There was a moment of strained silence, and the engineer’s dark eyes glinted with suppressed anger. But his voice was carefully controlled when he replied:
“That’s right. Since then, we’ve dug a few more. I just finished washing them in a bath of hydrochloric acid.”
Jack let the remark go unchallenged. He was convinced however, that the man was lying. Since he had left him in the pit, there had been insufficient time to clean the day’s gleaning of emeralds. Yet the cardboard box, replaced in the safe, had contained at least a double handful of fine specimens.
“Please tell me everything you know about the bandit raid,” Mr. Livingston urged, seating himself on a high stool.
“Nothing to tell. When I arrived here, the workers were preparing to pull out. They told me Carlos and his men had swooped down the night before, terrorizing the camp. Your friend Corning was caught by surprise and taken prisoner. The bandits made him open the safe. They took the emeralds and a little cash and rode off.”
“Odd they’d burden themselves with Corning,” Mr. Livingston commented. “Especially after they got what they wanted.”
“Carlos doesn’t miss any bets. He’ll make a ransom demand.”
“Earlier today you said you were convinced Corning is dead,” Ken reminded him. “Now you’re pretty sure he’s being held prisoner?”
“What are you trying to do? Mix me up?” Rhodes shot at him. “I told you I think your friend is dead, and I’ll stick by it. But if he’s still alive, there will be a ransom demand. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly,” Ken drawled. “I don’t mean to be inquisitive, but to help us get the picture, would you mind telling us why the mine operators hired Corning in the first place?”