Family Jewels

35

Paul Eckstein went straight home and found his wife getting out of the shower. He embraced and kissed her, unmindful of her wetness.

“What was that all about?” she asked when she could take a breath. “It’s been a long time since you came home at noon for a quickie.”

“This isn’t about a quickie,” Paul replied, kissing her again. “How would you feel about a week in the best hotel in Paris?”

“Can we afford it?”

“We can, for two reasons. One, I have just been handed the biggest, most lucrative estate job of my life, and two, the job includes investigating a piece of jewelry in Paris.”

“What piece of jewelry?”

“Wait right here.”

“May I put some clothes on?”

“You may, if you’re not interested in a quickie.” He went into his study, to the shelves where he kept a large library of art books, and came back with one on Klimt. She was still naked when he got back to the bathroom. He set the book down on the toilet seat and leafed through it to The Woman in Gold. “That piece,” he said, pointing to the choker.

“No kidding?”

“No kidding, and remember, I didn’t say a word about it. My lips are still sealed.”

“What about your pointing finger?”

“That is not sealed, and it has many talents.” He demonstrated one of them.

“Your finger is very talented indeed,” she breathed in his ear. “Now, are we going to have our quickie in the bathtub, or shall we adjourn to the bedroom?”

They adjourned.

When they parted, breathless and perspiring, Paul said, “The beautiful thing about this assignment is that I know exactly whom to see in Paris, and it will take less than an hour to do that. The rest of the week is ours.”

“I like the sound of that,” she replied. “Who will you have to see?”

“A gentleman of my acquaintance who is the great-grandson of the man who designed the unmentionable piece. He is probably the last man on earth with this information in his brain.”

“And who is he?”

“His name is Randol Cohn-Blume. His great-grandfather was the chief designer of Bijoux Blume, a highly respected Paris jeweler of the first half of the twentieth century. He was also the nephew of the owner. His specialty was the design and crafting of impossibly expensive jewelry for impossibly wealthy clients, and I believe him to be the designer of the unmentionable diamond-and-ruby choker.”

“You couldn’t just phone him?”

“Tell me, would phoning him require an all-expense-paid trip to Paris for you and me?”

“No, it would not.”

“The very reason I am not already phoning him. I am advised that making phone calls from Paris to Paris is possible in this modern day and age.”

“A very sensible conclusion,” she replied. “When do we depart?”

“Let’s see. I have to assemble three teams of catalogers and appraisers and get them to work on three very high-end residences. And after that, we can depart for Paris. Say, three days?”

“Three days it is,” his wife said, getting up.

“Where are you going?” he asked. “I’m ready for another quickie.”

“Nonsense. You haven’t been ready that fast since you were nineteen. I have to start packing.” She got out of bed, found a stepladder, and began hauling pieces of luggage from the top shelves of her dressing room. “Will we be dining out at the best restaurants in Paris every evening?” she called.

“Quite possibly,” he called back.

“Oh, good, then I can take a good dress for every evening.”

He got out of bed and watched his naked wife pulling things from the racks of her dressing room, assessing them and putting them back. Finally she found one acceptable and folded it carefully into her suitcase.

“I love watching you pack,” he said, “especially while you’re naked.” He kissed her on the back of her neck.

“Now, Paul,” she said, applying a firm hand to his chest. “Let’s not start something we can’t finish.”

“It’s worth a try,” he said, guiding her hand downward.

“My word,” she said, “you’re up again.”

“I certainly am,” he replied, towing her toward the bed.

“What on earth brought this on?” she asked.

“The thought of several dozen flawless diamonds and rubies,” he replied, rolling on top of her.

“I should have known it wasn’t me,” she said, wrapping her legs around him. “Never mind, I can make do.”