Lou Elle said, “Can I see you in my office?”

“Sure thing,” he said and hung up. To Nora, he said, “Would you excuse me? This should only take a minute.”

“Of course.”

He closed the door behind him and proceeded to Lou Elle’s office in the same corridor. She’d been the company comptroller for the past fifteen years. He found her sitting at her desk, the ring box open in one hand. She held it up. “What’s the story?”

“Lady in my office is selling it.”

“How much?”

“Seventy-five. She tells me her husband bought it from a New York dealer for one twenty-five. No bill of sale, but she seems sincere.”

“Guess again. It’s bullshit. The diamond’s flawed. It’s been subjected to a process called clarity enhancement, in which a resinlike material is used to correct imperfections. If he paid one twenty-five, he was robbed.”

“Maybe he didn’t know.”

“Or maybe he paid less and lied to her. The color’s bullshit too. The diamond probably didn’t score well so it’s been irradiated, which gives it the pink tint.”

“We’re still talking five point four six carats.”

“I didn’t say it was junk. I said it wasn’t worth seventy-five.”

He smiled. “How much did I pay for your training?”

She handed him the ring box. “Nineteen thousand for the certification as a gemologist, with an additional thirteen grand for certification in colored stones.”

“Money well spent.”

“At the time, you complained.”

“Shame on me.”

“That’s what I said.”

He put the box in his suit coat pocket and patted the bulge. “Remind me and I’ll give you a bonus at the end of the year.”

“I’d rather have it now.”

“Done,” Dante said. “Give Maurice Berman a call and tell him what you told me.”

When he got back to his office, Nora was standing at one of the circular windows, watching the pedestrians passing on the far side of the street.

“Good for spying purposes,” he said. “Glass looks opaque from the outside, smoke black.”

“I’ve seen the windows from the street. Odd to be seeing them from this side.” She smiled briefly and returned to her seat. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. This was another matter altogether. Nothing to do with you.”

He stopped at his desk and removed a big padded mailer from the bottom drawer and then crossed to the side wall and triggered the panel that concealed his office safe. He shielded the contents of the safe from view while he removed seven thick bundles of hundred-dollar bills bound in packets. He added one smaller bundle and placed all eight in the mailer. He returned to his seat before he gave it to her.

She opened the mailer and glanced at the contents. She seemed startled and the color rose in her cheeks.

“Seventy-five,” he said. “It’s all there.”

“I expected a wire transfer or maybe you’d pay by check.”

“You don’t want seventy-five grand showing up in your bank account. A deposit that size generates a report to the IRS.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I don’t want to create a paper trail that starts with me and ends up with you. I’m under investigation. The IRS finds out you’ve done business with me, they’ll beat a path to your door. You don’t want our association coming to light.”

“There’s nothing illegal about selling a ring.”

“Unless you sell it to a guy the Feds are hot to prosecute.”

“For what? You said you were a private banker.”

“A private banker of sorts.”

She stared at him. “You’re a loan shark.”

“Among other things.”

She held up the bulky mailer. “Where did this come from?”

“I told you. I operate a number of businesses that generate cash. I’m passing some of it on to you.”

“That’s why you didn’t haggle. I said seventy-five and you never batted an eye. You’re laundering money.”

“It’s only ‘laundering’ if dirty money’s been integrated and it comes out clean. All you have to do is hang on to it.”

“That’s ridiculous. What good’s the cash if I can’t use it?”

“Who said you couldn’t use it? Stash it in a safe-deposit box and move it into a checking or savings account in increments of less than ten grand. It’s no big deal.”