Alex Ames - Calendar Moonstone 01 - A Brilliant Plan (27 page)

“See you then.” After a polite second, he added, “Thanks for inviting me.” Little victories.

Next call, House of the Moon. Mom took the call, was delighted to see me again so soon.

I chewed my lip. Several loose ends in my mind were dangling. The drive to San Diego was uneventful, far from the hell ride three weeks ago.
 

We had the house to ourselves, Mom and Dad had gone out, doing good things, their daughter staying home, doing bad things. Fowler arrived first. He rang. I opened the door, invited him in and gave him refreshments. We felt uncomfortable with each other so we didn’t talk at all.

Ron and Juanita arrived a few minutes late, apologized and Ron pecked me an innocent kiss on the cheek.

Greetings all around.
 

We sat around the big kitchen table, three pairs of eyes on me.

“OK, we are here and hooked. Shoot,” Ron said.

I opened one of the table’s drawers, took out a black velvet jewelry pouch and a large brown envelope. I put both on the table and shut the drawer slowly to emphasize the activity.

I took a deep breath. Showtime. “This may come as a surprise to you all. It was I who stole the Maximilian Jewels.”

MY WORDS ECHOED silently in the big kitchen.

Fowler, Juanita and Ron all had their mouths open—staring at me. The only sounds you could hear were the kitchen appliances making their mysterious noises and the tree creaking in its rooting.

Ron started to say something. I could almost hear Fowlers insurance detective brain singing ‘I knew it, I knew it, I have her, I have her… ’ Juanita probably knew that there had to be a punch line somewhere.

I raised my hand. “You never heard that confession. I acted alone. Tomorrow I will contact Andrew Altward and sell the jewels back to him.”

All three were still looking at me, not saying a word. I wondered if Ron was already Mirandizing me in his mind.

Fowler found words first. He spoke very carefully as if any wrong word would blow like a landmine. “And you think that Altward will buy them back from you?”

“I will make him a very attractive offer. He can haggle a little but I don’t plan to ask for more than two million dollars. Consider it a ransom, a commission, whatever,” I shrugged.

Again the calculated words of Fowler, “And Mr. Altward can then resell them to one of his ‘collectors’ for around ten million. Maybe even more, now that we all found out that the Maximilian Jewels are the latest national treasure of Mexico. A sensible price.” He treated me like a little child, still not knowing where this was leading. “However, it remains a mystery why you trade in ten million from ‘The Japanese’ against two million from Mr. Altward.” I just shrugged.

A minute more of silence.

Fowler again. “And how would you convince Mr. Altward that you are in possession of ‘The Max?’”

Now for the dramatic part. I slowly took the envelope, opened it and put a glossy, high quality studio photo of the necklace I had seen around Phoebe’s neck onto the middle of the table.

Fowler was still not convinced. “You really think Altward will deal with you on the basis of a single photo you cooked up with a Photoshop computer program? Come on, girl.”

“So far, no one ever has seen a photo of any of the pieces. Looks convincing to me,” Juanita threw in.

Ron wagged his head. “I have to agree with Fowler. The real thing would be much more convincing.” He turned his eyes at the small velvet pouch and then toward me.

I unknotted the ties, opened the pouch carefully. With two fingers, I slowly pulled out the Maximilian necklace. The very same necklace that I had seen around Phoebe’s neck and on the expertise drawings. I smoothed the little pouch on the table and carefully laid the necklace on it. The gold shone dully and the sparks were flying from the precious stones. Magnificent. Spectacular. “If you can’t be convinced by the photo alone, here is the necklace. Please do not touch.”

Fowler held his breath, studied it carefully, not touching it.
 

Juanita had her nose close to it, too, checking it out. I could see the female longing for beautiful jewelry in her eyes. Ron was the usual slob and tried to touch it. I quickly hit his fingers and he pulled back.

Slowly, it sank in.

“Bloody brilliant,” Ron muttered suddenly and started to smile. “This is bloody brilliant.” He began laughing for two minutes. He took my hand. “You are a gem, Calendar Moonstone.” Laughing again. “For a minute, you almost had me.” Wiping the tears from his eyes, he turned serious again, turned to Fowler. “You got it, yet?”

Fowler gave him a bland look, clearly not. Juanita hadn’t figured it out either.

“We searched Altward’s homes and the gallery, didn’t find the gems,” Ron looked at Fowler for confirmation and Fowler nodded.
 

Ron continued. “So, assuming that Altward has the Maximilian Jewels in his possession, what would he do if somebody showed him a piece of his carefully guarded secret?”

Fowler looked at Ron, then at me. “Hang on; Calendar just confessed that she stole the Maximilian Jewels. Why bring Altward in again? He didn’t do it, it was her!”

Ron started again, like explaining it to a child. “Assume that you, Fowler Wynn, stole the Maximilian Jewels and you hid them well. Calendar shows you the photo of one of your pieces that you thought was in your possession. What would you do?”
 

“I would immediately check to make sure they are still in their hiding place,” Fowler said, slowing down as he spoke. Looking at me, the photo and me again.
 

“Exactly,” I helped him. “All we will do after I meet with Altward is follow him around San Diego. He should lead us to the Maximilian Set.”

Ron looked at me. “Would the David Copperfield of the gem trade tell us how the trick works?”

“I knew there had to be a punch line to this,” Juanita added.
 

I winked at her. “There is, of course. To make the plan work I had to produce some bait. Since I am one of the few living people who, in recent times, have even laid eyes on an original piece from the Maximilian Set, I took the liberty of creating a copy.”

After Fowler made sure that I really had said ‘copy,’ he inched up to the necklace to examine it. “I didn’t want to mention it. But from first glance, it lacked the certain ‘magic’ that I had come to expect from the formidable description everyone was giving me, 333 gold?” He looked at me.

“Yeah, that’s all that I could scrape together from my stock in that quantity. Don’t turn it over. It looks like a Mattel die-cast model from the other side.”

Fowler then studied the facetted stones in the necklace more closely.
 

“Fake?” Ron asked.

“
Au contraire
! Most genuine,” Fowler corrected him with a slightly shocked expression.

I nodded. “I had to make it look as close as possible to the original and the only way to do that was by using the best material available. The guy at the photo studio did some hue and saturation tricks with his equipment to buff the photo, you were right about the Photoshop trick.”

Fowler gave a weak smile. He briefly looked at me and told me telepathically that he would catch up with me the next time. “Fine, I buy that.” He said.

Ron nodded. “Now that you mention it, I may remember the necklace around Phoebe’s neck, which brings us to our other question. Who killed Wally Eastman? Who killed Phoebe Eastman?”

I raised my hands. “Hey, I am already doing my best to trap the thief. You can do a third degree, or whatever, on him after we have him booked.”
 

Ron looked at me. “OK, Calendar, you have the floor and you are running the show. How do we proceed tomorrow?”

“You should arrange for a surveillance of Andrew Altward, of course. Some of your colleagues can trace him and we will follow at a safe distance.”

“What else?”

“There is one more thing that will be revealed tomorrow. Please instruct your people not to interact. Simply watch and tell us.”

“You wouldn’t tell us about your other ace in the hole?”

I shook my head, smiling.
 

I said. “Just to be on the safe side, could you arrange for a surveillance of that UCLA history professor, Benito Salanca?”
 

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Suspicious, aren’t we?”
 

“Let’s not underestimate the university connection. Benito has gone in and out of that museum many times. Stephano Toledo could have been a good buddy of his.”

I WOKE UP after a short night’s sleep, my alarm clock pinging away. Mom and Dad were having breakfast in the kitchen.

“You were out late, Hon,” Mom said.

“Yeah, my policeman took me out,” I lied easily.

“Something developing?” Dad munched over his paper.

“Difficult to say with Mundy still around and all.” I poured an herbal tea and dipped a croissant into it, regretted it immediately.
 

“Will you be in for dinner tonight?”

“Can’t say yet. Have to catch a double killer first.”
 

We changed subjects after that.

Ron picked me up around ten and gave me the go-ahead.

“Our men are in position. You can start your little game,” he said. We drove toward the gallery and Ron let me out two blocks before we got there. “Break a leg,” he said and I walked the last few yards.

I took a breather, checked myself briefly in the gallery door reflection and entered the lion’s den.

The air was considerably cooler than outside, maybe it helped to sell the art. The assistant left another buyer for a second and walked over to me. His face didn’t register any recognition and I asked him to meet with Mr. Altward. He phoned up and Altward came walking down the stairs of the safe room a minute later.

I stepped forward and held out my hand.

“Good morning. My name is Calendar Moonstone. We met briefly a few weeks ago.”

“Ah, yes, the jewel craftswoman. Still looking for my Montenhaute? Still holding my Calder!” His voice had a slightly annoyed undertone as if he didn’t take me serious as he looked me up and down.

“Mr. Altward, I am calling on you because I have something that belongs to you.”

“Yes?”

“I am in possession of an item from the Maximilian Set. And I am willing to sell it back to you.”

Altward looked left and right to check whether the other people in the room had noticed but I had spoken in a low tone. He moved me over to the opposite side of the room where we had more privacy. “The Maximilian Set? How interesting. I read everything in the paper about it.”

“Don’t play me for a fool, Mr. Altward. We both know that you know exactly what this is all about.”

Silence. “What is your role in it?”

“I am a thief, Mr. Altward, a very skilled thief. I have a method of acquiring things.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You will know, Mr. Altward.” I carefully undid the upper buttons of my blouse and Altward had a good look at my fake Maximilian necklace in all its glory. I silently counted to three and closed the buttons again. Altward’s hand came up slowly as if to hold the piece and keep it in view forever.

I handed him the envelope with the photo. Altward had grown rosy around the face and his moustache quivered slightly like a cat in front of a mouse hole. “Now, I do see what you mean. What are you proposing?” He asked carefully.

“I am willing to sell it back to you. Tonight or tomorrow. Two hundred thousand dollars for this piece.” My, my, was I getting cheap. But I wanted him to being able to buy it back without a credit problem. And for someone like Altward, 200K should be easy enough to organize quickly.

“Can I call you about the time?”

I coughed politely. “I will call you at noon. If you haven’t decided by then, I will think of another buyer.” And to twist the knife, “Perhaps Mr. Nakamoto is still around.”

I stepped outside into the sunshine of the San Diego noon and walked back to the corner where Ron had left me. He popped the car door for me and I got in.

“Hook?”

“Line and sinker. I will call him at noon for details.”
 

The Seaport Village Mall was one of the nicer shopping spots in the San Diego area. We took our post on one of the parking levels, Juanita and Fowler arrived and we all squeezed into the small unmarked Toyota. Juanita and Ron were in front, and we civilians were in the back. Fowler’s and my non-aggression pact was still intact.

“Here we are, all together on a double date,” Juanita said with her overflowing optimism.

“I wonder who goes with whom,” I said, looking back and forth between Ron and Fowler.

I checked the time and called Altward from my mobile phone, the others listening in. He agreed on a meeting to hand over the money for the necklace. He named the food court of a suburb mall, tomorrow noon. I confirmed and hung up.

Juanita picked up the microphone of the radio and asked for a status report.

The radio crackled to life. “Topside One. Calder still in Haven.”

“Roger, Topside Two.”

I said, “Let me guess, Calder is Altward. And Haven is the gallery.”

Two other teams gave their standby status and the radio was silent again.

Juanita nodded. “We have two teams, one in front and one in the backyard of the gallery. Altward hasn’t left the gallery yet, made some phone calls, very suspicious—business stuff, lawyer, and his ex-wife.”

“What’s so suspicious about that?” Fowler asked.

“He didn’t call the bank to arrange for the exchange money!” I said.

“Oh!” That shut Fowler up.

Ron explained, “There are two other teams who will support us nearby. Top Three is near Altward’s San Diego penthouse. There is another Newport PD team near his other apartment. They will call-in as soon as there is any development.”

We waited on the parking deck and killed time. Ron and Juanita had books to read, they had obviously done observations before. Since we might suddenly have to leave quickly, Fowler and I were not allowed to leave the car, so we were twiddling our thumbs and making small talk about the latest diamond prices and the new Christie’s Auction catalogue. I made it a private joke to mention as many collectors’ items as possible to Fowler. He was probably mentally writing down each and every item I mentioned in case it was stolen in the next 18 months. This was really fun.