Stolen with Style (17 page)

She was looking at me, unwilling to give an inch.

Going out on a limb, I pushed forward. “
Until
it
disappeared
for
a
second
time…
”

This time I definitely saw her flinch.

“You had it, and then you lost it.” I waited a moment before continuing. “Or perhaps
someone
took
it
from
you
?”

For a few minutes I sat watching as Chandra ran her hands through her hair and over her face. She was obviously tormented, her facade of indifference finally stripped away. Then she began to speak.

“If nothing else, it feels good to finally get it out in the open. This week has been a nightmare. I've been agonizing over whether someone would find out. And I've been terrified, because I
did
take the diamond—you're right. But I couldn't say anything, because I no longer have it! How could I possibly admit to Cazzie that, yes, I took the diamond, but sorry, I don't have it anymore? Even to my ears it sounds beyond ridiculous. I mean, who would believe me?” She paused for a moment and seemed unsure whether to say more—and I had a feeling I knew why.

“I know why you're scared…” She looked warily at me as I continued. “I know about the rumor—the one from that shoot when you were starting out as a model…”

She sighed again and flushed, then leaped to her own defense. “I took a necklace from that shoot as a joke. I suppose I found the whole fashion business so
serious
, and I've always been a bit of a prankster, so I just couldn't help myself—stupid, I know. Anyway, I was working with another model on the shoot and she saw me take it, but by the time I gave it back, she'd already left for the day. So she assumed I'd stolen it and started spreading that nasty rumor. I should have fought back, but my agency was worried that I'd bring more attention to the incident and that it would cling to me, whether it was true or not.

“So you can imagine what would happen to me now if I told everyone that, yes, I took the Black Amelia, but guess what, I no longer have it. The nasty rumors would start all over again—and worse!” she said. “That's why I've been so rude to you. I'm sorry. When you showed up yesterday at the shoot, I was sure you must be there undercover to find the diamond. Naturally I wanted to distance myself from you. I'd been hoping that anyone looking for the diamond would find a trail leading straight to whoever actually has it and that I'd be bypassed. So I've been lying low. But it hasn't helped, has it?” She looked away, agitated and anxious. “But if I can help now…”

I nodded. “That would be great. I have some questions that I'd like to ask you.” I was hoping against hope that she might be able to tell me something that could open up a new line of inquiry.

Before I pressed on with my questioning, however, she was at pains to clarify that she'd taken the Black Amelia as a trick, a practical joke, nothing else. It was something she liked to do—or, rather,
had
liked to do, she corrected herself. But this time it had gone badly wrong.

“First, did you have any idea of the diamond's value?”

She shook her head. “Not really. Cazzie had droned on about it while we were shooting, but I wasn't really paying attention. I mean, it's just a stone, isn't it?”

“Not to everyone.”
Then
again,
I thought, as I glanced around her enormous designer apartment,
everything
is
relative
.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I honestly didn't think that anything would happen to it when I took it. The plan was just for it to sit in my handbag for a short while, and then I'd draw Cazzie's attention to it and watch as she freaked out because she couldn't find it.”

“So how did you take it from Cazzie?”

“That was easy. As Cazzie left the set, I saw her put the diamond in her handbag. That was when I had the idea of taking it to make her panic. It seemed like a fun idea at the time—the kind of thing I love to do—but totally stupid now. Obviously I won't be doing anything like that again. My days of magic are definitely over.” I watched her face go a shade paler at the thought of what she'd done.

“I watched as Cazzie went to Brandon's computer and looked at the photos we'd shot… Then she suddenly dashed to the dressing area. I remember we smelled something burning and she thought it might be the iron. In the meantime I walked slowly toward the dressing area. Just as I neared it, the fire alarm suddenly rang and Cazzie appeared from behind the dividing curtain. I remember taking a quick look around the studio at that moment and realizing the noise was just what I needed.

“Everyone was so distracted by the screaming alarm that I was sure they'd never notice me slip behind the curtain into the dressing area. So I did just that. And then I simply reached into Cazzie's handbag and took the diamond. It was in a small box, so I quickly opened that to make sure I was taking what I wanted, then I slipped it into my bag. Anyway, once the diamond was in my shoulder bag, I quietly went back out and joined the others in looking out the windows.”

So far, Chandra had only confirmed what I'd already suspected. She'd taken the diamond exactly when I thought she had. That was good to know, but I needed something new to work with. I had to keep digging.

“Did you take your shoulder bag with you to the window?”

“Yeah. It was on me.”

“And as you were watching the commotion below, did you happen to notice where the others were? Can you remember if they were all at the windows too?”

“I think so, yeah…although I'm not sure I'd have noticed if they weren't. I was mostly excited about the joke I was playing on Cazzie. Even the fire took a backseat to it.”

“Hmm…And after you'd finished looking out the windows, what did you do?”

“I went back to the dressing room and got ready to go home. Things were more or less normal again. Somebody must have turned the music off when the alarm sounded, but it had been switched back on and everyone was packing up for the day.”

“Who else was in the dressing area with you?”

“Misty, Rafaela, and Cazzie.”

“And then?”

“Well, I changed into my own clothes and then put my bag back over my shoulder. It was on the floor near me while I changed.”

“Was that the only time it wasn't on you?”

She nodded. “I think so, yeah. But I had my eye on it. More or less, anyway.”

I let the “more or less” slide for the moment. “Okay. Then what?”

“Then I said good-bye to Rafaela and Misty in the dressing area. But I did it really slowly because I was hoping that Cazzie would look for the diamond and not find it, and then I could surprise her. But Cazzie still hadn't noticed. So I went out to say good-bye to Trish and Tom and Peter and Brandon, thinking I'd circle back to Cazzie.”

“And your shoulder bag?”

“It was still on my shoulder.”

“Can I see it?”

“Sure.” I watched us she unfolded her long limbs and strode across her living room. She came back a moment later with a large purple La Lune shoulder bag that was similar to mine.

“Did you have the top zipped?”

“No. I never do. It was unzipped.”

“Hmm… And the diamond?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Stupidly, I just put it into my bag, right on top of whatever I had in there. I was going to give it back, remember?”

I couldn't help looking sharply at her then. Her story was so childlike—and yet I was dealing with a supermodel who earned millions of dollars a year (and even had her own line of green goop), a world-famous diamond, and a shoot for the most prestigious fashion magazine in existence. It was close to surreal.

“Like I said,” she continued, “I wasn't the least bit worried about the stone's safety. I mean, I never would have imagined that anyone from that group—presumably it's one of them?—would have taken the stone. Never. Ever. I've been working with all of them since I started modeling.”

“You say you think someone from the group took the diamond from you. Are you sure it didn't just fall out somewhere? Dropped out of your bag while you were walking around saying good-bye to everyone?”

She shook her head. “No way. The stone was in a cloth bag that was in a box. Altogether it was about so big.” She held her hands slightly cupped, one over the other, palms facing each other. “Trust me. I'd have heard it fall—and seen it.”

I sighed, then stood up and said, “Can you please put the bag over your shoulder, turn some music on, and then come here and greet me?”

She looked at me questioningly, then nodded and stood up. With her remote, she turned her music on until it was suitably loud. Then she slipped the braided straps of her handbag over her shoulder and came to me.

“Now let's pretend you're saying good-bye to me.”

As Chandra leaned in to double air-kiss me, I put my hand into her bag and pulled something out.

“Did you feel that?” I asked as I pulled back from her and held out the hairbrush I'd taken.

She shook head. “Not at all. Nothing.”

“And in a real-life scenario, with more people around and all eager to leave, you would probably be even less likely to feel something… So if you're sure that nobody—from the moment you took the diamond and slipped it into your bag until the moment you left the studio—went near it, there's a fair chance the diamond might have been taken from your bag when you went around saying good-bye. It could have been done like I just did it now. It's the strongest theory that comes to mind, anyway. But it presupposes that someone saw you put the diamond in your bag to begin with.”

Of course, the thought crossed my mind that Chandra could be lying to me about everything, but I'd look into that possibility later. Not now, not here. “So what happened next?” I continued. “You said good-bye to everyone, and then?”

“Well, I wanted to leave for home, and since Cazzie hadn't noticed anything yet, I thought I'd go to her and say, ‘Can I see the diamond again?' or something like that—anything to prompt her to look into her handbag. But before I went to find her, I stopped by the makeup table to get the diamond ready so that I could quickly make it ‘reappear.'”

“And?”

“And this was the horrible part. When I looked into my bag, it was gone. I don't think I've ever felt so awful. I searched and searched and couldn't find anything!” She was nearly crying now, her eyes beyond worry. “I can't believe what I've done to Cazzie, to
Chic
, to my career! And all because I was playing a stupid, childish joke. How could I have been so dumb? I might as well just disappear to an island somewhere and never come back.”

“So what did you do then?”

“Well, I tried to help Cazzie pack up. I thought maybe I'd find it among her things. Don't ask me why. I was desperate. And I felt sick for not saying anything to her, but how could I? I didn't have it anymore! And maybe it was wrong of me, but the fact that I no longer had it made me feel as if I was no longer responsible for it… I mean, if it had just gotten lost somehow, it was bound to turn up in the studio somewhere. How could it have gotten anywhere else?”

Her voice dropped to a near whisper as she continued, “And if someone had decided to steal it, that wasn't
my
fault, was it? It's not as if I stole it myself. I only took it as a joke…”

The problem was that Chandra had trusted everyone at the shoot that day. She'd thought she was working with real friends. And while most of them probably were, one of them obviously wasn't.

And Cazzie, I thought, had believed that because she'd had her bag on her arm—at least until she'd dashed to the studio windows to look outside—the diamond was safe. And she hadn't thought to check on it until she was leaving—because again, like Chandra, she had trusted the small group of people she was working with.

So if I believed Chandra's version of events—and so far what she'd said tallied with what I'd surmised—someone had seen her take the Black Amelia, and that someone had taken it from her.

So
what
next, Axelle?
I asked myself.
What
next?

***

I saw the doorman do a double take when I stepped off the elevator and back into the cavernous lobby. But before he could ask me anything, my phone started ringing. I smiled as I passed him, then stepped outside. I assumed Pat was calling to berate me about being late for my casting at Diane von Furstenberg, and I was surprised to be greeted instead by Miriam's breathy French accent.

“Axelle, I don't mind you being late—I will assume you've been working for Cazzie—but you must let me know. The clients don't realize that you have special extra work on the side—and as you know, neither does Pat. She had a dental appointment late this afternoon and went home early, so we've been lucky. She would have sent the police out after you by now, and I'm not joking.”

“I'm sorry, Miriam. I was on the case and totally lost track of time. I can't believe how late it is!” I looked at my watch. The time really had flown. It was already eight o'clock, and my appointment at DVF had been for seven!

“Yes, well, don't worry this time. I've spoken with DVF, and they're working late tonight in any case, so you can go there now—they are expecting you. But next time, please let me know.”

“I will.”

“As for your day tomorrow, I told Pat that I would give you the details myself. You have to go to the Condé Nast Building to see
Teen
Vogue
in the morning—they definitely want to book you before you leave. And we've confirmed you for another two shows tomorrow; DKNY is one of them. Their casting scout saw you in Paris, so when I told them that you didn't have the time today to go by, they booked you anyway, which is fabulous.