Robert placed two packages of documents before the buyer and the seller. All these documents had been examined by the parties a long time ago, but official procedure required it. The diamonds had also been already examined by the bank’s experts. Mr. Zimme personally had checked the quality of each diamond in the presence of bank employees. However, before transferring the money to the buyer and the diamonds to the seller, the procedure required another formal examination.

The metal box was opened, revealing neatly folded plastic bags with big, the size of a hazelnut, diamonds. A gemological certificate was attached to each stone.

Everything was removed from the metal box and placed on a separate table for inspection.

Mr. Kone, in white gloves, approached the table and selected several bags. He took out one stone and looked at it through a special loupe set on a tripod. He compared his examination result with the gemological certificate. Satisfied, he handed the stone to the sheikh, who examined it carefully with his own handheld loupe. Also satisfied, the sheikh nodded.

Kone repeated the procedure with several more diamonds. The Arabs again nodded in approval; they were getting exactly what they expected.

The diamonds were, indeed, wonderful; it was hard to find something of such quality at the price offered by the Russians, and in such quantity.

Finally, the gemologist, having examined yet another stone, looked at the sheikh, but he just made a barely noticeable hand gesture for Kone to continue working. The gemologist nodded, carefully packed the diamond into the bag and placed it back in the box together with the certificate. He then took another diamond from the table and continued to examine it closer through the special loupe.

Robert carefully watched the gemologist.

Thirty minutes passed, but Kone had yet to examine half the stones. He was very thoroughly checking their conformity with the certificates and even more thoroughly packing them into the bags and back in the metal box.

Despite the official nature of the meeting, there was no tension in the room. The Czechs were talking quietly with the sheikh about something through an Arab interpreter.

Robert approached the gemologist and asked quietly in French, “Mr. Kone, do you live in Conakry?”

“No, Mr. Blanche,” Kone answered without pausing his work. “When my great friend Mr. Lansana Conte passed, I had to leave. I moved to South Africa in early 2009. That’s where I live now. That’s where my family lives.”

Kone spoke calmly, peering intently at another piece of treated carbon.

The next moment, a bank officer entered the room and addressed Robert.

“Mr. Blanche. There is a phone call for you.”

Robert picked up the phone and heard the agitated voice of Jovan, his friend and head of the firm’s security.

“Robbie, we’ve got a problem. I just received news from the hospital. Zimme did not suffer a heart attack. They discovered some powerful toxin in his blood.” Jovan fell silent, then whispered, “Poison.”

Robert said nothing. He was stunned.

Jovan quietly continued: “I don’t know where to start digging, but we need to figure out what the deal here is and who benefits. I believe somebody wanted to sideline the gemologist.”

“Did you tell the boss?”

“Roland? Of course, I did. He's already dropped everything and is coming to the office. But I wanted to tell you personally.”

Robert realized he had to do something and do it now. Before the main contract was signed and the transactions begun. He smelled fraud. The reputation of the firm was at stake.