The Property of a Lady - Elizabeth Adler [86]
“Then she called me and said she had thought of a solution. She told me that Missie had kept a cardboard valise under her bed for years. She had always supposed it held her personal mementos, old photos, diaries, that sort of thing. But when Missie went to Fairlawns, she showed Anna these fabulous jewels supposedly worth millions and gave her the valise to look after. Of course she told her the story, and reminded her of the old warnings about the Ivanoffs, but Anna didn’t believe it. She said that it was many years since the revolution, that Russia was different now—you know, glasnost, perestroika—we thought it didn’t matter anymore. But we decided anyway to be careful. We put the diamond up for auction last year and it sold without any fuss. The emerald was so big we knew it had to be cut. Anna found out the name of a gem cutter and I delivered the stone to Bangkok. To a Mr. Gerome Abyss.”
Ahmet nodded and said, “I know the name. He was well respected in Paris for many years, did a lot of work for Cartier until he was discredited. You took a big risk, Leyla. He might have ruined the stone. How much did you pay him?”
“I promised him ten percent. We thought the stone would bring in maybe two million, no more than that. Anna sent Abyss twenty-five thousand to do the job. The rest was to be paid later, after the sale.” She smiled grimly. “Now Mr. Abyss is going to find himself a much richer man than he thought.”
“Didn’t you realize,” Ahmet said quietly, “that a flawless emerald of that size is extremely rare? That it would be bound to draw the attention of the world’s experts? Cartier must still have the original sketches and plans for cutting the stone and for the design of the tiara. Its every facet would have been noted. They would recognize it immediately as the Ivanoff emerald.”
“We just didn’t think anyone cared anymore.” Leyla sighed. “It didn’t seem that important. And anyway, why should anyone care about the Ivanoff emerald?”
Michael paced the room again nervously. “It’s not just the emerald,” he said, “it’s the billions of Ivanoff dollars in the banks.”
“Billions?” Leyla looked at him, stunned. “You mean the story is true? There really are billions of dollars? And they belong to Anna?”
“Of course it’s true,” Michael roared. “Your great-grandfather knew it. And so did Missie.” He groaned. “She never told Azaylee or Anna because she thought it was still dangerous. The KGB has a long memory, Leyla, they are like the elephant that never forgets.”
“There’s more to it than that,” Ahmet said in his precise tones. “My spy has excellent contacts. Not only did he trace the buyer, but he also found the reason why he was willing to pay any sum to get the jewel. And what he and Russia and America want.” They stared at him open-mouthed as he told them the story of the mines.
Finally he said, “Russia holds ownership documents known to be false and there is nothing America can do about it, unless they find the missing Ivanoff. In other words, Anna. If the Soviets find her, she will be spirited back to Russia. They will get the legally signed papers they need to lay their hands on the billions, and they will finally have the true Ivanoff signature on their title deeds to the mines.” He shrugged his shoulders grimly. “And of course she will never be heard of again.”
“Granddaughter,” Michael said, taking Leyla’s hands in his compassionately, “now you know why Anna is in such danger. We must try to find her, get her back to Istanbul. She will be safe here with us.”
“You and Anna made a grave mistake,” Ahmet said quietly. “Obviously Anna wanted to remain anonymous so you decided to deposit the money in the Kazahn account in Switzerland.”
“We were going to tell you afterward,” Leyla said quickly. “Anna thought it would be safer. She said it was a numbered account and no one would be able to trace it.”
“Anna used the number of the Kazahn account in which her money was originally deposited many years ago. But the numbered account