He looked at me and smiled. Where did you find them? I smiled, very slowly. Are there more? he asked. I nodded.
He moistened his lips. He returned the stones. Well, tell me this, if you will, what sort of deposit was it?
Then I thought faster than I had at any time since my arrival. It was something about the way he had asked it that put my mind to spinning. I had been thinking purely in terms of a diamond-smuggling operation, with him as the natural disposer of the contraband stones. Now, though, I reviewed what scanty knowledge I did possess on the subject. The largest mines in the world were those of South Africa, where diamonds were found embedded in that rock known as kimberlite, or blue ground. But how did they get there in the first place? Through volcanic action, as bits of carbon that had been trapped in streams of molten lava, subjected to intense heat and pressure that altered their structure to the hard, crystalline form of a girl's best friend. But there were also alluvial deposits, diamonds that had been cut free from their resting places by the actions of ancient streams, often borne great distances from their points of origin, and accumulated in offshore pockets. That was Africa, of course, and while I did not know much offhand as to New World deposits, much of the Caribbean island system had been built up by means of volcanic activity. The possibility of local deposits, of the volcanic-pipe variety or alluvial, was not precluded.
In view of my somewhat restricted area for activity since my arrival, I said, Alluvial. It wasn't a pipe, I'll tell you that.
He nodded.
Have you any idea as to the extent of your find? he inquired.
Not really, I said. There are more where these came from. But as to the full extent of their distribution, it is simply too early for me to tell.
Most interesting, he said. You know, it jibes with a notion I've long held concerning this part of the world. You wouldn't care to give me just a very rough, general sort of idea as to what part of the ocean these are from, would you?
Sorry, I said. You understand.
Of course, of course. Still, how far would you go from here for an afternoon's adventure?
I suppose that would depend on my own notions on this matter, as well as available air transportation, or hydrofoil.
He smiled.
All right I won't press you any further. But I'm curious. Now that you've got them, what are you going to do with them?
I took my time lighting a cigarette. Get as much as I can for them and keep my mouth shut, of course, I finally said. He nodded.
Where are you going to sell them? Stop passersby on the street?
I don't know, I said. I haven't thought that much about it yet. I suppose I could take them to some jeweler's.
He chuckled.
If you're very lucky. If you're lucky, you'll find one willing to take a chance. If you're very lucky, you'll find one willing to take a chance and also willing to give you a fair deal. I assume you would like to avoid the creation of a record, the crediting of extra income to your master account? Taxable income?
As I said, I would like to get as much as I can for them.
Naturally. Then am I correct in assuming that your purpose in coming to me over this might somehow be connected with this desire?
In a word, yes.
I see.
Well? .
I am thinking. To act as your agent for something like this would not be without risks of its own.
How much?
No, I'm sorry, he said then. It is probably too risky altogether. After all, it is illegal. I'm a married man. I could jeopardize my job by getting involved in something like this. If it had come along perhaps fifteen years ago ... well, who knows? I'm sorry. Your secret is safe. Don't worry about that. But I would just as soon not be party to the enterprise.
You are certain of that?
Positive. The return would have to be quite high for me even to consider it.
Twenty percent? I said.
Out of the question.
Maybe twenty-five ... I said.
No. Twice that would scarcely ...
Fifty percent? You're crazy!
Please! Keep your voice down! You want the whole station to hear?
Sorry. But that's out of the question. Fifty percent! No. If I can find a willing jeweler. I'll still be better off, even if he does cheat me. Twenty-five percent is tops. Absolutely.
I am afraid I can't see it.
Well, I wish you would think about it anyway.
He chuckled.
It will be difficult to forget, he said.
Okay ... Well, I'll be seeing you.
Tomorrow, at six.
Right. Good night.
Good night.
So I began walking back, reflecting on the possible permutations of people and events leading up to and culminating in the killings. But there were still too many gaps in the picture for me to come up with anything I really liked.
I was most troubled, of course, by the fact that there was someone who was aware that my presence actually represented more than its outward appearance. I searched my mind again and again for possible giveaways, but I did not see where I could have slipped up. I had been quite careful about my credentials. I had encountered no one with whom I had ever been familiar. I began wishing, not for the first time, nor, I was certain, the last, that I had not accepted this case.
I considered then what I ought to be about next, to push the investigation further along. I supposed I could inspect the place where the bodies had been found. I had not been there yet, mainly because I doubted there would be anything to be learned from it. Still ... I put that on my list for the morrow, if I could hit it before dinner with the Cashels. If not, then the next day.
I wondered whether I had done the expected thing as to the stones. I felt that I had, and I was very curious as to the repercussions, almost, but not quite, as curious as I was concerning the motives of my informant. Nothing I could do at the moment, though, but wait.
Thinking these thoughts, I heard myself hailed by Andy Deems from where he stood near his cottage, smoking his pipe. He wondered whether I was interested in a game of chess. I wasn't, really, but I went over anyhow. I lost two and managed to stalemate him on the third one. I felt very uncomfortable around him, but at least I didn't have to say much.
The following day. Deems and Carter were sent over to Station Six, while Paul and I took our turn at miscellaneous duties as assigned in and about the equipment shed. Another time-marking episode, I had decided, till I got to my real work once more.
And so it went, until late afternoon, when I was beginning to wonder what sort of cook Linda Cashel might be. Barthelme hurried into the shed.
Get your gear together, he said. We have to go out.
What's the matter? Paul asked him.
Something is wrong with one of the sonic generators.
What?
He shook his head.
No way of telling till we've brought it back and checked it over. All I know is that a light's gone out on the board. I want to pull the whole package and put in a new unit. No attempt at underwater repair work on this one, even if it looks simple. I want to go over it very carefully in the lab.
Where is it situated?
To the southwest, at about twenty-eight fathoms. Go look at the board if you want. It will give you a better picture ... But don't take too long, all right? There are a lot of things to load.
Right. Which vessel?
The Mary Ann.
The new deepwater rules ... ?
Yes. Load everything. I'm going down to tell Davies now. Then I'm going to change clothes. I'll be back shortly.''
See you then.
Yes.
He moved away and we set to work, getting our own gear, the shark cage, and the submersible decompression chamber ready to go. We made two trips to the Mary Ann, then took a break to go see the map, learned nothing new from it, and returned for the DC, which was stored on a cart.