Northern Star

They looked at each other and he cocked an eyebrow at her?

“Well?” he dared.

She smiled sweetly. “You’re on!”

It was the first time the African Diamond gala was being held in Central Africa, and Cameroon had the honor of being the host of this prestigious event. Ever since the coalition of African states had nationalized most of the diamond mines in Africa, individual states had more of a stake in how these jewels were mined, traded and exported. This was a coup for Africa, a strong stand for independence from the post-colonial masters. Many were proud of this move and across the sub-continent, it had given rise to a growing nationalistic fervor.

Solange and Mathieu were not as swayed by this nationalistic sentiment as some of their countrymen. Despite the best efforts of the governments to keep things clean, many were willing to pay a high price to obtain some of the best jewels by less orthodox means. The two were more than willing to satisfy these customers and had been doing so for years now. Mathieu had once asked Solange to form a partnership with him, but she had laughed in his face.

“I work alone. I don’t need and army of fawning women to get the work done,” she derided him.

“Jealous, chérie?”

She merely scoffed and didn’t dignify the ridiculous question with an answer.

The event was to be at the newly revamped Chrystal Palace hotel, delightfully situated in the center of Akwa, but close to the seaport and the exit to the South West province via the Bonaberi bridge. Solange had managed to secure an invitation; not only that, she was to be seated at the same table as the Prime Minister’s wife who would be wearing the coveted Northern Star diamond, named for the region the creator was from.

She had met Mathieu when they had both been commissioned to steal some rare blue diamonds by a Saudi Sheik, who had not been able to either buy the diamonds outright or secure a visa from the coalition of African states. He had outsmarted her by replacing the diamonds with paste versions and letting her steal them and make a fool of herself in front of the Saudi client. She was still smarting from that particular coup, though she had managed to on up him on several occasions since then. They danced around each other like dancers engaged in a sensual paso doble. Each had managed to get the other out of a tight spot on several occasions, but Solange would never admit that she had ever helped him.

The star of the show, to be well displayed at the closing gala night together with all the other dazzling creations was the Star of Zaire, aka monzɔ́tɔ (pronounced monstee), a 2500 carat uncut diamond that was not up for sale. But let us turn our attention to exhibit B, La Sereia de Praia, the Siren of Praia, a creation from Cape Verde’s premier joallier, Gustave Tavares. It was made up of 25 freshwater pearls of various sizes and an 800 carat yellow diamond nestled lovingly in the center. Some years beforehand, divers had discovered a cave that was home to a new species of the Pinctada margaritifera or Black-lip pearl oyster, that had hitherto only been found in the waters of Tahiti. Cape Verde was now the world capital of black pearls and the Sereia de Praia was the object of the bet which Solange was determined to win.

Solange had managed to wheedle her way into the staff quarters disguised as a maid for a whole day. She gossiped with the maids about the habits of some of their more distinguished guests and flirted with the guards to get information on some of the security protocols that were in place. Mathieu was determined to put a spanner in the works and appeared out of nowhere, playing the part of a rich businessman who had just flown in specially for the occasion. He was chatting with the hotel manager when Solange tried to slip by and called out to her.

“Hello there Miss, are you the maid who cleaned my room this morning?”

She was forced to stop and walk up to them.

“No Sir,” she said with a tight smile, “I don’t believe so.”

“Oh but I would recognize that back anywhere Mademoiselle. Please make sure you go over the bathroom once more. I don’t like the freshener you used.”

The manager frowned in disapproval.

“I don’t recognize you. How long have you been here?”

“Just two days Sir, I was asked to fill in for someone who is sick.”

He continued to frown, ‘Just do as the gentleman has asked you,” he scolded.

Solange curtsied and turned to leave, feeling rather than seeing, Mathieu smirking behind her back.

“We’ll see who has the last laugh,” she thought, fuming.

The next day she returned, but this time, in the guise of a rich guest and asked for the suite she had been sure to reserve several months prior.

The same manager who had reprimanded her yesterday didn’t recognize her as the ultra-rich Madame Moukoko.

“If the jewels belonged to him,” she thought to herself, “then he’d deserve to be robbed blind for his arrogance.”

In her room, she made sure that she had all her gear ready for the big night. She had the usual suspects on hand to drive the getaway car, which was a brand new Toyota pickup. It would be inconspicuous in the back with all the other service vehicles, yet luxurious enough to not raise an alarm.

Someone knocked on her door and she went to open it. Mathieu!

“You have some nerve showing up here after what you pulled yesterday!”

He laughed.

“Where’s your sense of fun? Did you expect me to make it easy for you?”

“This is not a game!”

“Au contraire, ma chérie! This is most definitely a game and I intend to enjoy it to the fullest!”

She turned away in exasperation. He came to stand behind her and twisted one of her curls around his finger.

“You look beautiful with your hair like this…”

She couldn’t help herself, her palm went up and landed solidly on his cheek. He grabbed her by the shoulders as she squirmed to get free.

“You provoked me! Let go or I’ll hit you again!”

“Hit me again,” he said drawing his face closer to hers. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at him, and then she turned away.

“Stubborn woman aren’t you?”

“Please leave, I have a bet to win.”

The next day was the gala night. The ballroom had been set up as an enchanted forest with the jewels nestled in artificial trees, lakes and waterfalls, to very great effect. The entire scene was magical. There were guards everywhere, some in plain clothes mingling with the guests, so she had to be extra careful.

After the initial viewing and when all the guests had arrived, the jewels would be worn by the carefully selected ladies before they sat down to dinner. The auction was to take place after that.

Solange’s plan was for one of her crew to create a diversion by turning on the fire alarm while she would replace the Northern Star for a copy that she had had made. They would then all sit down to dinner and she would next to the Prime Minister’s wife who would then be wearing the fake while she would have the real jewel tucked away in her clothing. How amusing that would be!

The plan was going along nicely, and Solange had managed to substitute the fake jewel for the real one. She would go the restroom after the first course and then make her getaway.

Things did not go quite as planned. One of the joalliers came over to their table to pay his respects to the Prime Minister’s wife and started when he saw the jewel.

“Mon Dieu! But that is a fake!”

This caused a commotion in the hall. The guards darted towards the table and some ran towards the doors. Guests got up from their seats. Solange was able to slip away in all the confusion and make her way to the back with Mathieu hot on her heels. Unfortunately, one of the guards in plain clothes had seen her leave and he whispered to one of his colleagues to follow.

As Solange and Mathieu made their way towards the back of the hotel, the guard called out to her to stop. She took off her shoes and ran. Her driver saw her running up and immediately started up the engine. She and Mathieu jumped into the back of the pickup as the two guards headed for an SUV and started to chase them.

The highway along the ports was almost deserted and the two cars swerved between lanes. One of the guards took out a gun and began to shoot.

“Give me the jewel Solange!” he shouted.

She took out the pouch and handed it to him. He held it out so the men chasing them could see it. When they saw the gleaming jewel, they were distracted for a moment. Mathieu made a gesture to throw it out of the car and Solange screamed.

“Mathieu, no!’.

As she struggled to reach out for it, he put his hand gently on her arm.

“Darling, it’s all right, let it go.”

She hesitated a moment, then looked back and stared into his eyes and let go…

He threw the pouch out and the other car screeched to a halt while they sped off and disappeared into the night.