She repeated every wordof the Federal Government oath with only the slightest hint of anaccent.
The woman to thejudge’s left stood and presented Anya with a black leathercredential pack with the seal of the Treasury Department embossed onthe outside. She opened the leather wallet to reveal a gold shieldbearing the words “Department of the Treasury Special Agent” withthe badge number stamped into the bottom. Adjacent the badge sat anofficial identification card with her photograph exactly where itshould be.
The judge said, “Idon’t know kind of leash you are on, Ms. Fulton, but it just gottighter and a lot shorter. Whoever and whatever you are, that shieldchanges everything. Just ask Special Agent Davis, here.”
Anya pocketed thecredentials. “Thank you, sir.”
“It’s your honor,”the judge said.
Anya turned back. “I’msorry, what?”
“Ms. Fulton, you areto address me as your honor, not as sir.”
She drew her cred-packfrom her hip pocket and flipped it open in front of the judge. “Andyou will address me as Special Agent, not Miss.”
Back at the apartment,Gwynn confiscated Anya’s badge. “I’m putting this in my safe.If Volkov catches you with it, the whole world will come crashingdown around you.”
“Agent White waswrong. Apparently, he can get this done overnight.”
“Yeah, he may havebeen wrong about that, but I was right when I told you that youshouldn’t push him again anytime soon. By the way, what happened toyour accent in there this morning?”
Anya shrugged. “WhenI concentrate on every word, I can hide accent sometimes. I think itwas good to do so in front of his honor, the judge.”
“You really are anactress, aren’t you?”
* * *
Anya’s car arrivedexactly on time, but instead of heading for Volkov’s office, thedriver stopped at the corner of Forty-Seventh Street and SixthAvenue.
“What are we doinghere?”
Instead of turningaround, the driver looked up into the rearview mirror, making eyecontact with her. “Mr. Volkov said drop you here and pick you upagain right here in a couple of hours.”
“What am I supposedto do?” she asked.
“How should I know?I’m just a driver. There’s an envelope back there. Maybe youshould open it.”
Anya tore open the plain whiteenvelope to reveal a single square of paper. She read the short note:
Find, examine, and memorize four stones from four differentdealers. 2.5 +/- .05 carat, round cut, D-E color, F-IF clarity.
She stepped from thecar and leaned down to the driver’s window.
He cracked the windowan inch.
“I would likecigarette. You have one, yes?”
“Yeah, sure,” hesaid as he rolled the window fully down and held up the pack.
She shook one from thepack and slid it between her lips. “You have also lighter, yes?”
“Geez, lady. You wantme to smoke it for you, too?”
She took the lighter,lit the cigarette, and without letting the flame go out, she touchedthe corner of the note. The thin paper caught quickly, and she let itfall to the pavement. The driver motioned for his lighter. She slidit into his hand, pulled the cigarette from her lips, and crushed itout deep inside his left ear. The man howled like a dying animal, soAnya shoved his own hand into his mouth. “Stop yelling, and be niceto me. I am Viktor Volkov’s angel.”
He shoved her away fromthe car. “Yeah, maybe this week, bitch, but you’ll be gone in notime, just like the others.”
Careful to avoid Levi’sshop, Anya strolled down Forty-Seventh Street, ignoring the hawkersas she went. Still fascinated by the Jewish men in their hats anddangling curls, she watched as they scampered about the street,ducking in and out of shops as they went about their day, seeminglyoblivious to everyone else on the street.
The first shop sheentered was crowded with shoppers, mostly young couples in the marketfor an engagement ring but unwilling or unable to pay shopping mallprices back in Arkansas or a thousand other places that weren’t NewYork City’s Diamond District.
The diamonds she wantedto see would be in quite a different atmosphere. She found thatatmosphere three doors down. There were no Midwestern lovebirdsmilling about, only serious players in the high-end diamond game . .. “How you doing?” . . . “What can I show you?”
Anya smiled and steppedtoward the forty-something, balding man who believed the three-days’growth on his chin made him irresistible.
“Hello, I am Tatiana.And you are?”
“I’m Armond. Niceto meet you, Tatiana. What’s on your mind today?”
“I like big diamonds,and my husband, who is never home, likes to buy for me things I likeso I will not leave him for younger man like you. Do you haveanything big enough to make me smile, Armond?”
“Just how big are wetalking, Tatiana? Three carats, maybe?”
She stared through theglass of the cases holding millions of dollars in beautiful diamonds.“I think maybe this is too big. Maybe two and a half carats isbetter, and I like round diamonds.”
Armond unfolded afelt-covered pad and pulled a tray of stones from the glass case. Heselected a stone, clamped it into his tweezers, and pressed the loupeto his cheek. “This one is beautiful. It’s two-point-five fivecarats, D, IF. Here, have a look.”
Anya took the loupe andtweezers and examined the stone from every angle, committing everyfacet to memory. “It is breathtaking, Armond, but I think pricewould also take away my breath, no?”
The man looked aroundas if being overheard would be a mortal sin. “It’s marked at justunder seventy-five, but if you love it, I think I can get if for youfor . . .” He paused and rattled the buttons of an old calculator,then he spun the machine toward her, revealing the price of sixty-sixthousand eight hundred dollars. “What do you think?”
“I think I shouldmake sure I am getting best deal. My husband works hard for hismoney. If I spend it frivolously, he will maybe not let me keepspending so much.”
“Hold on for just aminute,” Armond said. “Let me see what I can do. I’ll be rightback.” He took the stone, replaced it in the tray, and returned thetray inside the case.
When
