Deception by Diamonds

By Barbara Erlichman

When Rowena Carrington, one of America’s foremost paperweight experts, breaks a paperweight, she realizes that diamonds have been embedded in the glass. She suspects that her client, Eduardo Bellardi, and Hugo Drake, her boss and the owner of Drake Galleries, are the masterminds of a plot to smuggle diamonds out of the U.S. She visits the FBI, but Special Agent Michael Hauser dismisses her story, especially since she has no proof. It isn’t until a member of Rowena’s family is murdered that Michael believes her. Working together, they discover that the diamonds were removed from jewelry looted from Italian museums during World War II. Friendship explodes into passion as the trail of clues leads them to Italy and a conspiracy that will rip the European Union apart. Fueled by his ruthless ambition, Bellardi is only days from grabbing power — and he’ll kill anyone who stands in his way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9781532080678

Barbara Erlichman

British-born and educated, Barbara Erlichman came to New York where she met her future husband and they opened a rare coin and collectibles company. She is the author of One of a Kind, Yesterday’s Enemy and The Judas Hoard. Barbara and her husband now live in Florida. Contact at [e-mail]

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Any advance on two thousand dollars? Surveying the crowd, the auctioneer added, Fair warning.

Standing in the rear of Christie’s packed salesroom, Rowena Carrington gazed longingly at the screen beside the auctioneer. Although the paperweight glittered with an almost lifelike brilliance, the image was a poor substitute for the real thing. No photograph could capture the fire that blazed deep inside the flame-colored dahlia, or reproduce the cool, smooth feel of glass.

This was her dream paperweight. Lot ninety-six. The sleeper of the sale—even if it was unsigned. Rowena had recognized Carradan’s technique the instant she saw the photograph in Christie’s catalogue. Carradan paperweights rarely came up for auction which had made this sale all the more important. With or without a signature, she wanted it.

But on the day of the auction it soon became obvious that a number of other people also wanted lot ninety-six. Bidding started at seven hundred dollars and rapidly rose to two thousand. And two thousand dollars represented her top bid. As Manager of Glass Art at the Hugo Drake Gallery, she knew better than to get involved in a bidding war. Concealing her dismay at losing the lot, she headed for the exit. As she left the room, she heard the lot hammered down for three thousand dollars to Bidder 137.

Ryan Fitzgerald again, she thought angrily. That’s six Carradan weights he’s bought today.

After returning her paddle to the front desk, she glanced outside at Rockefeller Center. Several sheets of newspaper swirled around a trash can, evidence that a bitter January wind still buffeted Manhattan. She was struggling into her heavy woolen coat when someone grabbed the collar.

Let me help you with that.

Recognizing Jim Shaw’s gruff voice, Rowena accepted his offer with a grateful smile. He was one of her favorite paperweight dealers, an old-timer who owned a small store in New Jersey. Thanks. I sure could use a friend right now.

Thought you might. It’s never pleasant to be shut out on every lot and Fitzgerald was more cocky than usual. Since he normally sticks with best sellers like Baccarat and Clichy, he surprised me buying all those Carradan weights.

Me, too, but I guarantee he has a plan, Rowena said, buttoning up her coat. With a touch of malice, she added, Ryan may have bought up a storm, but at least he didn’t get any bargains. His clients will be paying top dollar.

Shaw’s expression darkened. "His clients! He stole them from other dealers with promises of astronomical returns on investment."

Ryan’s very ambitious and wants his gallery to be the biggest and best on the east coast. He spends mega bucks with everyone, especially us. Except for Carradan weights.

Rowena’s last remark came out almost as an afterthought, setting off faint alarm bells in her head. In fact, Ryan had never paid much attention to the artist before, so why the sudden interest?

Well, it seems that he has a new strategy, Shaw said. While looking at lots yesterday, I overheard him telling John Dexter he’d tried to persuade Carradan to join his gallery.

What do you mean? Rowena stopped searching for her gloves to look at Shaw. Everyone knows Carradan has an exclusive contract with Drake’s.

Doesn’t bother Fitzgerald. Shaw looked outraged. He said he told Carradan that Drake’s may not always be the most lucrative outlet.

Rowena stiffened as she recalled a similar incident from several months earlier. Ryan had asked her to get an invitation to Carradan’s studio. She’d replied that Carradan hated having visitors which she thought had closed the subject. But it hadn’t, she realized. Ryan had just been biding his time.

Shaw continued, You wouldn’t have seen that years ago when this was a profession for gentlemen. And ladies, he added quickly. Back then, dealers considered paperweights to be an art form, but they only want to make a fast buck these days. Fitzgerald’s typical. Doesn’t see beauty or skill in his inventory, just how much money it will bring.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps broke the crypt-like silence and people swarmed into Christie’s cavernous lobby. As excited as football fans after a game, they were swapping stories about the just-finished auction.

Scanning faces, Shaw said, Well, here’s Fitzgerald in person. Probably hopes to impress you with some of his Irish charm. Just be careful, my dear. He’s up to no good.

As Shaw strolled away, Rowena forced herself to greet Ryan cordially, hiding both her anger and the growing suspicion that his friendliness was a facade. He was always too ready with questions about the Drake Gallery, overly interested in her sales.

Ryan’s grin bore no trace of remorse. Can’t chat. Have to pick up all my lots.

Good intentions forgotten, Rowena snapped, Not before you explain one thing. Why buy all those Carradan weights—including an unsigned one?

It was a public auction. I can buy anything I want, Ryan laughed.

"Six Carradan weights, she seethed. Couldn’t you let me have one?"

All you had to do was outbid me.

Rowena glared at him. What’s going on?

Just trying to buy good deals for my clients. We don’t all have multimillionaire clients with unlimited funds.

Rowena managed to hide her shock. What are you talking about?

Eduardo Bellardi. I’ve heard he has a world-class collection of paperweights.

For a moment Rowena was speechless. Bellardi’s identity was a closely-guarded secret and Drake Gallery employees had been instantly fired for revealing clients’ names. If it’s true, then he must be working directly with Hugo, she finally said.

Strange. Ryan’s eyes hardened. Most collectors prefer to work with you. After all, you are one of the leading authorities on paperweights.

Hugo, though, can give him much better prices, Rowena pointed out.

Her lie was rapidly escalating, but Christie’s lobby wasn’t the place to extricate herself. Too many people were around, alert for the slightest hint of gossip. Desperate to escape Ryan, she cast around for an excuse.

I must go. I have a noon meeting back at the office.

Leaving the auction house, Rowena realized that Ryan wasn’t interested in friendship. He’d set his sights on both Carradan and Bellardi and would willingly sacrifice her to get them. Another equally unwelcome thought surfaced. Was he aware of Bellardi’s passion for Carradan weights? And what about her other clients? Could Ryan know about them, too? From now on, she had to be constantly on her guard if she wanted to keep her job. One thoughtless word and everything could be lost to Ryan.

CHAPTER 2

Rowena loved her job. Her passion for paperweights dated back to her sixteenth birthday when she visited the Corning Museum in New York State. The collection had fascinated her, especially the slender glass canes that made up many of the intricate designs. Their colors had sparkled more brightly than gemstones and she had lingered, spellbound, until her mother threatened to drag her away.

Once home she immediately headed for the local library and checked out every book on paperweights. Next, she’d joined the Paperweight Collectors Club and soon became a familiar figure at meetings and conventions, a shy young girl whose face glowed with delight when dealers took the time to answer her questions.

After graduating from Tufts University with a degree in Fine Arts, she found a low-paying job at a New York auction house. Her interest in glass art was noticed and she was promoted to Assistant Manager of the Ceramics and Glass Department where she quickly became the go-to person for paperweights. As her reputation as an expert grew, she landed on the radar of Hugo Drake, one of the icons of the art world.

Drake had arrived in America decades earlier with little more than an entrancing English accent, boundless reservoirs of charm, and a knack for predicting what Americans would want to collect. His only tangible asset was a collection of paintings by obscure European artists that he promoted as investments in the future. Within two years the paintings had doubled in value and he opened the Hugo Drake Gallery. Thanks to a loyal clientele, the company thrived despite recessions, inflation, and all the other economic indicators that should have meant bankruptcy.

The rising popularity of glass art convinced Drake to open a paperweight department and he asked the then twenty-eight-year-old Rowena to be the manager. It was the opportunity of a lifetime and she’d jumped at his offer. The many long hours she’d put in over the last year had made the department a huge success and established her as one of the profession’s most respected dealers.

But all that hard work now seemed to be in jeopardy. Although a week had passed since the auction, Ryan Fitzgerald and his new-found interest in Carradan continued to concern her. She suspected he either intended to manipulate the market or go after her clients. As much as her clients liked her, if another dealer offered Carradan paperweights for less money they’d be off. Almost positive that Ryan was all set to stab her in the back, it took only a simple message to send Rowena over the edge. Catapulting out of her chair, she glared at her assistant.

"You did what?"

Linda’s normally cheerful face lost its smile. Hey, calm down. I haven’t committed any crime, like selling state secrets or anything. All I did was tell Ryan that you’d be here this afternoon because a weight’s due.

A Carradan weight, Rowena corrected her coldly.

It’s hardly classified information, Linda pointed out. That’s what you told Stanley Orme when he was here earlier.

Taking a deep breath, Rowena got herself back in control. You’re right. Sorry for over-reacting but I’m still mad at Ryan for getting all those Carradan weights last week. Do me a favor and put him off when he arrives. Tell him I’m with Hugo, anything. But make it clear I’m not available.

I’ll do my best, but he can be very persistent, Linda said.

I know. Nothing escapes him, Rowena said, thinking that Ryan had certainly done his homework on Eduardo Bellardi.

Eduardo Bellardi.

The name sent a sudden chill through her. He was due in at three o’clock. What if he and Ryan arrived at the same time? The young dealer would waste no time in whisking Bellardi off for drinks at the Four Seasons Hotel. There, Ryan would bewitch the other man with visions of enough paperweights, Carradans especially, to satisfy even the most insatiable collector.

Rowena gripped the edge of her desk. Does Ryan know that Eduardo Bellardi will be here later?

Linda’s copper-colored curls quivered with indignation. For God’s sake, Ro, stop treating me like a moron. Everyone knows customers’ names are sacred. I’d never reveal one, not even under torture.

I don’t think that will happen. Relaxing slightly, Rowena continued, However, when Ryan turns up, get rid of him as quickly as possible and make sure he actually leaves the premises. I don’t want him around.

I thought you liked him. And he sure likes you. He’s always asking you for a date.

He’s a fun guy but he can be ruthless. It will also be very inconvenient to have both him and Eduardo here at the same time. Eduardo takes priority over everyone else.

Linda seemed ready to disagree but the phone on Rowena’s desk rang. Answering it, she quickly took care of the caller.

That was Chuck, she told Rowena, referring to the manager of the Shipping Department. Carradan’s weight just arrived. He has an urgent package to get out, then he’ll bring it over.

Good humor restored, Rowena smiled. Chuck called on purpose. He knows I’ll never wait if a paperweight’s in the mail room. I’ll go for it right now. Pushing back her chair, she stood up. Sorry I snapped, Lin. I won’t do it again.

You’re forgiven, her assistant chuckled. I don’t remember the last time it happened.

Leaving her office, Rowena hurried to the rear of the building. Although the federal-style mansion had started life as one of Manhattan’s largest private residences, all that remained of its former elegance was the marble staircase. The mail room, with its metal counters and cubbyholes, was completely charmless.

Rowena spotted her package the moment she walked into the deserted room and quickly unwrapped it. At first glance Carradan’s latest paperweight was a disappointment, much of its life dulled by the florescent light. Switching on the tensor lamp further down the counter, she slowly rotated the weight. The five crystals shimmered like ice in the moonlight until a burst of color erupted from one of the facets. Entranced, she stepped backward to watch the mosaic of rainbow hues dance on the ceiling—and found herself suspended in air. Instinctively, she groped for the handrail that ran beside the stone staircase.

Idiot, she raged silently. Why didn’t you check on the door to the basement?

In the struggle to stay upright, she forgot about the weight and it shot out of her hand like a heat-seeking missile. Heading straight for the basement floor, it landed with a crash that echoed throughout the gallery.

Transfixed with horror, Rowena clung to the rail for a moment before racing down the steps. There was no need for haste. Except for two crystals, the exquisitely-crafted paperweight was smashed beyond repair.

Staring at the mess, Rowena’s suspicions of the last few months returned with a vengeance. Now they didn’t seem so farfetched. Crouching down, she picked up one of the crystals and etched a wobbly but recognizable R into a piece of glass. As the sound of running footsteps grew closer, she shoved the marked fragment into her blazer pocket and tried to stay calm. Although it looked like a broken paperweight, she knew this was a life-changing disaster.

Hugo Drake, the gallery’s chairman and sole proprietor was the first to reach her.

Are you hurt? he demanded, helping her to stand.

Shaking her head, she choked, No, but I dropped Carradan’s newest paperweight. How could I be so stupid? And Eduardo Bellardi’s on his way over. He couldn’t wait to see it.

Don’t worry, I’ll speak to him. I’m sure he’ll understand. Hugo gingerly prodded the glass slivers. There’s not much chance of salvaging this. Carradan will have to start over.

Having no argument with the obvious, Rowena concentrated on controlling her breathing as Hugo continued to poke at the shattered remains for several more seconds.

Straightening up, he said, I’ll also call Carradan to explain, without mentioning any names naturally. We can’t tell him that Drake’s paperweight expert dropped his most recent creation.

With a paternal arm draped around Rowena’s shoulders, he steered her up the steps to the now-crowded mailroom. Rowena’s colleagues looked at her with concern.

Nothing to worry about, Hugo announced, guiding Rowena toward the door. Just a slight mishap. Chuck, please clean up the glass and be careful not to cut yourself.

Although they walked to the paperweight department in silence, Hugo’s face softened into a smile when they reached her office.

Cheer up, he said, giving her arm a reassuring pat. Accidents do happen, and if I can’t afford the occasional breakage, then I shouldn’t be in business. Just be more careful around staircases in the future.

Rowena nodded faintly and entered her office where she slumped into her chair. She needed a distraction, preferably a difficult customer but the adjoining showroom was deserted.

After a quick tap on the door, Linda entered the small room. Setting down a mug of coffee on Rowena’s desk, she said, Figured you could use this. Did you just do what I think you did?

Yep. Rowena cradled the mug in her hands grateful for its warmth. I broke Carradan’s paperweight.

Linda’s face paled, revealing each of her innumerable freckles. How?

I couldn’t wait to see it and opened the box near the stairs to the basement. Next thing I knew I was on the top step and the paperweight was at the bottom. In case you’re interested, the basement floor’s concrete.

I’ll remember that, but I don’t intend to look at anything anywhere near that staircase. People like me don’t get the chance to explain themselves. Hugo would can me on the spot.

Linda’s words sent a shiver down Rowena’s spine. Hugo wouldn’t fire her for breaking a paperweight; after all, he had said it was an accident. But her reputation would take a hit when news of the breakage buzzed around the paperweight industry’s grapevine.

Heaving a deep sigh, she said, I wish it were still yesterday.

Drink your coffee, Linda advised. You’ll feel better after that. It’s quiet at the moment so you can recover in peace. I’ll handle any visitors or calls.

Once alone, Rowena sipped her coffee, but the hot liquid did little to calm her. With fingers that trembled slightly, she took out the piece of glass and stared at the scratch for long minutes. This was the proof she needed. Carradan hadn’t used five ordinary crystals to form the paperweight’s unique design—just three. The other two were diamonds.

Only diamonds would produce that brilliant diffusion of light.

Carefully she rubbed a fingertip over the crudely formed letter. And only diamonds could scratch glass so cleanly and easily.

Maybe Ryan did intend to set himself up as a specialist in Carradan paperweights, but only to mask his real motive. As Jim Shaw had pointed out, the young dealer didn’t appreciate beauty, only the money to be made from beautiful objects. He probably intended to smash the weights and take out the diamonds. Yet how could he have known about them?

Because, she remembered, he had been in her office when one of the crystal weights arrived. Explaining that it was Carradan’s latest style and she already had a buyer, she had only let him look.

And look he did—Ryan had appeared totally mesmerized. Back then she figured it was a connoisseur’s appreciation of beauty. Now, she guessed it was the diamonds. The mystery was how he knew.

Unbidden, another memory floated free. Ryan had taken a lapidary course in college where he’d learned about different gems—especially diamonds.

And on his next trip he’d started to pester her for a date, probably hoping to exploit her relationship with Carradan. As a wave of rage swept over her, she never saw Linda until the younger woman waved her hand.

In response to Rowena’s blank stare, Linda said, "Did