“What are you thinking?” Pedro Funari had watched his colleague for the past ten minutes, turning the shard of stone this way and that without comment. Pedro was eager to know its potential value. Leo looked up, at the same moment laying the stone carefully onto a piece of soft velvet on the table before him, and easing the magnifying glass away from his eye to rest it alongside the stone.

“I’ve seen better but after refining I think we may have something here.”

“It was the best of the haul, but there is plenty more. Are you sure we can we do something with it?”

Leo nodded and Pedro was greatly relieved by that action. It was all he had needed really confirmation that the find would make them wealthy in the fullest sense of the word. There was enough in this find to keep some and sell some.

“I think we will be certain of producing American Blue with these stones, possibly even Sky Blue.” Leo told his colleague looking straight at him. Pedro caught the significance of that unwavering stare, and frowned.

“We don’t have that kind of treatment available here. Are you certain that the cost of the process will be worth it?”

“More than worth it. As I say I have seen better, but these stones are still good enough to bring forth the blue that is so sought after by the rest of the world but we won’t be able to do that here. Fortunately we have come a long way from the time when P.H. Plough first subjected colourless topaz to radiation treatment in 1957.”

Pedro agreed, adding, “The market has been flooded in the last decade by more than a million carats of blue topaz. Most people believe that the production of this has been due to radiation treatment. Surely we can do that here. What does it matter, providing we create the type of blue that people desire?”

“Because my dear fellow, times have changed. We know that better ways exist now, and because this may be our last chance to produce top quality gemstones such that we will never need to work again. It would be better would it not to take our find to a refinery that could turn these stones into something spectacular. Besides I have been hungry for some time to be allowed to follow such a process and know that the end result would be perfection. Surely you have too?” Pedro nodded, “Yes to be truthful yes. I am just worried about the cost involved.”

“There will be no cost. We simply pay in gemstones and then split the remainder two ways.”

“Three.”

“Why three? Pepe is dead. Besides no one knew of his partnership in this but his wife and that little brat of his and they are dead too.”

“Their eldest daughter Sophia isn’t. Neither are the little ones, they escaped remember?” Pedro felt a cold chill run up his spine for some reason unknown.

“And they are in hiding. Whether Sophia knows their whereabouts or not remains to be seen. I have had her followed since she arrived from Para and she does not appear to have found them, and they are hardly likely to turn up knowing the danger that they are in. Besides who is going to believe children? For all anyone knows that American could have killed their parents.”

“Except that they saw you do it.” Pedro shuddered, and besides he missed Pepe.

“It’s not our problem Pedro. Look all we need do is take these stones to the refinery that has bombardment facilities pay the bill split the remainder between you and I and go live our lives to the full. Sod anyone else.”

“You said it again. You keep saying we will split it two ways. What of Stuart?”

Leo stared at Pedro as if the man had taken leave of his senses, “What has Stuart got to do with this? He knows nothing about gems! He is nothing to us. Do we employ him? Have we ever employed him?”

Put like that Pedro knew it was true. Stuart had just turned up one day. Made himself known and literally tagged along. True he had proved invaluable when they needed to get shot of Burch and so too when that Chandler woman had been hell bent on coming out to Brazil to see for herself that Burch had died. But apart from that he was a nobody, and came and went so elusively that he had rarely been present at any of their plans. He wasn’t even family and what was more he couldn’t even boast brother hood. He was American not Brazilian.

Pedro nodded, “all right you win. I can’t imagine Stuart agreeing but no doubt you will think of a way to cut him from our gain. So when do you want to take the first batch to the refinery?”

“Just as soon as I decide the best place to take them. You just keep the men working at bringing in the find, and I’ll do the rest. Meet me back here the day after tomorrow, I should have something to tell you then.”

They parted company with their customary shake of hands, and the last thing Pedro saw before he exited the room was Leo replacing his eyeglass and picking up the shard of stone once again with a big smile on his face.

“How long is a piece of string?”

Leo frowned holding the receiver away from his ear, tempted for the moment to shout obscenities into the receptacle. Instead he drew a deep breath letting it out slowly to calm himself and went on, “I realise you cannot possibly say. So much depends on it. Each stone is a separate commodity in itself, but you must have some general idea.”

“No. It just isn’t possible. Advancement we may have made since the mid-fifties but one cannot rush perfection. However if you are asking me what I think you are asking me, then I can put a prospective value on the find and pay a percentage accordingly. The rest you can collect in stones or hard cash when the refining is completed but of course we have to agree that to do this, the best is reserved for us and not for you. Like taking the pick of the litter so to speak.”

Leo nodded, and then realising that he could not be seen doing so, he affirmed into the receiver, “yes I understand, and no we do not want an advancement. I just wondered that’s all. There is no rush, we do not need the money so quickly. Besides I don’t know yet that I wish to sell any of the stones. I have waited a long time for glory to settle upon me, and these stones are to be my crowning glory.”

“Would you like to watch the process of some of the stones? It might take some time, you couldn’t possibly be here for the duration but you might like to witness the metamorphosis taking place.”

“I’d like that. Especially to see how you produce the colourless to the dark blue and on to the American Blue. That would appeal to me most.”

“It’s quite a simple process actually.”

“Once you know how?”

“Yes.” There was laughter down the line, “Once you know how. Same with everything really. Riding a Zebu is easy once you know how.” They laughed together at this.

“I expect you well know the process for irradiation of topaz Mr de Azevedo…”

“Leo please.”

“Leo. Thank you. And please call me Claude. As I was saying you obviously know the process for irradiation yet I have to make you aware of everything involved before you bring the stones to us. This is a safeguard as I am sure you are aware. So many people have small finds and expect us to bring forth from that something worth millions and are disappointed by what they perceive to be perfection that we more often than not find ourselves facing lawsuits. You must be made aware and sign a contract to the contrary that the stones will be processed and enhanced by the refinery, but we do not produce miracles.”

“I understand. Please go on. Do you have the time?” Leo added as an after thought. He wasn’t quite sure if all this were to be told over the telephone or if he would have to make an appointment to hear it.

Unbeknown to Leo Claude checked his watch. He also flicked open his diary. Leo waited while Claude appeared to be thinking, finally hearing him answer, “I do have time now if you are certain that you will be bringing the find to us. I’m afraid my diary is quite full for the next couple of months, so if you’ve time, I’ll make it as brief as possible since you know some of what goes on.”

“Thank you. Please continue.” Leo settled himself further into his seat and positioned his legs upon the seat that Pedro usually favoured. He blatantly ignored the seat that Pepe once used. That sometimes provided relaxation for Stuart, but recently had been unoccupied and pushed into one corner of the moderately furnished room.

“I always start by reminding people of the nuclear bombardment on various glasses. You know how it is, or maybe your wife does. Put clear Pyrex into the oven often enough and it will soon discolour to amber. Other kinds of glass can become murky thus losing its transparency. This is always due to particle bombardment and is never predictable. Left untreated these colours will disappear especially when left beneath intense light. Often darkening in fact. Due to which different types of glasses have since been produced that resist such changing of colour when exposed to forms of radiation or heat. Topaz on the other hand can occur naturally in a wide range of colours but usually it is colourless and this is where we come in. You are probably aware that the first reported production of colourless topaz to blue was attempted by Pough in the mid-nineteen fifties and around twenty years later rediscovered by Nassau and Prescott. A lot of people blamed their process for the arrival of an increased quantity of blue topaz made available around that time. And you well know I am sure that one of the principle qualities that determines the value of commercial topaz is its colour.
Several types of irradiation can be used to alter the stones colour. X and gamma rays, high-energy charged particles and neutrons. Naturally occurring blue topaz is usually very pale in colour and their market value for that reason is limited. Even so only a small percentage of topaz that has been irradiated by electrons will be turned into the intense blue that is marketable. I expect this is what you have found in the processing that you have used?”

“Yes. While we aimed to achieve the standard that the world desired, it always seemed that we couldn’t get it just right. The colours were either wishy-washy blue or had streaks of other colours running through any that we declared to be a perfect reflection of the blue we had hoped for. Many times we had our hopes deflated when we found that we had turned a beautiful colourless stone into something that greatly resembled the bottomless eyes of a shark with cataracts. And who wants to be reminded of that?”

Claude laughed, he must remember that description it was good, and he understood Leo perfectly, “I know what you mean. Those of inky appearance depending on how one looked at the stone a result of different colours appearing along the lines of different axis. Still sellable mind you, but nowhere near in the league of the top quality blue.
Of course it can’t all be blamed on the interference of man. It often depends upon the nature of any given stone. Exposing pale coloured topaz to gamma rays can result in a reddish brown in some stones.
However if these particular stones are again re heated a blue can be brought forth. Generally all colourless or pale topaz will turn blue if given sufficient exposure to high-level energy neutrons. And depending on the use of gamma or electrons we can determine darker or more intense shades of blue.
Our business here is to produce some of the finest blues imaginable. By irradiating at a range of one thousand to ten thousand megarads we can produce the American Blue and the Super Sky Blue. Occasionally some stones may require additional heating of one to six hours of electron bombardment to enhance that quality but this is not always necessary.”

Leo pricked up his ears at the mention of Super Sky Blue. This he deemed to have the edge over American Blue in his opinion.

“So, you see we do have the facilities here to bring forth a butterfly from the chrysalis that you now behold. All that remains for you to do now is to bring the collection along and allow us to show you what we can achieve.”

“Will I need an appointment?”

“Yes that is absolutely necessary, and for your own peace of mind you should either accompany the stones or have them delivered by armoured vehicle. We can arrange for their collection. What will it be?”

“I’ll bring them myself.”

Claude laughed, “I expected as much. So when can you bring them to us?”

“Well they aren’t all mined yet, shall I wait until we have the lot, or bring them over bit by bit?”

“Whatever is best for you Leo. As you heard me mention my dairy is pretty packed for the next couple of months. I should like to meet with you, but we will only have time for a firm handshake I am afraid, but I have several loyal colleagues who will be only too willing to look after you. Perhaps you would like to consult your own diary and get back to me.”

Leo detected that Claude was hastily trying to end the conversation. He noted the clock on one wall, it was way past lunchtime. It’s a wonder his own stomach hadn’t made him aware off that fact by now. Still he had been engrossed in the telephone call. “I’ll get back to you. My diary is modestly filled but I do have a colleague who will wish to accompany me to the refinery. I’ll call later today if I may?”

“That will be wonderful. Just make an appointment with my secretary. She will take care of you. And thank you Leo. I am sure that you will not be disappointed in us.”

The conversation wound down, they said their farewells, and Leo was soon left in a quiet room once again, his feet still propped upon one chair. But in his hands he held the shard of stone, turning it over and over in one hand and staring at the various facets catching what little light filtered through the blinds. “You my beauty are my gateway to heaven.” He told the stone, smiling happily as he allowed the tapestry of his future to unfold before him. He was not to know that those words were to prove to be a lot nearer to the truth than he now imagined them.

He hugged her tightly for a split second forgetting everything that had happened until she cried “Sunshine! Oh Devin - now I know why Vincent treasures it so much.”

At the mention of his brother’s name, Devin wrenched his arms away from Catherine and began striding forward to leave her behind.

“Devin wait! Please wait.” Catherine ran and caught hold of his arm. He stopped despite his repulsion of feeling her touch him and shrugging his arm free decided to allow her to speak.

“Tell me.” He answered unable to help adding, “Though don’t bank on my believing you.”

Catherine sighed. There were so many things she wanted to say, yet didn’t think he’d give her that much of a chance so she tackled the problem head on. “Devin you know how much I love Vincent.”

He turned to her then, his eyes, pitiful, hurt angry. “I thought I did.” He made to move away from her.

“Please Devin. I would never do anything to hurt Vincent. Please you have to believe me, what happened back there happened without my consent. Elliot raped me.” Those final words were caught on a sob wrenched from her, yet Catherine stood her ground, willing Devin to believe her. He had to, he just had to.
And maybe he might have if at that precise moment another voice had not interrupted his thoughts and sent him striding away from her again.

“My God, Cathy darling! Sunshine!” Elliot had emerged from his prison.

From his journey between his and Father’s chamber, Vincent heard the shout and started running, meeting the patriarch of the tunnels as he entered his chamber. “Vincent there you are. Come see today’s newspaper. Elliot Burch is alive!”

Despite the older man’s excitement Vincent’s rising elation fell. For a moment, and he didn’t know why it should, but for a moment he had thought Father’s excitement had flared after seeing an article about Catherine. Knowing that this wasn’t so brought no response from Vincent whatsoever, so deep was his sorrow.

Father looked at him keenly, “Oh I know you knew he was alive Vincent, but to see it here in black and white, and to have the world know of it, well that surely is something else, isn’t it?”

A grimace of a smile formed on Vincent’s mouth, “It does not tell me anything I already know Father. The work Elliot Burch does is well acclaimed, but the man is the least of my concerns. I just hoped that somehow there would be news of Catherine.”

“Oh but there is.” Father pulled the newspaper toward him, folding it to the column he needed. “I haven’t read it all, but I saw bits, and I know her name was mentioned. Look here… Oh and Devin too! Vincent they are all spoken of. Come let us read it together.”

After reading the entire story three times, Vincent sat down from where he had been standing alongside Father, the older man sitting, the newspaper spread out upon the table in front of the two of them. “Catherine is alive!” He repeated over and over.
His kindly eyes watching every nuance of his son’s ever changing features Father spoke softly, “But then you knew that.”

“Yes I knew that Father… The Bond…” His hands splayed on either side of him emphasised that feature of his and Catherine’s relationship, “But to see it here in writing. Father I am so relieved.”

“She will be coming home now.” It was a statement not a question. “And Devin too.”

“Yes, though maybe not Devin. Knowing my brother as far as he is concerned there is still much to see, and he has yet to visit Rio.”

For the first time in a long time Father heard Vincent laugh. They both knew Devin so well, and after all he had been given a free ticket to visit Brazil in the first place. Devin would surely make the most of that.

After satisfying his thirst and hunger Devin too had sought out his hotel. All his belongings as had Catherine’s had been placed in security where they would have stayed for three months, before being discarded at the local church.
His next port of call was the bathroom. Looking at himself for a long time in the mirror, Devin had analysed his eyes, his face, new beard and hair. He had never looked such a sight. He’d lost, the scales told him, thirty-one pounds and his bathrobe hung off him. He grimaced, maybe losing the flab wasn’t quite so bad, but he was dismayed to find that even though the last few days had been strenuous his muscles had sagged too and they would surely need building up.
His first bath after so long was sheer bliss. Stepping into the foamy water shivers ran from his feet to his neck and it took no time to immerse himself into the hot water amid many sighs of satisfaction.
It was, the longest soak he had ever undertaken, and there had been some. His past reminded him of other occasions when a bath had come at the end of a long trek, weeks on the trot of climbing dusty terrain, ragged mountain ranges and icy conditions. All of which had placed that long foamy soak in the forefront of his mind as something to look forward to getting home for. The only difference was his real home, for there though the jets of water coming naturally through channelled rock were never quite as warm as he would have liked. Vincent insisted that there was nowhere better on earth after a long hard day’s work in the lower levels chiselling out new chambers for their ever- growing community but knowing there was something better Devin would dispute that.

“You my brother have never lived.” Devin now spoke aloud, his eyes dancing as he pictured the groans and moans that would come from his brother should he ever step into a bath of this dimension. At the mention of his brother’s name Devin frowned, reminded once again that hot foamy baths would be the last thing his brother would want once he knew what he had to tell him. Again Devin wondered about that and only now he allowed himself the time to assimilate everything in a bid to work it out.
First of all was Catherine’s headlong flight to Brazil when she had first learned of his accident. Her belief that Elliot hadn’t died in that plane crash and her disclosure that she and Elliot had spoken earlier that morning prior to her marriage to Vincent. That fact seemed to have been overlooked by everyone. Had they spoken of other things apart from Elliot being unable to make the wedding? What if they had arranged everything, what if Catherine unable to stop the wedding had been persuaded by Elliot to go to him even this late in the day? Had Elliot blackmailed her? Did he have some hold over her that had made her rush headlong to his aid?
Devin dismissed most of these ideas as they fell to mind. Of course Catherine had become her own defence when she had returned at the last, deciding instead to spend the night with Vincent no matter how it may look. That at least was in her favour.

There had been nothing else, nothing that he could remember anyway that told him afterward that she and Elliot were anything more than victims of the same crime, just as he had been. Except there were those times on Elliot’s part where he had seen the fellow looking at her with intense longing and eyes of love. He had dismissed those looks, concluding it was as Vincent had told him, that Elliot would always love Catherine, and so he decided, albeit reluctantly, that if Vincent could ignore it then so could he.
Then the time had arrived when Catherine had been thrown into the ‘tomb’ and how the pair reacted at the sight of one another. Catherine true, had untangled herself from Elliot’s embrace, but that could have been for his benefit if truth were known. There were other instances too much of which had been instigated by Elliot. Those looks, those touches, but if he were honest with himself none had given him any sign that Catherine had enjoyed or wanted them.
Everything from start to finish, could have been a whole lot of misguided coincidences, or a whole bunch of suspicious coincidences that had hung and quartered her before she’d had time to comment.
Devin’s reason for his suspicions suddenly rocketed through him with horror! Both he and Father and Peter they had all been of like mind and thus must all bear the blame. For Devin suddenly knew that they had all behaved thus, because not one of them could understand why someone as beautiful as Catherine could want to marry someone like Vincent over someone like Elliot. And that stemmed to only one thing, that they were seeing Vincent as through the eyes of people that did not know him, did not love him, did not see him beautiful in quite the same unconditional way that Catherine had. They had framed her, made her out to be something she was not, when in fact she was better than they were. Suddenly Catherine’s love for Vincent sang through Devin’s heart as he accepted that she would never want Elliot over Vincent. But that did not answer the question as to why he should find the pair of them wrapped in one another’s arms, and Catherine’s arms and legs holding Elliot closer than a heartbeat. That was the one thing that went over and over in Devin’s mind, and despite what had or what had not gone on before, Catherine’s was guilty of everything for that act alone. And he simply could not, would not forgive her for that.

For several seconds Elliot gazed down at the gloved hand before taking it up in his own, “Are you a reporter? I’ve said all there is to say.”

“No. I am not a reporter, and I have to admit that my affairs are not actually with you, but with the other American, but since I cannot find where he is staying I wondered if you would be able to help me?”

“You mean Devin Wells?”

“Is that his name?”

“You’ve surely read the newspaper or you wouldn’t be here.”

Elliot released her hand and she let it fall back to her side. It had been Sophia’s greatest embarrassment all through her life to have to explain that she was illiterate, but here before this good-looking man Sophia hid that fact with a blatant lie. “I haven’t been able to spare the time for reading.” It was as good a lie as any and true in a round about way.

“Then how do you know about Devin Wells?”

“The newspapers are not the only mode of communication Mr Burch, besides the fact that this town is buzzing with your experience I also learned of this man through another source. I desperately need to find him. Please can you help me?”

Something in the woman’s tone suddenly unnerved Elliot, he stepped aside and with a sweep of one arm beckoned her with the words; “Won’t you come in?”

The woman needed no second bidding, but Elliot was surprised to find tears had run unchecked down her cheeks from the moment she had entered his room to the moment he had closed the door and had turned to face her.

“What’s wrong? Here let me fetch you a tissue.” He crossed to the far side of the room, and snatched a handful of tissues from a box, returning to thrust them into her hand as he reached her again. “Please sit. Can I get you a drink? Tea, Coffee? Something stronger?” His teasing was rewarded by a watery smile, and drying her eyes something lurched in Elliot’s chest as she turned her full attention toward him and smiled.

“If you have spring water that would be greatly appreciated.”

Elliot was about to protest when he remembered just how good water was and readily found a glass and filled it from the dispenser before returning to hear whatever it was she had come to say.
Sipping at the water, the woman watched him somewhat warily for a moment. Now that the chance was upon her, she doubted the rationale with which she had arrived at her contemplation over the last few weeks. What if she couldn’t trust this man?
Almost the moment she thought it he mentioned it, “Please you can trust me. I know there has been a great deal of wickedness going on around here, but know this that neither I or my friends have had anything to do with this. We have all been innocent victims of the most bizarre experience we have ever been forced to undertake. Please whatever it is know you can trust me.”
> At the mention of innocent victims, Sophia’s face crumpled and the tears fell swiftly again.

“I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes. “Whatever must you think of me?”

“Its all right, its all right. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

At those last words Sophia glanced up, her eyes swollen from crying, and for the first time Elliot began to see the pain held in those eyes. Whatever her tears were for they disguised some deep grief for every time they welled in her eyes they obscured the usual beauty he felt once resided there.

“Tell me.” Elliot pulled up a chair and taking up her free hand in his, his blue eyes begged her to unravel her tale of woe. When she had finished, Elliot could not move. As she had spoken he had seen Devin as he had first arrived thrown into the mineshaft bitter and angry at having endured cold bloodied murders right before him. Quickly Elliot made the connection and could understand why this woman needed to speak with Devin.

“What of the children?” He asked remembering bits of the story that Devin had related.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Sophia sobbed harder now forcing Elliot to leave his chair and come to enfold her in his arms. “No one has seen them, yet there have been no bodies, unless, unless…” she couldn’t continue that line of thought. It was too unbearable to think that they had been kidnapped and left to die also.

“I don’t think Devin can tell you much more Sophia. From what you say and what I know, it had been the first time he had seen the children, save for your younger brother. I don’t think he was even aware that you existed.”

“I’m adopted.” Sophia told him as if that answered everything. “I didn’t live with the family. I work in Rio and have a home in Para.” Her eyes refused to meet his, and Elliot detected that whatever it was that she did for a living, she wasn’t proud of it. “But the children need me now, and I need them. My parents were good to me, gave me everything, I miss them so much.” Her tears fell again, seemingly faster than before. Elliot had an idea.

“Look, I know a bit of how you feel. My father was murdered too, and in light of what we have all recently experienced here, I’d say the best immediate remedy would be to get yourself back on to your feet. I think I know where Devin may be, so if you would stay here, have room service bring you up anything that you need, take a long relaxing bath and have a sleep you will feel much more capable of taking this on. Believe me those things may seem immaterial in the face of all the other things that are happening around you, but without them you will come crashing down. Give yourself a rest and I can promise that you will feel so much more ready to tackle whatever comes.”

Sophia nodded, not trusting herself to speak in light of his kindness, she did agree with everything he said, even so far as feeling guilty for the need of those things when her parents and brother had just been murdered. It seemed to her that she hadn’t eaten or slept since she had heard the news two weeks ago.

“And you’ll find him?”

“I’ll find him. I promise. Just you relax, and try not to worry I won’t tell anyone about this.”

Sophia nodded gratefully. It had been hard coming here, not knowing whether she was doing right or wrong, not knowing who was friend or foe. All she knew was she had to find that American that the neighbours had seen speaking with her father and brother on more than one occasion. She hadn’t known until speaking with Elliot that Devin Wells had seen her parents and brother die, and now that she knew she wanted to see him all the more. She thanked Elliot profusely and watched him leave with hope in her eyes for the first time in weeks.

(*Spirit of the Dove - sequel to Blue Topaz).

“I’m surprised you can show your face!” Devin flared at Elliot through gritted teeth.

“Believe me nothing would have brought me here had it anything to do with me.” Elliot responded in like manner.

“Then what do you want? Catherine isn’t here.” Devin’s body barred the door.

“I can’t speak here, I have to come in.” Elliot spoke lowly. Walls, wherever one went had ears, he had learned that to his detriment years ago.

“Get lost.” Devin tried to budge him out of the way but Elliot stood his ground. However as Devin leaned close Elliot was afforded with the opportunity to whisper “Its about the friends you saw murdered.”

His words had the desired effect, but even so Elliot wasn’t quite ready for Devin dragging him inside the room, and slamming the door shut behind him.

“Spill.” Was all Devin said as they stood facing one another each breathing heavily.

Elliot related his visit from Sophia.
For some time after Devin remained motionless. Elliot guessed the experience of that day was playing over again in Devin’s mind. He doubted he would ever be able to put it behind him. In that if nothing else they had a common experience. Elliot would never forget the night his father had died when a bomb had gone off in the helicopter he was being taken to safety in. That the bomb was meant for Elliot himself only served to make him bitter about the whole thing.

“So she’s still at your hotel?”

Elliot jumped when Devin spoke replying only when he regained his composure, “Yes. You can go to her there or I can bring her to you here.”

Devin sighed, “If its all the same to you, I’d like to keep my whereabouts a secret until I know who to trust around here. As to that how did you find me?” His question was deliberate and obvious. Elliot shrugged. “It wasn’t easy. There are many hotels and I had expected you to be staying in Ouro Preto. Coming here to Belo Horizonte was almost a last straw. Funnily enough I encountered Catherine’s whereabouts before I found you.”

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Any fool could have detected the disgust in Devin’s voice, but Elliot it seemed found it surprising.

“Regardless of what you might assume, Catherine did not tell me where she would be staying. I had in fact found it most surprising to find her still in the country, but perhaps she like me couldn’t get a flight out of here until the day after tomorrow. Maybe we will be on the same flight home.”

“And that will please you greatly no doubt?” Devin quirked an eyebrow despite himself.

“It will please me yes. Catherine I fear will not be quite so happy.” The sadness in Elliot’s tone touched a chord somewhere in Devin inclining him to ask, “The two of you, you do have something going do you not? I mean what I saw…”

Elliot interrupted, “What you saw was two people in love.” He lied much for the fact that ‘rape’ bore considerable weight and besides Elliot was not about to admit to something he did not believe in. He like Devin had seen and known those embraces of Catherine’s. He still believed that she had wanted him…at the time. “Catherine might not be talking to me now, but that is only because she is embarrassed at how things turned out. Had you not of seen us…” Elliot’s voice trailed away deliberately, letting the unsaid bore more weight than the said.

Devin was shaking his head “I can’t believe it yet my own eyes saw it.” He spoke these words as if to himself, as if he were alone and suddenly as he perceived that Elliot was still there he flung open the door, “Get out!” He seethed, “Tell the woman I will be over to see her later this day. And you had better not be there Burch! I’m warning you!”

“Don’t worry. She can take my room, I’ll pay up for two days stay and move elsewhere. There is just one thing though.”

“What!” Devin was holding the door wide willing Elliot to step through it so that he could slam it shut behind him.

“I want to thank you for saving my life. No matter what I shall always be grateful to you for that and if you ever need anything you only have to ask.”

“Get out of here!” Devin shouted wishing with all his might at that moment that Elliot was still rotting away down in that pit.

“Sit down Vincent. Would you like some tea?”

His father’s tone left Vincent wary. He ignored the offer, rising instead to the reason of Peter’s visit. “What is it? Peter what’s wrong? Is somebody ill?”

“No. It’s not that…” Peter began and with a swift look in Father’s direction he appealed for help in this delicate matter.

“Er hm it would appear that Peter has heard from Devin.” Father began in his most curt tone, in the belief that keeping businesslike might help him through this ordeal.

“And…” Vincent’s tone was guarded, whatever they were going to tell him, he obviously would not like.

“Its about Catherine.” Peter felt inclined to butt in even knowing that Father was searching for ways to tell his son the devastating news.

At this Vincent’s heart lifted, “She is well. Catherine is returning. Our bond enlightened me of this fact just moments ago, don’t worry so Father, Peter, Catherine is well.”

The two older men exchanged worried glances not lost to Vincent, his heart stilled in his chest. “What is it, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry Vincent. I have something to say to you that is not pleasant news, but we feel that you should be told as hard as it will be to accept it.” Father’s eyes as kindly though they appeared hid a certain fear deep within - that fear terrified Vincent.

“What, what is it?” his voice sounded hollow to his own ears. He ached to know and not to know, whatever it was they felt fit to tell him.

“It would appear that our greatest fear has proved true. I’m sorry Vincent, but remember Devin would never say these things unless he had absolute proof.” Father hated himself for drawing it out, yet felt unable to tackle it head on. He was still in relative shock of the news himself.

“Proof of what?” Vincent’s tone was beginning to startle them. His eyes rolled warily, Peter and Father knew the signs, knew that what they were about to do could kill Vincent. They had discussed that possibility at length before his arrival, yet they felt he had to be told. He had a right to know that his wife had been having an affair with another man and that man being Elliot Burch no less. Father decided to tell it as seen by Devin and as Devin had told the story to Peter over the telephone that previous evening.

“…and so you see when Devin hobbled back to where he had left Catherine…he couldn’t believe his eyes…oh Vincent what can I say…Elliot and Catherine they were…they were…”

A myriad of thoughts flew through Vincent’s mind as his father was unable to go on. What were Catherine and Elliot doing that rendered it impossible for Father to relate? Vincent’s speculations went wild, he could only assume what they were trying to tell him. Devin had caught Elliot and Catherine kissing.

He almost laughed, “There could be any reason for that. It doesn’t mean anything. Lots of people kiss for any number of reasons, I am surprised that Devin jumped to conclusions. Father you almost killed me back there, I imagined far worse things.” Vincent was smiling humoured by their troubled faces. As if Catherine kissing Elliot Burch or the other way around would worry him, well it worried him a little, but until he knew any different he would assume that there had been a plausible reason for it happening. Besides he could well remember that dream a few days ago, the one where he had felt Catherine’s distress and he knew that whatever had transpired between Catherine and Elliot his dear wife had not been a consenting party to it. At least that’s what he believed at that precise moment in time and would have continued to do so had Father not spoken further on the matter.

“They weren’t kissing Vincent…”

‘Not kissing?’ Father had Vincent’s rapt attention once again. How he wished kissing was all it had been. Vincent he was sure could have handled that. This next he could not.

“They were making love.” The words were spoken so quietly, yet to Vincent it was as if Father had shouted from the rooftops. His head swam, his heart stopped in his breast and he saw the floor coming up to meet him moments before he knew he was passing out from the disgusting images chasing through his mind.

Holding the container, Leo moved aside the velvet covering to expose the glittering array of gemstones beneath. He gasped - they were exquisite, beautiful. He saw his future there, saw everything money couldn’t buy. Prestige glory, elevation. Leo had made it.

“Let me see.” Pedro hovering until now on the sidelines so to speak came to the table and rested his hungry eyes on the fruits of his labours. He whistled as he too saw his future in glittering lights mapped out before him.

“I could find you a buyer and make you millionaires overnight but I can see this is not what you want. If you would permit me therefore to publish this find in our journal - well you don’t need me to tell you what that would mean. Your esteem would be sublime. You will be treated as lords and kings through the whole of Brazil and possibly beyond.”

Leo smiled imagining that grandeur, yes that is what he wanted, what he had always wanted, and even sharing the find with Pedro did not lessen that title. Together they could rule the country, there was only one thing that stood in the way of their fortune, the third share that they had owned to Pepe and now to his descendants and the forth share that Stuart felt was his. These two shares would be enough to rock his boat so to speak, but those other two shares would tarnish the glory and the wealth that was for now theirs.
Stuart was one thing, he could be got rid of, the children were another. No one yet knew where the children had run to and there were so many of them. But Leo took pleasure in the fact that in having Sophia followed it was only a matter of time before they could finish what they had started and the whole two shares would remain intact.

To be continued in part 9.