Go-ahead chaps, you South Africans. Ah, heres the tea.
Mrs Smith put the tea tray on to the desk and drew up a chair. I looked at her with interest because anyone Mackintosh trusted was sure to be out of the ordinary. Not that she looked it, but perhaps that was because she was disguised as a secretary in a regulation twin-set just another office girl with a nice smile. Yet in other circumstances I thought I could get on very well with Mrs Smith in the absence of Mr Smith, of course.
Mackintosh waved his hand. Will you be Mother, Mrs Smith? She busied herself with the cups, and Mackintosh said, Theres no real need for further introductions, is there? You wont be around long enough for anything but the job, Rearden. I think we can get down to cases now.
I winked at Mrs Smith. A pity.
She looked at me unsmilingly. Sugar? was all she asked.
He tented his fingers. Did you know that London is the world centre of the diamond business?
No, I didnt. I thought it was Amsterdam.
Thats where the cutting is done. London is where diamonds are bought and sold in all stages of manufacture from uncut stones to finished pieces of jewellery. He smiled. Last week I was in a place where packets of diamonds are sold like packets of butter in a grocers shop.
I accepted a cup of tea from Mrs Smith. I bet they have bags of security.
Indeed they have, said Mackintosh. He held his arms wide like a fisherman describing the one that got away. The safe doors are that thick and the place is wired up with so many electronic gimmicks that if you blink an eyelash in the wrong place at the wrong time half the metropolitan police begin to move in.
I sipped the tea, then put down the cup. Im not a safe cracker, I said. And I wouldnt know where to begin you need a peterman for that. Besides, it would have to be a team job.
Rest easy, said Mackintosh. It was the South African angle that set me thinking about diamonds. Diamonds have all the virtues; theyre relatively anonymous, portable and easily sold. Just the thing a South African would go for, dont you think? Do you know anything about the IDB racket?
I shook my head. Not my line of country so far.
It doesnt matter, perhaps its for the better. Youre a clever thief, Rearden; thats why youve stayed out of trouble. How many times have you been inside?
I grinned at him. Once for eighteen months. That was a long time ago.
Indeed it was. You change your methods and your aims, dont you? You dont leave any recurring statistics for a computer to sort out no definite modus operandi to trip over. As I say youre a clever thief. I think that what I have in mind will be just up your street. Mrs Smith thinks so, too.
Lets hear about it, I said cautiously.
The British GPO is a marvellous institution, said Mackintosh inconsequentially. Some say ours is the best postal system in the world; some think otherwise if you judge by the readers letters in the Daily Telegraph, but grousing is an Englishmans privilege. Insurance companies, however, regard the GPO very highly. Tell me, what is the most outstanding property of the diamond?
It sparkles.
An uncut diamond doesnt, he pointed out. An uncut stone looks like a bit of sea-washed bottle glass. Think again.
Its hard, I said. Just about the hardest thing there is.
Mackintosh clicked his tongue in annoyance. Hes not thinking, is he, Mrs Smith? Tell him.
The size or the lack of it, she said quietly.
Mackintosh pushed his hand under my nose and curled his fingers into a fist. You can hold a fortune in your hand and no one would know it was there. You could put diamonds worth a hundred thousand pounds into this matchbox then what would you have?
You tell me.
Youd have a parcel, Rearden; a package. Something that can be wrapped up in brown paper with enough room to write an address and accept a postage stamp. Something that can be popped into a letter-box.
I stared at him. They send diamonds through the post!
Why not? The postal system is highly efficient and very rarely is anything lost. Insurance companies are willing to bet large sums of money on the efficiency of the GPO and those boys know what theyre doing. Its a matter of statistics, you know.
He toyed with the matchbox. At one time there was a courier system and that had a lot of disadvantages. A courier would personally carry a parcel of diamonds and deliver it to its destination by hand. That fell through for a number of reasons; the couriers got to be known by the wide boys, which was very sad because a number of them were severely assaulted. Another thing was that human beings are but human, after all, and a courier could be corrupted. The supply of trustworthy men isnt bottomless and the whole courier system was not secure. Far from it.
But consider the present system, he said enthusiastically. Once a parcel is swallowed into the maw of the Post Office not even God can extract it until it reaches its destination. And why? Because nobody knows precisely where the hell it is. Its just one of millions of parcels circulating through the system and to find it would not be like finding a needle in a haystack it would be like searching a haystack for a particular wisp of hay. Do you follow me?