Alex Ames - Calendar Moonstone 01 - A Brilliant Plan (19 page)

“Both of our chief suspects are just that, suspects. We have no evidence whatsoever, and, come to think of it, Phoebe’s body hasn’t been reported yet.”

Mundy started his story and replayed it with cookies and sugar packs on our table. “Phoebe and Altward are an item. Phoebe fakes the love; it is all made up to stake out the Altward Gallery. Phoebe and her father hit the gallery. Altward surprises them and kills her father in the gallery, Phoebe escapes, unrecognized, the Maximilian Jewels in her possession. She keeps up the appearance, plays the mourning daughter to the police. Then Altward finds out about her involvement in the theft and kills her. The Maximilian Jewels are back in Altward’s hands.”

“But then the original plan is back to zero. No need for Thomas to force me to look for the Maximilian Jewelry,” I remarked.

“Altward can’t tell Thomas that he has them back. He just killed his girlfriend over those jewels. Maybe this realization makes him think about alternatives. He can sell them on his own.” Mundy shrugged. “That is my play. Without a shred of evidence to support it.”
 

I raised my hand. “My version: Phoebe is involved somehow in the heist, gets possession of the jewels. She then contacts someone in the underworld to get rid of the jewels, triggering Thomas Cornelius into action. Thomas is already involved in the original Maximilian Jewels project with Altward. Then he finds out that Phoebe has the Maximilian Jewels. Thomas hires Billy Bounce, Billy finds Phoebe, kills her. Has ‘The Max.’”
 

“Andrew and Thomas have their ‘project’ back on track and can continue living happily ever after,” I said. “Except for Phoebe.”

“Something is missing, though. If everything is back on track, why are they hassling you?” Mundy was asking the right questions.

“I met with Thomas on Sunday evening. Phoebe was probably killed on Monday or Tuesday; I found her Wednesday night. They have left me alone for a few days now.”

We ordered another round of beer.

Mundy thought loudly, “What will happen now? If we are careful and simply observe the behavior of the participants, we should find out who did it.”

“What do you mean, exactly?” I asked, curious.

“Imagine the situation; there is the body of a young woman in Altward’s apartment in Newport. What would Altward do if he was the murderer?”

“Very stupid to leave the body in the bathroom. I would get rid of her and sink her into the ocean.”

“Right! That is what a guilty Altward will do. But if Altward should turn out to be innocent, we will probably read about the dead girl in Newport in a few days. Either Altward or the cleaning lady will find her and report her.” Satisfied, Mundy looked around as if anyone of the other guests were noticing us.

“Either way, I don’t think Altward can win. Whether he killed her or not, he has to get rid of her body. I mean, both the father and the daughter were found dead on his property, come on. If the police find her in his bathroom, whether he did it or not, he is going to fry. With murder, you have trouble arguing coincidence.”
 

“And what about Thomas?”

“That is a good question. If Thomas Cornelius didn’t have her killed, he will simply wait for the next tripwire that tells him the jewels are on the move.”

“And if he had done it?”

“If he had killed her, he… ” Mundy chewed his lip for a minute, shifting cookies aimlessly. “OK, I agree, here the model stops working. If he had killed her, it is not predictable what he would have done next. Or what he will do? Most likely, he will fence the stuff and wait until some grass has grown. If he killed Phoebe for nothing and the jewels are not in his possession, he may continue with shock tactics. Aaaahhhh!” Mundy shook his head in despair. “This is getting complicated. I hate it.”

“OK, we stick to the first plan,” Mundy had an idea and he rose a finger into the air like in first grade class. “Bring your policeman friend Ron on track regarding the Maximilian Jewels. That surely makes the police curious regarding the value and the circumstances. Because suddenly, it’s not about grandma’s jewelry and there is a lot more at stake, a lot more motives. Then they have grounds to investigate a little further.”

“I’ll sleep over it. But what do you think? Do you think that whoever killed Phoebe got the Maximilian Jewels? Or was the murder over something completely different?”

“Well, if you follow your theory that Billy Bounce works for Thomas Cornelius and that Billy killed Phoebe then Thomas may have them in his possession right now.”

“Never to be seen again.” I mused.
 

Or were they?

I GAVE RON a call and caught him at the police station before he left for the weekend.

“Calendar, good to hear from you again. Hope you are not expecting to present the murderer?” Ron said, well humored.

“No, but I stumbled on something that I wanted to talk to you about. Maybe it has something to do with the murder, maybe not.”

“Everything counts. Shoot.”

“You remember the ex-wife of Altward telling us about some dealings that Andrew had with Thomas Cornelius and someone called ‘Max?’”

Ron could be heard flipping pages in his notebook. “Yeah, about 18 months ago they started some kind of Mexican deal.”

“I found out through some of my art world channels that there is a set of antique Mexican jewelry for sale. The seller is Altward, the price is not named,” I told him.

Ron sounded weary. “OK, he deals in antique jewelry. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“The jewelry in question is a set of ten pieces. It was a present from some Aztec priests to Emperor Maximilian of Mexico in 1865.” I told him some of the highlights. “The value is somewhere between the two and eight million dollar range.”

Ron whistled and I could almost hear his gears going into motion. “That is a lot of money and worth a deadly risk for some people. But they obviously failed, didn’t they? Remember, something else was stolen.”

“Maybe it was, but not reported. At least it might give us an idea why someone was breaking into the gallery. It’s the motive, stupid.”

Ron laughed his nicest laugh. “I give you this. The motive is OK. And it gives me a reason to give Altward another visit and ask him.”

“There is another thing that doesn’t make sense but maybe it will someday. Do you remember the necklace Phoebe Eastman wore at our interview?”

“I do. You said it looked particular and valuable. Highly above Phoebe’s standard of living. Or something or the other.” Ron flipped pages again in the background. “Oh no, you said, ‘spectacular.’ I wrote it down and underlined it.”

“The style and make had a Mexican flavor to it. In my farfetched opinion and female intuition, it is possible that it was a piece of the Maximilian Jewels. Don’t you think that strange, a girlfriend wearing a million dollar necklace in the morning for a police interview?”
 

Ron was quiet for a minute, then in a weary voice, “Are you sure this is all you have to tell me?”

“What else do you want? I am giving you all of my clues,” I said.
 

He sighed. “I will make that two interviews—one with Altward and one with Phoebe. Maybe it will bring a little movement into the case. It desperately needs some kind of break.”

He was silent for a few moments while I heard him tapping on a computer keyboard.

“You said that the Maximilian Jewels are on the grey market and that the price is not named. Does that make it sound suspicious in any way?” Ron asked.

“Not really, if it is a valuable piece with collectors’ recognition, all bets are off anyway. There are approximate prices from comparable objects that were paid at auctions. But each sale is a new game of showing your cards. And it is like a closed offering. It is not on the public market, it’s only by invitation. And probably highly illegal if the source turns out to be the Museum of Mexican History.”

Ron was silent for a minute; I could hear him scribbling and turning paper. “Thanks again for all the input. Different topic: Remember the hacker guy, Hans Polter? He vanished off the face of the earth. Never came back to work again after Thanksgiving weekend.”

“No line on him yet?”

“None whatsoever. But the last thing we know of him is that he boarded a plane to New York City the day after Thanksgiving. I never believe in coincidences. He is hiding low either because he is directly involved or he is scared to be involved.”

“I assure you, I will call you when I meet him.” At least one line I could truthfully deliver with honest humor.
 

“You will,” Ron hung up.

I hung up slowly and wondered who was feeding whom.

SURPRISE. THOMAS CORNELIUS III visited my shop. I recognized his voice as he introduced himself to Mrs. Otis and my heart started beating faster. Get a grip, Calendar girl!
 

“Mrs. Otis, could you give us a couple minutes in private?” I asked Annie as I stepped out of my workshop. She gave a curious little wave and left us in the showroom.

“What an unexpected visit,” I said.
 

“I am planning to go back East. And thought to drop by.”

“It is too early for lunch.”

“I am not staying that long.”

I leaned against the counter and we examined each other for a moment. Thomas pouted his lips. I gave a little shrug.

“It is strange to have that much contact with you again,” he said finally. “We do not see each other for years and then we run into each other all the time.”

“Believe me, the confusion is all mine,” I replied. “Is it business or just for old time sake?”

“Calendar, what about a little deal? I am offering you double the street price of your little harvest from the Altward chest.”

“I can imagine the condition that is attached with this easy money. The answer is no,” I crossed my arms.

“You show a tremendous amount of skill and energy to discover who has the Maximilian Jewels. You are aware of the facts of this case and you are chummy with the police,” Thomas counted off on his fingers.

I said, sullenly, “I wish.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“The policeman in question is unfortunately not as interested in me as he is in solving this case. He hasn’t asked me for a date, yet.”

Thomas laughed his nice laugh. “You haven’t changed a bit, Calendar. Again, here is the deal: I pay you double price on your little Altward stones and release you. In exchange for the Maximilian Jewels.”

“Thomas, you are a cheap shot!”

“Moi? Cheap?” He looked genuinely offended. “Come on, dear. That is a fair deal.”

“My pitiful loot is nothing compared to the value of ‘The Max’,” I poked a finger at him.
 

“Well… ” Thomas had to shift his weight on his other leg.

“You take the Altward stones for fair value plus I get a ten percent finder’s fee for the Jewels.”

“Hang on, ten percent of what?” Thomas looked alarmed.

“Of what you will make on the closed market. You must have an idea by now.”

Thomas chewed his lip. “Impossible. You don’t know what you are asking.”

“I asked the specialist at UCLA and he estimated their value at between five and 10 million dollars,” I bluffed. “Even with only eight million dollars, you can easily spare the 800K for my services.”

“I have a serious offer of 12.5 million dollars,” Thomas said.

I blinked, truly speechless.
 

“You steal, I deal, honey,” Thomas gave me his same small shy smile that I had loved so much way back then.
 

“Come on, what makes you hesitate? You don’t have to share with Altward, do you?”

“What do you mean?” Thomas eyes became small slits.

“Do your math. Either Altward himself stole them, trying to cheat you out of your part of the deal. In that case, should I retrieve the jewels, he can’t complain to anyone. Shady in the first place, stolen by him in the second and stolen again by me for you. He wouldn’t need to know that you fenced them for yourself. And in case I find the stones to be with someone else, I will retrieve them and hand them over to you. All you have to do is to fence them silently and never tell Altward. You both run around with sad faces, yours forced, for another year, split your losses and call it a day,” I ran out of breath.
 

Thomas shrugged. “Fair scenario. Not unlikely. But I still think that it is too much money for you.”

“Twenty percent is your take on every transaction,” I pointed out.

“I am up to twenty-five now but I don’t want to boast about that,” Thomas said dryly. “So, you think you can find the jewels?”

“Can I ask you something, Thomas?”

“Almost anything that does not put me in jail.”

“Did you kill Phoebe Eastman? Or have her killed?” There, it was out. But I needed to know. I wanted to see his reaction.

Thomas looked at me sharply. “Phoebe Eastman is dead? What are you talking about?” He was controlled but his surprise seemed genuine.
 

“Her body has not been found, yet. But I ran across it.”

That shut him up. He started to say something. Then stopped.

“While you are recovering, I need you to locate a person for me in or around New York City.”

“I thought that’s what I hired you to do?”

“No, you hired me to get back your beloved jewels. I am looking for a person who is hiding out.”

“In or around New York?”

“Last seen boarding a plane to NYC.”

“Anyone I know?”

I gave Thomas a quick rundown on what I knew about Hans Polter, the missing hacker. “My personal theory is that he is good in hiding because he got himself a new ID. He can hack himself into plenty of databases and institutions and establish a good background that way. Can you help?”

“I can pump some connections. Can you get me a photo and more information?”

I nodded.
 

“How are you able to discuss this inquiry with me after you just gave me this Phoebe Eastman bombshell?” Thomas asked.

“Did you kill her? You have not answered my question, yet.” I insisted.