Blood on the Stars Read Free Page B

been designed by nature for the position he held as manager of the most exclusive and expensive jewelry shop in the most exclusive and expensive resort center in the United States. He carried his well-fleshed body with an air of dignified respectability which held none of the subservience of the common shopkeeper, yet with no trace of the insolent hauteur too often found in such an establishment. He was a big-boned man, wearing a conservative brown business suit, a soft white shirt and a subdued flowered cravat. His head was completely bald and pink, and his ruddy face glowed with health and intelligence. His heavy brows were bleached a light tan by the Miami sun, and his gaze was direct and pleasant and friendly. He had a firm handclasp for Mark Dustin, and his voice was strong and warm with only a faint touch of his native Holland accent sounding through the cultivated tones:
    “I’m very pleased to meet you, sir, and will be happy to be of service to you if I may.”
    “My name is Dustin,” Mark told him. He had risen to greet the manager. “Mark Dustin, from Colorado,” he added, “and this is Mrs. Dustin.”
    Voorland bowed stiffly from the waist as he took Celia’s hand. “Delighted,” he said in a tone which made them believe he was, indeed, delighted. “I am at your service.” He drew up a chair to the opposite side of the table and lowered his solid bulk into it, planting his feet together in front of him and placing the palms of his hands on his knees.
    “We were told,” said Mark, “that your store carries the finest stock of good jewelry in Greater Miami. That’s why we came here.”
    Mr. Voorland said, “Naturally.”
    Dustin spread out his hands in a half-humorous gesture. “I had rubies in mind. Perhaps a bracelet. But your clerk brought only one cheap one for us to look at.”
    “Rubies?” Voorland studied Celia intently, nodding his bald head. “Perfect. With your hair, Mrs. Dustin—and your exquisite complexion. Rubies, definitely. Are you a connoisseur, Mr. Dustin?”
    “Not a bit of it.” Dustin laughed. “I’m just in love with the most beautiful woman in the world and this is our anniversary and I’m looking for something very special to celebrate the occasion.”
    Voorland lifted his right hand from his knee and reached inside his coat to get a pack of chewing gum from his shirt pocket. It was a new pack, and he carefully peeled the cellophane off one end, pulled two of the sticks out and offered them in turn to Celia and Mark Dustin. When they declined, he gravely slid one stick from its paper and thrust it in his mouth. His attitude was one of contemplative devotion. He had big jaws, and he munched the small piece of gum a moment before settling back contentedly.
    “My only major vice,” he confided. “I find that I think better and more clearly while chewing gum. It was very trying for me during the war when gum was so scarce.”
    Neither of them said anything while he munched meditatively. Mark was beginning to look bored, and Celia was losing some of her bright expectancy in disgust and irritation at his smacking.
    Presently Voorland said, “Precious gems are my vocation and my avocation, Mr. Dustin. They are my life. I know them all, have studied them all, from the far places whence they come through the great markets and cutting centers of the world. It is curious that you should come to me for rubies. Or, perhaps it is not curious at all. Perhaps you came to me because you have heard I am the greatest authority in the world on rubies.” He rolled up the rumpled lids of his deepset eyes and looked at them inquiringly.
    Dustin shook his head. “We just happened to drop in,” he said with a touch of asperity. “If that dinky bracelet your man showed us is the best—”
    “I am about to tell you about rubies, Mr. Dustin,” Voorland interrupted, holding up a smooth beefy hand to silence him. “Rubies are the most royal of gems. Diamonds? Bah! Cold and glittering