times
he'd been reading, placed it aside, revealing beneath it a legal document. “The agreement I had with Lesage now proves to be a provident one,” he said. “It stipulates without the hindrance of fine print that upon his untimely or”—he said aside—“even his timely death, all rights to the pearl farm here shall revert to me. That includes as well the house down the way, its contents, cars, and so on, everything of Lesage's.”

“Some deal,” Grady commented.

“As it turns out,” Kumura agreed phlegmatically, “the only distressing thing is how this farm could tie me down if I let it. Not that I'm not interested and proud of it and all that, but I'm at the point where I'd prefer to be able to come and go when I please. For example, this afternoon I leave for New York and then on to London and Milan. I have pressing appointments in those places, and I'd like to have the liberty of getting waylaid if I so choose. So, I desperately need someone to look after Bang Wan for me, someone who knows pearls, loves pearls.”

“What would that person get in return?” Grady asked.

“Same as Lesage received,” Kumura told him, “limited partnership, proportionate share of profits.”

“Lesage's house?”

“Included.”

“And contents.”

“Of course. Will you do it?”

It was a sweet offer. Grady appeared to be turning it over in his mind. He pictured himself either here forever in Bang Wan or in San Francisco. No contest. “William's your man,” Grady said.

William sat up.

“He told me just the other night that he was ready to fold the Lady So Remembered Gem-Cutting Factory,” Grady said. “Didn't you, William?”

William managed a yes.

“I'd considered putting it to William,” Kumura improvised. “It was just that I thought, considering the circumstances, you should have first shot.”

“But you agree to William?”

“Offhand I can't think of any reason why I shouldn't,” Kumura replied.

“Is that a yes?”

Kumura considered a moment and said it was.

“That's good,” Grady said, “because I promised him we'd be doing a lot of business together.”

Kumura was genuinely satisfied with this spontaneously revised arrangement. He extended his hand.

William shook it.

Done?

Done.

“Now,” Grady said, “what about my San Francisco deal? I suppose now you want no part of me, or maybe that was just bullshit all the way.”

Kumura was amused. “To the contrary, Grady,” he said. “I've had your contract drawn up. In fact, I have it right here.” He handed the legal document to Grady, who, in looking it over, skipped those parts that said what he had to do and read twice those parts that said what he'd get. Kumura, true to his nature, had been more generous than he'd initially proposed.

“Will you sign?” Kumura asked.

Grady had already given it enough advance thought, just in case. “On two conditions,” he said. “First, I get time off to get married.” He glanced to Julia. This still wasn't asking her properly, but she let it go.

“And your second condition?”

“I get to borrow your ketch for a week starting tomorrow.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

In 1989 the State Law and Order Restoration Council of Burma officially changed many well-established names. It was decreed that henceforth the Union of Burma would be referred to as the Union of Myanmar and the city of Rangoon would be called Yangon. For the sake of clarity the author has taken the license of using the old and more familiar designations.

About the Author

Gerald A. Browne is the
New York Times
–bestselling author of ten novels including
11 Harrowhouse, 19 Purchase Street
, and
Stone 588
. His books have been translated into more than twenty languages, and several have been made into films. He attended the University of Mexico, Columbia University, and the Sorbonne, and has worked as a fashion photographer, an advertising executive, and a screenwriter. He lives in Southern California.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1993 by Pulse Productions, Inc.

Cover design by Jason Gabbert

ISBN: 978-1-4804-7853-4

This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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EBOOKS BY GERALD A. BROWNE

FROM OPEN ROAD MEDIA