Free Midnight in Ruby Bayou by Elizabeth Lowell Page A

heat-treated. That’s about as rare these days as a natural pearl.”
    For a time Archer was silent. “Is there that much old jewelry floating around for sale?”
    â€œGems have always been an aristocrat’s savings account. Think about all those centuries of European and Russian and Middle Eastern royalty. Think about all those nasty revolutions, wars, and financial crashes. Think about the cold economics and even colder economies of the former Soviet Union. Yeah, there are lots of family jewels for sale. Some of them are well worth buying.”
    â€œInteresting idea.” Archer looked out at the wind-whipped bay. “Any idea how to go about getting a handle on this resale market?”
    â€œFaith’s friends—the ones who sent her the rubies she’s working on—might be a good place to start.”
    Archer glanced at the door to his office. On the other side of it would soon be a sister he loved very much. A sister who was mad enough right now to scalp him with a dull knife. “Yeah, she mentioned something about those rubies. Said you stole them.”
    â€œRoad apples. She wouldn’t come with me and I wasn’t going to leave rubies like that in the belly drawer of a bench in an unlocked shop in Pioneer Square.”
    â€œIf I sit here long enough, you’ll tell me something useful.”
    â€œThe rubies Faith’s friends sent her are fine, fine stones.”
    Archer’s black eyebrows went up. “How good?”
    â€œThe best I’ve seen outside of museums and royal treasuries.”
    At first a soft whistle was Archer’s only answer. Then, “How much are they worth?”
    â€œRetail?”
    â€œWholesale.”
    â€œEvery cent of the million she’s trying to get them insured for. A lot more, in my opinion. A big Burmese ruby that hasn’t been heat-treated is more valuable than any other gemstone on earth, including diamonds.”
    â€œSo what’s the problem with getting insurance?”
    â€œThe GIA appraisers are backed up. They can’t guarantee getting the job done in time for Faith to set the rubies and polish the necklace up before the Savannah show. The insurers won’t sign on unless the GIA folks certify the rubies’ worth. No one wants to underwrite what might be a scam.”
    â€œWhat kind of scam?”
    â€œThe usual. Fake appraisal, fake gems, fake theft, real insurance claim paid off in real cash.”
    â€œThese rubies came from friends of Faith.”
    Walker thought about how very dead you could get trusting friends you hadn’t seen in a while. He had trusted the man who sent him into ambush. An old friend.
    â€œWhatever,” Walker said. “Even if you could get the gems appraised through an approved lab fast enough for the Savannah show, a lot of appraisers are too young to recognize natural Burmese rubies on sight, or even after a bunch of tests. Appraisal is almost as much art as science. You need a natural eye or wide experience to catch the nuances. There aren’t that many real, natural, high-quality Burmese rubies floating around.”
    â€œBut Faith’s rubies are real, natural, and high-quality.” Though Archer said nothing more, there was a question buried in his words.
    Smiling, Walker reached down and began to unload the contents of the carton he had carried in. In short order he set up a binocular microscope, a polariscope, and an ultraviolet light on the low coffee table in front of the couch. Then he pulled out several small boxes. Among them was the one containing the gem packets that he had taken from Faith’s shop.
    The intercom on Archer’s desk buzzed, Mitchell trying to sound a warning. A second later the door to the office opened.
    Walker didn’t even look up. He already knew that the lady in the black cashmere slacks, ice-blue silk blouse, and black cashmere blazer was mad enough to take chunks out of his hide and never