Decker took out a notebook. “Why are you asking me about Yalom’s murder?”

“Because you’re the police and I’m scared. I knew Arik only slightly. But that’s not the point.” Guttenburg tightened his jaw. “Diamonds are risky business. Every time you hear about something like this, it scares the wits out of you. And his wife, too. Did Yalom have children?”

“Yes, he did,” Decker said. “They’re missing.”

“Missing?” Guttenburg frowned. “You mean someone kidnapped them?”

Marge said, “We’re not sure.”

Guttenburg said, “Why are you asking about VerHauten?”

Marge said, “Because we can’t find a listing in the phone book.”

“That’s because they have no U.S. offices. They’re considered a monopoly, and as such, they’re not allowed to do business in the United States. We have antitrust laws here.”

The room was quiet for a moment.

Marge took out her notebook and raised her eyebrows. “You’re telling us they don’t do business with the United States?”

“No, I’m telling you they can’t set up shop here. But they do plenty of business in the United States. We’d all be out on our asses if VerHauten didn’t exist.”

Guttenburg folded his hands and placed them on his desk.

“It’s Sherman Anti-Trust Act technicalities. It’s stupid and inefficient. The upshot is American cutters and sellers are forced to shell out money in travel to get our stones overseas.”

“From Antwerp?” Decker took out his notepad.

“Personally, I go to Tel Aviv to buy my stones. But VerHauten deals with Antwerp. VerHauten is Antwerp.”

Guttenburg smiled.

“I exaggerate, but only a little. VerHauten may be barred from our soil, but they still control us lock, stock, and barrel.”

“Why do you go to Tel Aviv?” Marge asked.

“I’m not big enough to warrant a box from VerHauten directly, so Antwerp isn’t really suited to my needs.”

“A box?” Marge asked.

“The big guys—the real, real big guys—get their stones directly from the South African mines, the diamond pipes. The giants send in their orders, and twice a year they get their boxes of diamonds from VerHauten directly. The company tries hard to satisfy their customers, but even the big players are forced to buy stones they really don’t want.”

“Forced to buy stones?” Marge looked up from her notes. “What do you mean?”

“You either take all—no questions asked—or you get none, meaning you’re relegated back to the secondary market.”

Decker said, “The boxes are nonnegotiable?”

“Precisely. The only questions you can ask concern things like grading—quality, color, things like that. Even so, VerHauten has the final decision. In this business, they are God.”

“What constitutes being a really, really big guy?” Marge asked.

“How about Sir Maxwell Ogdenbaum.”