“It’s a remarkable piece,” Rupert said, his admiration a perfect echo of Alexander’s own. “But then, you’ve seen the original.”
“The resemblance is uncanny.” Alexander turned the replica in his hand, letting the candlelight catch the facets of the cut stones. They shone brilliantly, and he was impressed by the workmanship. “I’ve never seen so fine a fraud. I could only tell them apart when I had the genuine Eye of India in one hand and this counterfeit one in the other, and then only with close examination.” He didn’t tell even Rupert about the small mark on the back of the forgery, made so that they could be reliably distinguished. Cushing was nothing if not diligent.
The two men were in Alexander’s rented quarters at the Mermaid’s Kiss. The hour was so late that the tavern had quieted
