His eyes held mine and his thick lips quirked in a smile that was almost a grimace. He said, "I take it you want an extra-special gift. I might say a gift for the departing, even a fatal gift."
I gulped and nodded.
He raised the box and slipped the catch. The lid rose slowly on coiled hinges and I was staring at the most delicately wrought necklace I had ever seen. It was long and thin, no wider than a shoestring, and the clasp was a beautifully constructed replica of a snake's head. I looked at the intricate design of the narrow chain with wonder. Certainly it was not a product of Earth, I thought. Nowhere on this planet do we have craftsmen capable of such elaboration of minutiae.
Even more striking than the workmanship of the chain was its coloration. It was not gold, as I had first thought, but a metal unknown to me with a flame-like orange glow. My gaze was drawn away from the necklace by Rosy's soft chuckle.
"It is magnificent, is it not?"
"Yes," I said, "but far beyond my means. I had in mind some trifle—"
Rosy lifted a hand for silence and again I noticed the purple flecks in the palm. He said, "Nothing is too expensive for the woman you hate."
I began to stutter a protest but something in Rosy's expression stopped me. He spoke gently, as though humoring a child. "We do not need to discuss price. The necklace will make you a wealthy man. We can settle upon terms then."
"I don't understand."
"Ah, but you will," he said smiling. "You do not recognize the metal. There is nothing strange about that. Probably no man of Earth has ever seen it and lived. In Mars it has been given the name of Malutrex and, even there, it is both rare and extremely expensive because of its peculiar properties. In all, I doubt if more than a dozen such necklaces were made up. They are called,"—he stopped to underscore his point, "Murderer's Chains."