Free 11 Harrowhouse by Gerald A Browne Page B

sat with his back to the door. He heard it open and close, heard footsteps coming to the table. He brought his eyes up. It was Watts.
    â€œGood afternoon, sir,” greeted Watts. He was carrying a black container proportioned like an ordinary shoebox, about half the size.
    â€œHello, Watts.”
    Watts was opposite Chesser now. He placed the box on the table. “I’m to show you some stones, sir.”
    â€œWon’t Mr. Meecham be here?”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    Chesser felt cheated. He might never get another chance at Meecham. At least, not like this. He wanted to walk out. He was angry enough, but this wasn’t the kind of business where you could take your business elsewhere. He thought of demanding that Meecham conduct the sight, but there was Watts and perhaps Watts would take that as an insult.
    Fuck it, thought Chesser and smiled at Watts. “What have you brought for me to see?”
    â€œThree stones altogether, sir,” said Watts rather proudly. He removed the lid from the box and transferred three large, rough diamonds to the velour surface in front of Chesser.
    Chesser put his loupe to his eye. He picked up the first stone.
    â€œThat’s three hundred seventy-six carats, sir,” informed Watts.
    Chesser sighted into it. He knew what to look for but he thought he saw all sorts of things he shouldn’t. The trouble was he wasn’t accustomed to such large stones. Size created an entirely different dimension, it seemed. He couldn’t determine whether the stone was good quality or not. He thought it had a great many feathers and carbon spots. From one angle the spots appeared to be inconsequentially on the edges, from another angle they looked deep and spoiling. Chesser wished he knew more.
    He couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Not this time. He started to sweat. Now he was glad Meecham wasn’t there.
    Watts said nothing all the while Chesser examined the three stones. He sensed Chesser’s predicament.
    â€œThe one in the center, sir,” said Watts.
    â€œWhat about it?”
    â€œExcellent color.”
    Watts was trying to help. He knew more about grading diamonds than anyone else in The System, or so Chesser had heard. But Chesser wasn’t sure he could trust the man. Conceivably Meecham was trying to unload that particular stone on him. Via Watts. Chesser decided he didn’t really believe that. He picked up the stone and examined it again. It was the smallest of the three, more rectangular, about three-quarters of an inch deep, a little more than an inch wide, and one and a half inches long.
    â€œTwo hundred five point sixty carats,” said Watts. “I put a window on it.”
    Chesser located the small, polished area that allowed him to sight deep into the stone. He saw it was clear white, no devaluating yellow, and no apparent imperfections.
    â€œHow do you think it will cut?” asked Chesser.
    â€œThe grain is right for an oval. If you don’t mind my suggestion, sir.”
    â€œNot at all.”
    â€œYou should finish with a perfect stone about half the weight. Perhaps a little more. Anyway, a real good one.”
    Chesser had to ask: “If it’s such a winner, why’s it still around?”
    â€œIt just came in with the shipment from Botswana. Even Mr. Meecham hasn’t seen it yet.”
    Chesser believed him.
    â€œMy only instructions from Mr. Meecham were to show you a few stones in this size range, and I thought you’d particularly like this one. Of course, it may not meet your requirements.”
    â€œWhat’s the price?”
    â€œSeven hundred thousand.”
    Chesser listened to his intuition. “I’ll take it,” he said quickly. Watts’s smile told him he’d made the right decision. Chesser was grateful.
    â€œShall we complete the transaction, sir?”
    â€œTomorrow. I’ll come by with a certified check.”
    â€œIf you prefer, we can deliver