Harper Rock was no different to any other city. It had its better suburbs with its boutique shops and its clean sidewalks, and it had its slums. It was no better or worse than London, if a little smaller, perhaps. Only a week had the agent been in town, but he knew what his job was; he knew what he was here to seek. These walls and pavements, these tunnels and streets and crevices, there were secrets here.
The shop was pristine; the space had been bought by hands and faces with unknown names, by government departments that had webs spanning the globe. Iain walked the paths he was told to walk in shoes bought by privilege. It had not always been this way. Hard work and study had carried him to this position, and he held fast to the rules that governed him. Unattached and free of strings, Iain meandered the interior of the jewellery shop. The glass was polished, not a speck of dust in sight. The diamonds beneath gleamed and sparkled beneath the strategically placed down lights.
The cover was an easy one. Diamonds were Iain’s forte. He lived and breathed diamonds, their trade the focus of his investigations for the past half a decade. Paths, however, were not always made straight. Some paths meandered from the beaten track, covered over by brambles and thorns. Some travellers were drawn down those darker stones lured by a light on the other side. Some were merely too curious for their own good. Iain was merely ready for a change. The cover he wore was one of a jeweller, relocated from London to Harper Rock to open this franchise – the name was not terribly clever. The Diamond Boutique.
The caverns were to the North East, he knew. Caverns full of jewels. If there was trade – illegal trade – of these gems in Harper Rock, Iain was here to uncover it. That was his second cover. The third was confidential.
For now, his mission was to acquaint himself with the city he was now to call home. The shop was to become his apparent pride and glory and on this fine Spring morning, he certainly looked the part. His smile was as gleaming as the diamonds that he was to sell, his suit as sharp as a diamond’s cut edge.
The sign was flipped to ‘open’.
The jeweller, King in his own kingdom, moved behind the counter and waited.
The shop was pristine; the space had been bought by hands and faces with unknown names, by government departments that had webs spanning the globe. Iain walked the paths he was told to walk in shoes bought by privilege. It had not always been this way. Hard work and study had carried him to this position, and he held fast to the rules that governed him. Unattached and free of strings, Iain meandered the interior of the jewellery shop. The glass was polished, not a speck of dust in sight. The diamonds beneath gleamed and sparkled beneath the strategically placed down lights.
The cover was an easy one. Diamonds were Iain’s forte. He lived and breathed diamonds, their trade the focus of his investigations for the past half a decade. Paths, however, were not always made straight. Some paths meandered from the beaten track, covered over by brambles and thorns. Some travellers were drawn down those darker stones lured by a light on the other side. Some were merely too curious for their own good. Iain was merely ready for a change. The cover he wore was one of a jeweller, relocated from London to Harper Rock to open this franchise – the name was not terribly clever. The Diamond Boutique.
The caverns were to the North East, he knew. Caverns full of jewels. If there was trade – illegal trade – of these gems in Harper Rock, Iain was here to uncover it. That was his second cover. The third was confidential.
For now, his mission was to acquaint himself with the city he was now to call home. The shop was to become his apparent pride and glory and on this fine Spring morning, he certainly looked the part. His smile was as gleaming as the diamonds that he was to sell, his suit as sharp as a diamond’s cut edge.
The sign was flipped to ‘open’.
The jeweller, King in his own kingdom, moved behind the counter and waited.
