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During dessert, Torres got up from the table. She watched him shake Escoffier’s hand. He was leaving. She excused herself to go “powder my nose.” She was stunned when all the men stood up as she rose from her seat. At least they’re polite. Torres opened the big door for her and walked over to the valet door to retrieve his suit jacket. He looked around for some assistance, but there was no one to assist him. Melanie lingered in the vestibule and watched Torres go inside the coat room. When he exited, she swore he was wearing a different jacket from the one he’d arrived in. It didn’t match his pants. She had to think fast. Gilmour was already in the hallway. One of the agents had alerted him when Melanie left the dining hall. She motioned with her hand to get something to drink. She decided to take a risk and engage Torres in conversation as he was adjusting the ill-fitting jacket. She hoped Gilmour would appear with a glass of something quickly.
“Mr. Torres. You are leaving so soon?” She could see the perspiration collecting on his forehead. “Is everything alright?” She stood between him and the main door.
“Sí. Yes. Fine.” He pulled out a handkerchief and patted his head.
“Oh, I think perhaps you should sit down and have a glass of water.” She took his arm and tried to guide him to the sitting room.
He briskly pulled his arm away. “No! Please! I am fine.”
Gilmour appeared with a glass of water and handed it to Melanie.
“Here, drink this.” As she handed the glass to Torres, she purposely fumbled and spilled the water all over the front of his jacket. “Oh, I am so sorry!” She took his handkerchief and started to blot his jacket. That was when she felt it. Something that felt like pebbles sewn into the jacket lining.
He was huffing. “Please! I am fine!” His arms were flapping wildly.
Melanie watched Gilmour speak into the cuff of his sleeve. He motioned for Melanie to continue to try to detain Torres.
“Oh, I feel awful. I hope I didn’t ruin your jacket.”
Torres calmed down a bit. “Please, señora, I must leave now. I have emergencies.”
Melanie glanced at Gilmour again. He gave her a nod.
“Oh, of course. Again, my apologies.” She walked him to the main door and held it open as she watched him hurry to the black town car waiting at the foot of the steps. Torres didn’t recognize the driver who got out and opened the rear passenger door.
“Good evening, sir. I’m Charles. Your driver wasn’t feeling well and asked me to cover for him. I hope you do not mind. You are going to Dulles Airport?”
Torres looked him up and down. The driver was dressed in the same uniform as the first one had been wearing. “Yes, por favor. Rápidamente.”
Melanie recognized the voice of the driver. It was James. She shut the door and nodded to Gilmour. He spoke into his sleeve again, and Melanie returned to the dining room.
Leeds stood and pulled out her chair. “We were beginning to wonder what happened to you.”
“Thank you. I was speaking with Mr. Torres. He had to leave early.” She scanned the table. The only one who looked in her direction was Yassin Cumbe from Mozambique, neighbor to Zimbabwe, a place notorious for its blood diamonds.
The chatter around the table continued for another hour. Melanie was able to breathe normally as she listened to one of the agents tell Gilmour the plan was a go.
Cigar smoke filled the room, and fine brandy was served. Her eyes were stinging, although the aroma wasn’t as unpleasant as she’d thought it would be.
Several miles away, a half dozen police cars were blocking an intersection. They appeared to be checking inside vehicles. When the black town car approached the front of the line, a patrolman asked for identification. James showed him something that looked official. The patrolman asked if he would roll down the privacy glass that separated the front from the back seat. Torres didn’t move. The officer leaned in. “May I see some identification, sir?”
“I have diplomatic immunity,” Torres said.
“I still need to see some identification.”
Torres checked his breast pocket. Then his pants pocket. He knew he’d collected his passport from his original jacket. Had he dropped it in the confusion with that woman? “I don’t seem to have it on me.”
“I am going to have to ask you to step out of the car, sir.”
Torres was beginning to shake. “I promise you I have the correct documents. They are at the club.” Torres began fishing for his phone. That, too, was missing.
“Sir, please step out of the car,” the officer insisted.
James took the cue. He opened the driver’s door and then the rear passenger door. Torres begrudgingly got out of the vehicle. What he didn’t notice was the small razor in James’s hand. Before anyone could take another step, diamonds began to rain down from Torres’s jacket. Two agents wearing black suits appeared from behind one of the police cars to cuff Torres and take him away. Two other agents photographed the scene and removed the evidence. When they finished, they gave James the signal he was free to go.
James pulled back into the club driveway just as Melanie appeared on the steps. He got out and opened the door for her. “Did you have a pleasant evening, miss?”
“It was quite interesting.” As they continued toward the road, another stretch limo passed them and continued to the front of the mansion.
