came from. A diamond of that size doesn’t come all by itself. If it’s not an investment opportunity, well, I’m just curious anyway. I can afford to indulge my curiosity.”
“You say the diamond was brought here by a German. Does that have any significance?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s possible that the diamond mine is in Germany. I understand that you know Germany.”
“Yes. I did a year there as a student and I did a tour there in the army. And I speak German.”
“So I’ve been told. This could take you back to Germany. We don’t know who this German is. He’s covered his tracks. Perhaps you can uncover them.”
“Jeremy tells me we know who has the diamond now.”
“Yes, a Greek by the name of Stavros Stakis, who lives in Switzerland. His wife wears it on occasion. It’s been seen on her. But that’s only recently. Stakis may have bought it from this German and kept it hidden for five years, but that’s unlikely. I want you to find out where he got the diamond. Trace it back to its source.” A pause and another gleam from his eyes.
“Who is this Stavros Stakis?”
“As I say, he’s a rich Greek. I’m not surprised that you haven’t heard of him. He keeps his name out of the papers.”
“How did he make his money?”
“Shipping and then property. He owns chunks of Abu Dhabi and New York and Montreal, and probably some other places. I’ve made some enquiries. He seems to be pretty unscrupulous. A civil servant with the Quebec Provincial Government went to jail for taking a bribe from him. He lives in a big house in the mountains near Villars. He plays his cards close to the chest.”
“So if I knocked on his door and said, ‘Please tell me about that diamond’?”
“He’d kick you down the nearest Alp. If it were that easy, I wouldn’t have called on FHS. No, it’s going to require a lot of ingenuity. Are you interested?”
I said I was interested. So Jeremy arranged terms with him. FHS would pay me a salary while I was on the job, to be arranged between Jeremy and me, plus expenses, with a bonus for FHS, and presumably for me, if I succeeded in finding out where the diamond came from.
I was worried. As we left the office I said to Jeremy, “Look, I agreed because you agreed, but I have no idea how to go about it.”
“Neither do I.”
“But you said we’d do it.”
“This is civilian life, old boy, and the government doesn’t send me a pay cheque every month.”
Jeremy gave me some expenses in advance, and had some FHS cards printed with my name on them. I wrote a letter in French to Madame Helena Stakis. I said I was a magazine writer working on an article about jewellery, and I would like to come and talk to her about some of her jewellery, which I had heard was unusual. I said we might want to photograph her wearing some of it. I reckoned this might appeal to her vanity.
After a few days I followed the letter up with a telephone call. The man who answered the telephone told me that Madame Stakis had received my letter and was not interested in talking to me about her jewellery or anything else.
I talked it over with Jeremy. “I think you should go over and see if you can find out something on the spot,” he said. “Time spent on reconnaissance—”
“—is rarely, if ever, wasted,” I said, completing the sentence from the British Army Infantry Manual, a little book which I have found useful in a surprising number of situations. I booked a flight to Geneva.
CHAPTER THREE
The cows had been toilet-trained, I decided, and the grass vacuum-cleaned, and the trees dusted, each leaf individually. That was the only way the mountainside could look this clean. As the train climbed up slowly from the blue-grey waters of Lake Geneva, I looked out on the scene. The slopes were bathed in late autumn sunshine, dotted with chalets that looked like cuckoo clocks. Contented-looking cows munched grass among sprigs of edelweiss. When the train
“You say the diamond was brought here by a German. Does that have any significance?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s possible that the diamond mine is in Germany. I understand that you know Germany.”
“Yes. I did a year there as a student and I did a tour there in the army. And I speak German.”
“So I’ve been told. This could take you back to Germany. We don’t know who this German is. He’s covered his tracks. Perhaps you can uncover them.”
“Jeremy tells me we know who has the diamond now.”
“Yes, a Greek by the name of Stavros Stakis, who lives in Switzerland. His wife wears it on occasion. It’s been seen on her. But that’s only recently. Stakis may have bought it from this German and kept it hidden for five years, but that’s unlikely. I want you to find out where he got the diamond. Trace it back to its source.” A pause and another gleam from his eyes.
“Who is this Stavros Stakis?”
“As I say, he’s a rich Greek. I’m not surprised that you haven’t heard of him. He keeps his name out of the papers.”
“How did he make his money?”
“Shipping and then property. He owns chunks of Abu Dhabi and New York and Montreal, and probably some other places. I’ve made some enquiries. He seems to be pretty unscrupulous. A civil servant with the Quebec Provincial Government went to jail for taking a bribe from him. He lives in a big house in the mountains near Villars. He plays his cards close to the chest.”
“So if I knocked on his door and said, ‘Please tell me about that diamond’?”
“He’d kick you down the nearest Alp. If it were that easy, I wouldn’t have called on FHS. No, it’s going to require a lot of ingenuity. Are you interested?”
I said I was interested. So Jeremy arranged terms with him. FHS would pay me a salary while I was on the job, to be arranged between Jeremy and me, plus expenses, with a bonus for FHS, and presumably for me, if I succeeded in finding out where the diamond came from.
I was worried. As we left the office I said to Jeremy, “Look, I agreed because you agreed, but I have no idea how to go about it.”
“Neither do I.”
“But you said we’d do it.”
“This is civilian life, old boy, and the government doesn’t send me a pay cheque every month.”
Jeremy gave me some expenses in advance, and had some FHS cards printed with my name on them. I wrote a letter in French to Madame Helena Stakis. I said I was a magazine writer working on an article about jewellery, and I would like to come and talk to her about some of her jewellery, which I had heard was unusual. I said we might want to photograph her wearing some of it. I reckoned this might appeal to her vanity.
After a few days I followed the letter up with a telephone call. The man who answered the telephone told me that Madame Stakis had received my letter and was not interested in talking to me about her jewellery or anything else.
I talked it over with Jeremy. “I think you should go over and see if you can find out something on the spot,” he said. “Time spent on reconnaissance—”
“—is rarely, if ever, wasted,” I said, completing the sentence from the British Army Infantry Manual, a little book which I have found useful in a surprising number of situations. I booked a flight to Geneva.
CHAPTER THREE
The cows had been toilet-trained, I decided, and the grass vacuum-cleaned, and the trees dusted, each leaf individually. That was the only way the mountainside could look this clean. As the train climbed up slowly from the blue-grey waters of Lake Geneva, I looked out on the scene. The slopes were bathed in late autumn sunshine, dotted with chalets that looked like cuckoo clocks. Contented-looking cows munched grass among sprigs of edelweiss. When the train
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