that will do. See you later. Uh, you're having dinner with Richard here, did you say?"
"And Danny," Hannah added, not quite meeting Alice's eyes. This is so awkward! she told herself.
"As I said, Danny and I will be sharing Hannah this evening," Jarrett murmured.
"I see. Well, have a lovely time. John and I are going to one of the restaurants on the other side of the island. We'll see you in the morning, then, right?"
"Right. Good-bye, Alice." Hannah shut the door behind the older woman with a shaky sense of relief and leaned back against it to stare at Jarrett. For a long moment she could think of nothing to say. Then she burst out, "Don't look so pleased with yourself! I think she's just as innocent as I am!"
"An interesting theory." He smiled. "Just another duped victim, hmm?"
"Yes, dammit!"
"You're forgetting I know something about John and Alice Clydemore."
"Such as?"
"Such as the fact that they've been involved in shady art deals for the past ten years. They've bought stuff from poor African museums, bribed border guards and museum officials, and brought it back to sell for a fortune on the U.S. art market. They've paid a few bucks to Peruvian farmers to rob ancient graves of priceless artifacts and then they smuggled the stuff out of the country and sold it for thousands. John Clydemore even got caught three years ago trying to bring illegal pre-Columbian art in through Customs in Washington D.C."
"What happened?" Hannah demanded, startled.
"Not much. He got slapped with a fine for failing to make a proper Customs declaration, and the artifacts got shipped back to the Peruvian government. Many of the emerging nations are being systematically stripped of their heritage by this kind of smuggling. They've all enacted strict laws forbidding artifacts to be exported from the country, but laws like that tend to get ignored and they're hard to enforce.
Collectors are careful not to inquire too closely into the background of a particular piece of art being offered for sale. Not if they want it badly."
"You seem to know a lot about it," she charged tightly.
"I do. I have an excellent pre-Columbian collection." Jarrett bared his teeth in a brief, humorless smile.
"Then you're no better than the Clydemores," she accused.
He lifted a hand in denial. "Wrong. I'm reformed. I'll admit there was a time when I didn't inquire any more closely into the background of certain pieces than any other collector who was determined to get his hands on a certain object. And I knew where to go and who to see to get what I wanted. But I never slipped into outright smuggling. Frankly, there were easier ways of obtaining what I wanted. But now I don't even use those methods. I'm cleaner than newly fallen snow these days. I only buy pieces offered for sale by reputable dealers who have acquired them from long-standing collections."
"Don't sound so damn virtuous. I'll bet you're planning to keep that little gold fertility goddess all for yourself, aren't you?" It was a shot in the dark, but Hannah thought she detected a flicker of guilt in Jarrett's hard eyes. It was gone an instant later.
"I'm going to return that goddess to a friend of mine. I told you that. It was stolen from his collection in Peru."
"Uh-huh." She didn't bother to hide the skepticism she was feeling.
"Dammit, don't you dare accuse me of shady dealing. You're the one who's still not in the clear," he growled, surging to his feet with a restless movement. "Put your shoes on. We're going browsing or something. I don't want to sit around this hotel room ail afternoon." He stalked back to his own room.
Shopping with Jarrett Blade in the countless gift and souvenir shops of Waikiki proved to be a trying experience. Hannah soon learned that the only way to keep her temper was to ignore him completely when she spotted something she wanted to buy. Jarrett simply did not share her taste in souvenirs, and he let her know it.
"Why on earth do you want that ridiculous statue
"And Danny," Hannah added, not quite meeting Alice's eyes. This is so awkward! she told herself.
"As I said, Danny and I will be sharing Hannah this evening," Jarrett murmured.
"I see. Well, have a lovely time. John and I are going to one of the restaurants on the other side of the island. We'll see you in the morning, then, right?"
"Right. Good-bye, Alice." Hannah shut the door behind the older woman with a shaky sense of relief and leaned back against it to stare at Jarrett. For a long moment she could think of nothing to say. Then she burst out, "Don't look so pleased with yourself! I think she's just as innocent as I am!"
"An interesting theory." He smiled. "Just another duped victim, hmm?"
"Yes, dammit!"
"You're forgetting I know something about John and Alice Clydemore."
"Such as?"
"Such as the fact that they've been involved in shady art deals for the past ten years. They've bought stuff from poor African museums, bribed border guards and museum officials, and brought it back to sell for a fortune on the U.S. art market. They've paid a few bucks to Peruvian farmers to rob ancient graves of priceless artifacts and then they smuggled the stuff out of the country and sold it for thousands. John Clydemore even got caught three years ago trying to bring illegal pre-Columbian art in through Customs in Washington D.C."
"What happened?" Hannah demanded, startled.
"Not much. He got slapped with a fine for failing to make a proper Customs declaration, and the artifacts got shipped back to the Peruvian government. Many of the emerging nations are being systematically stripped of their heritage by this kind of smuggling. They've all enacted strict laws forbidding artifacts to be exported from the country, but laws like that tend to get ignored and they're hard to enforce.
Collectors are careful not to inquire too closely into the background of a particular piece of art being offered for sale. Not if they want it badly."
"You seem to know a lot about it," she charged tightly.
"I do. I have an excellent pre-Columbian collection." Jarrett bared his teeth in a brief, humorless smile.
"Then you're no better than the Clydemores," she accused.
He lifted a hand in denial. "Wrong. I'm reformed. I'll admit there was a time when I didn't inquire any more closely into the background of certain pieces than any other collector who was determined to get his hands on a certain object. And I knew where to go and who to see to get what I wanted. But I never slipped into outright smuggling. Frankly, there were easier ways of obtaining what I wanted. But now I don't even use those methods. I'm cleaner than newly fallen snow these days. I only buy pieces offered for sale by reputable dealers who have acquired them from long-standing collections."
"Don't sound so damn virtuous. I'll bet you're planning to keep that little gold fertility goddess all for yourself, aren't you?" It was a shot in the dark, but Hannah thought she detected a flicker of guilt in Jarrett's hard eyes. It was gone an instant later.
"I'm going to return that goddess to a friend of mine. I told you that. It was stolen from his collection in Peru."
"Uh-huh." She didn't bother to hide the skepticism she was feeling.
"Dammit, don't you dare accuse me of shady dealing. You're the one who's still not in the clear," he growled, surging to his feet with a restless movement. "Put your shoes on. We're going browsing or something. I don't want to sit around this hotel room ail afternoon." He stalked back to his own room.
Shopping with Jarrett Blade in the countless gift and souvenir shops of Waikiki proved to be a trying experience. Hannah soon learned that the only way to keep her temper was to ignore him completely when she spotted something she wanted to buy. Jarrett simply did not share her taste in souvenirs, and he let her know it.
"Why on earth do you want that ridiculous statue
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