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“Your murder board for jewels is impressive…”
She has a big pin board set up, like in crime shows. Complete with string connecting things. I look at it, running my fingers lightly along a piece of string connecting a picture of a beautiful cuff and ring set to a name.
The piece I’m looking at is Celtic in design and links to Declan Kelly. Declan, one of the Quinate. But I know Harry, and she doesn’t think this is the final piece. She just likes to organize, work things out on a visual level.
It makes sense. I steal what I’m asked to or what I want. She sees the values and connections that often means we can get a better price. So this one is Quinate, but not of primary interest.
“Like really fucking impressive,” I say, looking at her.
Harry grins. “I know. I’ve worked it all into piles. The jewels we know about and the possible families who might have the last two pieces. The ring and these.” She points at a pair of earrings. “I think it’s these.”
I look at them, and my heart beats faster. I want them.
Some might think they’re ugly, but I covet their ornate beauty, the gold that twists and turns around them. Dark rubies, black diamonds, and sapphires burn with fires in their depths.
“I’d pierce my ears for those.” I touch the photo. “Just to wear them.”
“I’m sure they’re clip ons,” says Harry.
I slide her a look. “You have no soul.”
“That’s a lie.” She crosses her arms and stomps off for her whiskey. Upstairs Jill’s keeping watch and giving us space, but I know time’s limited. “It’s just made of commonsense and avarice. I don’t care about froufrou like you.”
“You’re a heathen, Harry.”
A heathen with an eye that complements mine. I get a little light headed looking at all the gorgeous beauties on the board, and I’m not fucking talking the hot men.
“What do you see there?” she asks.
I know you’re seeing the bigger picture—”
“I always do, Lena. Because I’m not thinking through teeny, tiny ovaries.” I swing a look at her but she laughs. “Low blow, sorry.” Then the laughter fades. “This is my expertise, like fencing. I see those other connections. Not just the obvious.”
“Why you’ve helped make us richer than we might be.”
“Got your back, babe,” she says.
There’s a list of families that, when I look at them, have owned various jewels on the iPad list. Those from that original list are up, too.
“Do you think the Quinate themselves are important?”
She blows out a breath and touches one of them. Maximo Correia. “No, but I’m not ruling any one with money or criminal connections in the city. They all have jewels.”
I look from Declan to Maximo to Ivan, the other three Quinate.
Then their jewels they have. “They all love shiny.”
“They all love money,” she says. “Jewels and art and rare things are all a sign of power and wealth. And old jewels and treasures often have history, stories. So I’m trying to focus on that. Find out the stories.”
“Stories often hold truths,” I say.
She nods. “Truth is power.”
“And power opens all kinds of doors.”
“Like the Quinate.” Harry looks at me.
Hendrick and Jac are both the type not to hold water to stories. They also know how their secret little ruling society works.
