The Lace Map of Bruges – Part 2: The Auditor

The building in Antwerp was in the old diamond district. Jules took the train the next morning, the lace folded carefully in a cardboard box in his satchel.

The building was a diamond office. Polished floors, security cameras and a woman at reception who looked at his cardigan and rings with open curiosity.

"I'm looking for someone who knows the history of this building," he said.

The woman who came down to meet him was not a historian. She was Noor Haddad, an auditor, in a sharp black coat, with a laptop under her arm and no time at all.

"This was a diamond firm in the 1960s," she said briskly. "Claes Brothers. They went bankrupt in 1963 after a robbery. Forty thousand carats, never recovered." She paused. "Why?"

Jules opened the box.

Noor looked at the lace for a long time. Then she looked at him.

"You're telling me," she said slowly, "that a tablecloth knows where the diamonds are."

"It isn't a tablecloth," he said gently. "And yes."

She should have sent him away. Instead she checked the old building plans. There, in the basement, was a sealed room that had been bricked up in 1963.

"The founder's wife was a lacemaker," Noor said, reading. "Her husband was accused of stealing his own diamonds for the insurance money. He denied it until the day he died."

"Her daughter made this lace," Jules said. "Madame Claes's mother." He paused. "She was leaving a message for someone."

When Jules got back to Bruges that evening, his workshop light was on.

He had not left it on.

Inside, a man was standing at his worktable, going through his drawers. Tall, well dressed and calm.

"Ruben Claes," the man said, and smiled. "My aunt's nephew." He paused. "I believe you have something that belongs to my family."

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Next: Part 3, The Vault. A christening gown on a drying rack, a bricked-up room, and a letter written in 1963.