Diamonds Aren't Forever Read online

  "We found him on the floor moaning, his gun nearby."

  "Jamey's out cold and there's blood on her skirt. Charley said Carl punched her in the stomach."

  The detective hurried back into the house with Hawkman at his heels. They searched the area for any signs of blood splatters or other weapons, but found nothing.

  "Looks like his fist did some internal damage, if she's bleeding that bad,” Williams said, heading out the door.

  By the time they exited, the paramedics had the girl on a gurney, pushing her toward the ambulance.

  Hawkman rushed up alongside. “Jamey, can you hear me?"

  She moaned and raised an arm. Hawkman noticed how the afternoon sun glinted off the bracelet around her wrist. He turned to the attendant. “Is she going to be okay?"

  "Can't tell, sir. Looks internal. We've got to get her to the hospital before she loses any more blood.” The paramedic stepped inside the van and pulled the doors shut. The other man jumped into the driver's seat. The vehicle left with lights flashing and sirens blaring.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  His mind racing, Hawkman stood at the curb and watched until the ambulance turned the corner out of sight. The second emergency vehicle, with Carl Hopkins aboard, took off in the same direction. Two police cars followed. He hastened back toward the house and waited until Detective Williams finished up with a couple of his officers before pulling him aside. “I need your help."

  The detective furrowed his forehead. “We've got this case pretty well wrapped up, except for getting that blue Honda towed to the yard so we can check it for prints. So, what's on your mind?"

  "Jamey's wearing a diamond bracelet. Can you confiscate it and have it examined?"

  Williams raised his brows. “For what? And on what grounds?"

  "If my hunch is right, we might just find the forty or fifty diamonds missing from that heist in Oklahoma. Those gems were all marked."

  A crooked smile graced Williams lips. “That's right."

  Charley stood within hearing distance and moseyed up to the two men. “Sounds mighty reasonable to me."

  Hawkman lifted his cowboy hat and smoothed back his hair. “Why do you say that?"

  "That's the whole reason Carl kidnapped that girl. He wanted her to clear his name and tell the police she'd planted those diamonds in his truck."

  "How did Jamey respond?” Hawkman asked.

  "She never admitted a thing, probably ‘cause of me being there. That little gal didn't want no witness.” Charley shook his head. “But I could tell she knew exactly what the man meant."

  Williams glanced at him with interest. “Charley, I want to get your statement about what Carl Hopkins and Jamey Schyler talked about during the time in that house. It might open up an unsolved case. Could you meet us at the station in about two hours?” The detective took a hold of Charley's arm. “By the way, are you okay? Did you get injured?"

  Charley waved a hand in the air. “Hell, no, I'm fine. The little lady took the brunt of the wimp's blows. That coward didn't have the guts to tangle with me."

  The detective grinned and gave Charley a pat on the shoulder. “See you in a little while.” Then he turned back to Hawkman and pointed his forefinger. “I'll meet you at the hospital; I need to stop by my office for a minute."

  Hawkman waited in his vehicle at the medical center's parking lot until he saw Detective Williams’ car approach. The two men strolled toward the entrance.

  "I picked up a John Doe Warrant that Judge Ross issued me a while ago.” Williams chuckled. “We go back a long time. “He told me to keep them handy, as he didn't like to be disturbed during his dinner hour."

  Knowing the judge he described, Hawkman grinned and nodded. “Sounds like something he'd do."

  When they entered the emergency room, Hawkman hung back as Detective Williams pulled out his badge and approached the admitting counter.

  Within a few minutes, the detective drifted toward a row of empty chairs, and motioned for Hawkman to join him. “We might as well sit. It looks like it's going to be awhile. The doctors have Jamey in surgery. The clerk didn't know anything else. I gave her the warrant for Jamey's personal belongings."

  Hawkman plopped down on one of the seats, crossed a leg over his knee and put a toothpick between his teeth. “Looks like that blow she took did more damage than one would assume."

  "Yeah, he must have ruptured some internal organ. I told the nurse we wanted a report as soon as they brought her out of surgery."

  "Did you ask about Carl Hopkins’ injuries?"

  Williams nodded. “Yeah. He's getting stitches in the back of his head and will be released to the police.” He checked his watch. “I told Harry to meet me at the station in an hour."

  Hawkman looked at him with a quizzical expression. “Harry who?"

  "Harry Jenkins, the jeweler. I told him to round up the stats on the diamonds that weren't recovered in the Oklahoma heist. We'll have him check out that bracelet tonight."

  Hawkman dropped his foot to the floor. “Williams, you think of everything. That's a great idea."

  The clerk called the detective to the window and handed him a large manila folder. The detective checked the contents, then signed the release paper. He spoke with her for a few seconds, then waved for Hawkman and they headed for the exit.

  "She said it would be a couple of hours before they knew anything,” Williams said, as they walked toward their cars. “I told her we'd be back."

  At the police station, they'd no more settled in the detective's office when a tall lanky man, dressed in a worn, shiny black suit entered the door. He carried a bulky scuffed briefcase. Tuffs of unruly hair stood out around his ears. After adjusting the small metal rimmed glasses on his nose, he glanced at Detective Williams and smiled.

  "Good evening, gentlemen."

  "Hey, Harry,” Williams said, standing. “I'm pleased you got down here at such short notice.” They shook hands and the detective gestured toward Hawkman. “This is Tom Casey, a private investigator in our area. Tom, this is Harry Jenkins, the jeweler I told you about earlier."

  "Glad to meet you, Mr. Casey,” Harry said.

  Hawkman stood and gripped the man's extended hand, noting his firm handshake. He liked him immediately. “Glad you could come."

  About that time, an officer poked his head around the corner. “There's a Charley Sullivan waiting in the lobby. Says he's supposed to give you a statement."

  "That's right,” Williams said, slapping his forehead. “I almost forgot.” He shoved the papers to one side of his desk. “Harry, will this give you enough room to work?"

  "Sure, that'll be plenty."

  "Let me get the envelope from the safe. I'll be right back."

  The jeweler sat down in Williams’ chair and placed his briefcase on the floor.

  "Where's your shop?” Hawkman asked.

  "I'm working for a local jeweler right now, but have bids in for a small building in the mall. I hope it comes through so I can set up my own business."

  "Are you new to the area?"

  He shook his head. “I grew up here. But got restless and wanted to see the world. After college I went abroad and visited different gem manufacturers. Even visited some of the diamond fields down in Africa. Fascinating place."

  "I bet,” Hawkman said. “So, are diamonds your specialty?"

  "Yeah, you might say that. I find them captivating. Particularly since the man made ones have entered the market."

  I hear with the technology today, it's hard to tell the difference between the real and the fake."

  Harry nodded.

  About that time, Detective Williams rushed into the room. “Sorry about the delay, got stopped in the hallway.” He pulled the bracelet from the sack and handed it to Harry.

  The jeweler held a sheet of paper in his hand. “These are the numbers on the missing diamonds."

  "Give it to Hawkman, he can check them off."

  Harry looked puzzled. “Who?"

&
nbsp; Williams laughed and pointed. “That's Casey's nickname. I'll see you guys later. Shouldn't take me long to get Charley's statement."

  The jeweler smiled and gave Hawkman the paper. He then adjusted the light above the desk and spread a piece of velvet cloth on the table. “If these diamonds are branded, and match the numbers, then we've found the missing gems."

  Hawkman scooted a chair up to the desk and watched while the jeweler put the loupe to his eye as he examined the bracelet on both sides.

  "I'm going to have to remove the stones to see the markings. I'll replace them when I'm finished."

  "Sounds fine to me.” Hawkman said, as he watched the man carefully remove one stone after another and place each on the cloth. When the jeweler had about half the diamonds out of the bracelet, he placed the loupe to his eye and examined each one, reading aloud the number etched on the gem. As Hawkman checked them off, it verified in his mind, of Jamey's guilt in the heist.

  After about two hours, Harry had the bracelet back together and handed it to Detective Williams. “Well, gentlemen, it looks like you've found the missing diamonds."

  The detective stared at the bracelet draped across his hand. “Why would she wear it here?"

  Harry shrugged. “Some women are strange. They become attached to their jewelry and never take it off. They'll wear the piece to bed, in the shower, and after a while, forget they have it on."

  Hawkman thought about what the man said. It fit Jamey to a tee. He'd figured she'd switched those diamonds into a zircon bracelet because they found some fake stones in the bags discovered in Carl's truck. After she arrived in South America, she probably had them reset into a nicer setting and has worn it ever since. Maybe it reminded her of how much she'd accomplished by herself.

  Williams placed the piece into a plastic bag and slipped it into his pocket. “She won't be getting this back."

  The detective had Harry sign some papers, thanked him and the man left.

  Hawkman stood and stretched his back. “Shall we go see if Jamey's out of surgery?"

  "Yeah, and I want to put a guard by her door. I don't want that little crook slipping through our fingers again."

  Hawkman nodded as they walked out of the office and headed down the hallway. “You got that right. Jamey's one tricky gal with lots of pranks up her sleeve. Be sure and warn the officer that she isn't to be trusted, regardless of any excuses she might give."

  They reached the waiting room, and saw Jamey being wheeled into recovery. The detective stopped one of the nurses and asked her for the doctor's name attending Jamey Schyler. She pointed at a man exiting the surgery doors. “That's him, Dr. Sloan."

  Williams presented his badge. “Dr. Sloan, I'm Detective Williams of the Medford Police Department, and this is Tom Casey, a private investigator who is working with us on this case. We need to know the condition of Ms. Jamey Schyler."

  The doctor ran a hand over his graying hair. She's going to be all right. The facial bruises will heal with no problem. But the blow to the abdomen caused her to lose the baby. Since Ms. Schyler's lost a considerable amount of blood, we'll keep her a couple of days for observation.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Hawkman's mouth flew open. “She was pregnant?"

  Dr. Sloan nodded. “Yes. About six to eight weeks along."

  "When can we see her?” Williams asked.

  The doctor glanced at his watch. “She'll be in recovery for a couple of hours. Then they'll take her to a room. But I doubt she'll be very coherent. I'd advise you to wait until morning.” Dr. Sloan studied the men's faces. “Is she in serious trouble?"

  "Could be,” the detective said. “I'm assigning an officer to guard her door, since she's clever at eluding us."

  The doctor sighed. “I see. I'll notify my staff.” He put out his hand. “Good luck."

  Hawkman and Williams watched the doctor take off down the hallway, then exchanged looks.

  "I certainly didn't expect to hear that news,” Hawkman said.

  The detective shook his head. “Quite a shock. Makes it look mighty bad for Hopkins. Kidnapping, having a gun and now this. He'll be put away for a mighty long time.” He straightened his jacket and strolled down the corridor with Hawkman at his side. “There's no sense in hanging around. We might as well call it a night and come back in the morning."

  "Sounds good, I could use a few hours’ shuteye."

  The two men drove out of the hospital parking lot and turned at the intersection in opposite directions.

  By the time Hawkman drove over the bridge toward home, he could feel exhaustion enveloping his body. The clock on the dashboard read eleven forty-five. When he entered the house, it surprised him to find Jennifer at her computer.

  "What deadline is keeping you up this late?” he asked, moving behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders.

  As he massaged her tight muscles, she closed her eyes and smiled. “Oh, that feels wonderful.” Then she pointed at the screen. “How do you like the layout for my newsletter?"

  He stopped rubbing her neck, and studied the monitor. “You're doing a newsletter? Won't that be a lot of work and cut into your writing time?"

  "I'm only going to distribute it three times a year. I have a lot of short articles I haven't used and extra pictures. This would be a good place to expose them."

  "You've definitely done a professional looking job,” he said.

  "Thanks. So how was your day?"

  He sat down in a chair next to her and exhaled. “Full of surprises.” He related the day's events and ended it with Jamey losing her baby."

  Jennifer gasped. “Jamey, pregnant! Oh, my, that's quite a surprise. I'd have never thought she'd let herself get that way."

  Hawkman nodded. “I don't think she knew, although the doctor said she was six to eight weeks along."

  She shrugged. “It's possible she didn't know. Some women have abnormal cycles. And I've even heard of a few who've had a short period the first month they're pregnant.

  Hawkman waved a hand in the air. “I wouldn't know anything about that."

  Jennifer grinned. “Well, what's the next step, now that you have the diamonds identified, Carl in custody and Jamey in the hospital?"

  Hawkman raked a hand across the stubble on his chin. “I really can't say. We still have no proof that Jamey had any involvement with that Oklahoma heist. It'll be her word against Carl's about how those diamonds got into his truck."

  "But what about the bracelet?” Jennifer asked.

  "She could claim she bought the piece of jewelry in South America. No one can prove otherwise.” He let out a long sigh. “You can see the direction this case is taking and make a good guess how it will go down with a jury, if it ever gets to court."

  Jennifer's hazel eyes widened. “So without Carl's testimony, this girl could walk away free."

  He nodded. “The only other thing we can hope for is that her lover becomes worried enough to fly in and save her. However, there's a warrant out for his arrest. They suspect him of taking off with the big jewels and leaving the country. He'd be picked up the minute he stepped foot inside the States."

  Jennifer scoffed. “You can bet that's not going to happen. But he might hire the best lawyer he can find to take care of Jamey."

  "I'm afraid you're right.” Hawkman stood and crossed the room to the window overlooking the lake. The moon's reflection glimmered off the still water and the sound of an owl echoed in the distance. He took off his hat and tossed it onto the couch. “I'm going to bed. Have to get up early and meet Williams at the hospital."

  "I'll be in after I finish this page. Good luck, in case I'm still asleep in the morning when you leave."

  "Thanks."

  * * * *

  The next morning, Hawkman filled a thermos with coffee and left the house at six thirty. Driving toward Medford, he recalled the things he and Jennifer had talked about the night before. He decided to drop by the police station and run some of it by Williams. It'd be interesting to
get his reaction.

  When he arrived at the station, even though he didn't expect the detective to be in yet, he checked his office. Not finding him, he went to the lobby and asked if he could use one of their computers. He wanted to see a picture of Bob Evans, Jamey's lover. If the man happened to make it through customs and sneak past airport security, he'd like to know what he looked like.

  The officer pointed him toward a desk near the hallway entry. He went online and looked under Oklahoma's fugitives. He finally found a picture of a Bob Evans wanted for grand larceny. Hawkman read the description and tried to imagine a light skinned, dark blue eyed man around thirty-five years old. He stood five foot nine inches, and weighed a hundred seventy pounds. He studied Evans’ features and, from what he could make out, the man had a firm jaw, a small dimple in his chin and an aquiline nose. His eyes were probably his best feature, being round and bright, with dark brows arched just enough to make him appear alert.

  Hawkman printed out the picture and stuck it in his pocket. Then he returned the computer to the sleep mode. If he spotted Bob Evans, he'd know him. But, unfortunately, he agreed with Jennifer's take on the situation. The man would not appear. He'd send a lawyer.

  Leaning against the wall beside the detective's office, Hawkman heard a commotion near the lobby. He strolled toward the noise and spotted Williams trying to maneuver himself inside as his officers blocked the path of a batch of reporters with their flashing cameras and microphones.

  "What the hell's going on,” Hawkman said, rushing to his side.

  The detective's hair flared out around his head. His suit coat and pants looked like he'd slept in them. The tightness around his mouth and set jaw told Hawkman something terrible had happened.

  Williams motioned for him to follow. “Let's go to my office."

  Hawkman trailed the brisk walking detective down the hallway.

  When they got inside, Williams closed the door. “I need a cup of coffee. I'd have something stronger if I wasn't on duty."

  Hawkman felt the tension of his friend and waited patiently as he poured a mug full.

  "Get yourself one,” Williams said, pointing to a stack of styrofoam cups.