Page 9 of The Cabinet of Dr. Leng

It had been several weeks since he’d offered this much money for a stone, and he waited for the gratifying display of delight from his client. He was quickly disappointed.

“Sir,” the woman replied, “if you are implying that the stone is essentially byewater, I would with all respect have to disagree. Its diaphaneity is obvious, and I would ask you to please take another look, particularly in regard to how the proportion and cut of the stone enhances the reflection and refraction of light.”

Kunz raised the emerald again, not so much to examine it as to hide any sign of embarrassment. This duchess knew something about gemstones—at least, the one he was now examining. Diaphaneity: while the use of this term was more common to mineralogists than gemologists, it was apt, as was the rest of what she had said. And her inference that grading a gem by first, second, or third “water” was obsolete hit him in a most tender spot.

“Of course,” the woman said, intruding on his thoughts, “you are the expert, not I. And in the end, experts will be the judges. It was, and is, my hope that I could conduct all my business here with you, rather than risking the time and exposure required to visit those who do business on Maiden Lane.”

This reference to what was then known as Diamond Row was a threat, although a politely worded one. Kunz, too, would rather transact this lady’s business—and he was increasingly curious to see what else might be in her handbag.

She had not held out her hand to request the stone be returned.

“You are quite right,” he said, returning the emerald to the felt. “I believe on closer inspection that we might be able to raise our offer to $4,500.”

“It was my grandmother’s favorite stone. I would be willing to part with it for no less than six thousand.”

“We, ah, will have to think about that,” Kunz said after a moment. It all depended on what was in the rest of that handbag. He replaced the emerald in its satin pouch and put it aside. “May we see the next gemstone, milady?”

The woman handed a second pouch to Kunz. He opened it and eased the stone out—and found himself staring at an amazing specimen of red diamond—the rarest color on earth. Because truly “fancy” diamonds—diamonds with color—were so uncommon, intensity was more important than clarity. This specimen had been cut in an unusual triangular brilliant type that he’d never seen before, but that had the effect of bringing forward the red hue perfectly.

“That is the Napnyugta,” the woman told him. “The Sunset Diamond. It was presented to my grandfather by the king for his personal valor in the opening days of the Hungarian Revolution.”

Kunz barely heard. He was still staring at the diamond. He had seen very few red diamonds in his career, and certainly none this large—he estimated it at 25 carats, or perhaps even more.

Once again, he raised the loupe to his eye and peered into its depths. Internally flawless, with just the slightest bit of feathering. There was no red diamond in the world as large or as perfect as this. It took a moment for him to find his voice.

“A most beautiful diamond, milady,” he said.

“Thank you.”

What was it worth? The lady was waiting. This was a stone that he simply could not let get away.

“I would be content, sir, with $100,000,” the duchess said.

Kunz swallowed. He had never paid so much for a stone. “Would you consider seventy five?”

“No, thank you, I would not.”

Kunz put the stone back in its pouch and handed it to Gruber. “We will take it at your price, milady.”

A new satin bag was opened. And out came the next stone: a deep violet cabochon sapphire that sported twinned stars—asterisms—forming a total of twelve points instead of the usual six. Even at a glance, Kunz could tell it was the equal of the Midnight Star at the American Museum.

“It is from Mogok, Burma,” said the duchess, as he examined it with the loupe.

Kunz decided he’d better state his price before she did. “We can offer $40,000 for this stone, milady.”

“Fifty thousand—with the emerald.”

“Absolutely.”

They went back into their pouches and were turned over to Gruber.

Kunz turned to her for the next stone, but found she was simply looking back at him, hands atop her bag. “These next—and last—two stones are of particular value. I mean as…world treasures.” She seemed to be struggling with some kind of emotional difficulty.

“I understand, Your Grace.” World treasures? He found his heart accelerating.

“They are inseparable from my family history, and thus of infinite value to me. If your firm does not have the resources to purchase them, I…” She paused to collect herself. “I will understand. I am not sure I have the heart to part with them.”

And with this, she reached into her handbag, withdrew another silk pouch, and offered it to Kunz.

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