Diamonds.
It was in the 13th century when European merchants first re-encountered this fabled gem of kings.
By the 14th century, Venetian craftsmen began cutting and polishing them to remove their flaws.
In the 15th century, Archduke Maximilian of Austria presented a diamond engagement ring to Marie de Bourgogne, marking the first use of the stone as a symbol of eternal love.
By the 16th century, Antwerp controlled forty percent of the world's diamond trade; they maintain a dominant share of the industry even today.
Then, during the 17th century, a passionate French gem hunter carried off a massive blue diamond from India's Kollur mine. After it was polished and cut, he named it "The French Blue" ...
...
...
Fleming: ... "The French Blue." A fitting name indeed. Your knowledge of diamonds impresses me deeply, madam.
The man raises a glass of golden champagne, and the one receiving his toast accepts it with calm poise.
Tennant: Trouble is, when it comes to diamonds, there's always a mix of truth and fiction.
Fleming: One thing is true enough—the diamond ring I bought my ex-wife cost me three thousand dollars.
A sly smile tugs at the man's lips.
Tennant: Diamonds are fitting symbols of love. On that, I must wholeheartedly agree.
Fleming: I have to say I enjoy all of this diamond talk, madam ... Oh, I forgot to ask your name.
He extends his hand, inviting the woman to take it.
Fleming: Fleming Longen, international trade manager.
Tennant slips off her glove and clasps the scarred hand.
Tennant: ... Brette Cosette. I deal in jewels, occasionally.
Fleming: Madame Cosette? I heard from our host you were recovering from another bout of gastritis.
Tennant: You must be mistaken. I've never had gastritis. The only thing that plagues me is a bad tooth.
Tennant: But Mr. Rawls has found me an excellent dentist, bringing him all the way from Austria just for a little toothache.
Fleming narrows his eyes, thumb rubbing the silver ring on his pinky. After a pause, he downs his champagne.
Fleming: ... Mm. I suppose that must be it.
Fleming: Apologies, Madame Cosette. I've only just arrived from America. I'm still feeling out the atmosphere.
Tennant: I presume you're seeking new opportunities in Paris then? I may just be able to make some introductions.
Tennant: Is it true you brought a shipment of classic "typewriters" along with you?
The man taps his empty champagne glass impatiently.
Fleming: Let me give this to you straight—I'm always happy to make a new friend, but if you're after my business ...
Fleming: The answer is: no.
Fleming: I might be new here, madame. And you may well be enchanting, but I didn't get this far by trusting dames with smiles as quick and crooked as yours.
"Brette" hits the wall earlier than expected, yet the accusation doesn't break her stride.
Tennant: Of course, how could I object? Caution is a virtue in our line of work.
Fleming: Enjoy the party, Madame Cosette.
???: Well said, Fleming. Knowing how to enjoy oneself is a fine thing.
A woman in a brilliant blue gown appears at their side. Her voice is soft and sleepy, betraying a growing weariness with the party.
The white-haired woman's gaze lingers on Tennant for a long while, but neither speaks.
Tennant: ...
After their silent exchange, Fleming feels the need to step in.
Fleming: This is Ms. Adelita. A friend—I invited her to join me tonight.
Fleming: Madame Cosette here is a talkative jeweler. We were just discussing the history of diamonds.
Tennant: I do believe we left off on "The French Blue." I can only imagine how a gem like that would pair beautifully with your attire tonight—if only it were mine to give.
Adelita: Diamonds hold little novelty for me.
The elegantly dressed woman makes a weary show of her indifference to jewels and to flattery. Tennant finds herself at a rare loss for words.
Fleming: I think you'll find Madame Cosette has a wealth of knowledge beyond the topic of jewels. I'm sure she'll find something that will take your interest.
Adelita: Alas, I have no interest left to give. The drinks here are too strong to suit conversation. I should like to return to my hotel.
Fleming: Please, madame, it's much too early to leave. The night is only just about to come alive.
Adelita: All the better for you, Fleming. I wouldn't want you to miss me too much. But all I want now is a good radio drama before bed.
Fleming: How about I take you to a late-night comedy show instead? Only, I've got a matter to settle with Mr. Drelome first.
Adelita: A night wasted on comedy and pawnbrokers? You aren't making a very convincing offer, darling.
The man is caught in a clear dilemma, unwilling to leave the party but loath to see her go so soon.
Perceptive as ever, Adelita catches his hesitation.
Adelita: Ten. Fleming, I'll wait until ten. But not one moment later.
Fleming: You've got a deal. I'll go see if I can speak with Drelome now and free myself before half past nine. After that, we'll still have time to talk.
Adelita: I'll be waiting. But only for so long ...
She turns toward the bar. The arms dealer sighs, first to himself, then to no one, before hurrying off.
Tennant wastes little time before following the mysterious woman. Adelita leans with her back to the counter, looking at her expectantly.
Tennant: ... Adelita. That name stirs the imagination.
Adelita: Forgive me, I've forgotten ... What was your name?
Tennant: It's no small wound to be forgotten by such a beauty. It was and is Madame Cosette.
Tennant: But if you'll indulge me, Brette is the only name I'd ask you to use.
Adelita: Brette ... It's got a lovely ring to it.
Adelita's response suggests she isn't averse to conversation, so Tennant presses further.
Tennant: ... Adelita, I hope you don't mind my asking—Mr. Longen, is he your travel companion?
Adelita: In the most basic sense. We both recently arrived from the States. But I only just met him today.
Adelita: But allow me a question, Brette. What made you approach him at this party?
Tennant: Truth is, I was told he was aiming to sell submachine guns through the underground. A man like that is often in need of connections, and I am an expert in such things—for the right price, naturally.
Adelita: You came on much too strong. Mr. Longen could see your intentions from a mile away.
Tennant: Because I never intended them to be hidden, my dear. Sincerity is a rare and valuable commodity in my trade.
Adelita: Is it now, Brette? I think you haven't shown nearly enough. And I suspect you aren't getting what you want tonight.
Like a spider sensing its prey, she already knows what's coming next.
Tennant tips her hat, and in a flash, smooth as silk, she closes the distance between herself and the white-haired woman.
Tennant: Tell me then, how much would be enough?
Tennant whispers to the bartender. Before long, two glasses of crimson liquor are placed before them.
Tennant slides one toward Adelita.
Tennant: A "Bloody Sunset." Can I tempt you, madam?
Adelita lifts the glass but only breathes in its fragrance.
Adelita: "Bloody Sunset"?
