Chapter Fifteen

I dropped Lily off at the bar so she could get her car and pick up Poppy from daycare, then I headed over to my parents’ street. Not that I was planning on visiting them but I’d had a missed call from the Dugans and a voicemail saying they had returned home and I could either drop by or call them when it was convenient.

Speaking to them directly would give me an opportunity to gauge their reaction to the case’s developments. I expected to see only relief, and maybe some curiosity about the identification and the jewels. Both would be natural reactions.

Instead of pulling up at my mom’s and walking to the end house, I took the approach from the other end of the street and pulled around the corner, out of sight.

The fence had been partially filled in with wood panels, held in place with twine. Only small fragments of yellow tape pinned to the right panel indicated crime scene tape had been tacked there recently. Someone had gone to great pains to try and remove any evidence of it and it was understandable why. The sooner the neighborhood forgot about the body buried in the yard, the better. Soft scrapes sounding from the other side suggested someone was at work.

A car was in the driveway so I headed up the path and knocked. Footsteps sounded from the other side of the door and there was a long pause where I felt I was probably being scrutinized through the peephole.

Carrie Dugan opened the door, wearing an apron and drying her hands.

“Thanks for coming by,” she said. “Pete and I are eager to hear what the news is. I’m hoping you have something to tell us?”

“I do,” I said.

“Come into the kitchen. I was in a baking mood and needed to keep my mind off worrying. Melissa is at Pete’s mom’s and Pete’s outside tackling the yard. He’s grimly determined to make it look as different as possible.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Excuse the mess. We’re still unpacking,” she said as I followed her into a light and airy kitchen that overlooked the rear yard. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Juice?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“Then I’ll call Pete.” Carrie hurried off, leaving me alone in the kitchen. The interior renovation looked almost complete with the kitchen and dining room one big room. A sofa was against one wall with a large rug and a wicker basket of toys. A tray with an artfully arranged posy and glossy hardback books had been set on the coffee table. Several boxes were stacked against the wall. Over on the kitchen island, mixing bowls and utensils were paired with a large recipe book held open on a clear stand. The oven made a soft hum.

“Hi there,” said Pete. He wore faded jeans, the knees rubbed with dirt, and socked feet. “Carrie and I are eager to know how it’s going. Do you know who the dead guy is yet? I called Lieutenant Graves but he wasn’t available.”

“We do. The ME was able to confirm him as a Charles Black.” I watched them for any reaction but there wasn’t a spark of recognition.

“I don’t know anyone by that name,” said Pete. “Do you, honey?”

“No.”

“He was a former rental occupant of the house. At the time, he was going by the name, Joe Smithson.”

Carrie looked at Pete and he shrugged. “That name isn’t familiar to us either.”

“I think it’s just a coincidence that you bought the house twenty years after he lived here.”

“And was killed here,” said Carrie with a shudder.

“We don’t know he was killed here for certain, but it’s likely he was.”

“How awful!” She pulled a chair out from the kitchen island and sat, letting out a breath before rubbing her pregnant belly.

“What about the jewels?” asked Pete. “Has anyone claimed them?”

“We haven’t been able to track down anyone close to the deceased yet. I was with Lieutenant Graves when the jewels were appraised and some additional checks need to be made,” I said, purposefully vague.

“What kind of checks?” asked Carrie. “Are they very valuable?”

“Yes,” I said, “it looks that way but until we can be sure of the provenance, and their ownership, it’s unlikely the police will release them. The good news is: you’re both absolutely in the clear. The police aren’t interested in either of you as suspects.”

“That’s certainly good to hear,” said Carrie. “I guess that wraps up the case? I suppose we were a little hasty in hiring you but I’m glad we did. Is there any paperwork we need to fill in?”

“No. I’ll send you a report and your check covers the fee. There might be a small reimbursement but I’ll confirm that with the remittance slip I’ll include.”

“I guess all we do now is register our claim with the police and wait and see,” said Pete.

“You can do that,” I said. “I’m sure Lieutenant Graves can advise you further.”

“I’ll walk you out,” said Carrie after they both shook my hand. “I can’t tell you how grateful we are to get some answers.”

“I’m glad I could help,” I said, then I left, pleased that at least someone had some answers. But what about me? I wondered as I got into my car. I was no longer officially on the case but how could I let it rest when I still had so many questions? Before I started the engine, I called Garrett. “I just spoke to the Dugans,” I told him.

“Yeah? How’d that go?”

“They’re pleased to know they aren’t suspects and it sounds like they’ll put a claim in for the jewels.”

Garrett snorted.

“You don’t think they’ll get them?” I asked, thinking about the Queen’s Ruby. If it really was that jewel, who had the bigger claim? The finders now, or the real owners?

“Not these kind of jewels. If it were a ring or a bracelet or something like that, sure, they’d have a claim but the Treasure Valuation Committee will want to take a closer look first. They won’t give up millions.”

“The Dugans won’t be happy. I think they think they have a legitimate claim.”

“Are they still your clients?”

“No. We’re both happy to part ways. I need to write up my report and send it, then we’re officially done. I’m going to sit on it for a few days in case any new developments arise that I should add.”

“But you’re still going to help me out as my consultant, right?” asked Garrett.

I could hardly contain myself. Garrett wanted me to stick around! “Of course,” I said as calmly as I could. “I wouldn’t leave you in the lurch. I’m happy to help.”

“Good because I want to run some ideas with you about gaining publicity for this case. It’s about time we drew out the interested parties we don’t know about yet.”

“I had the same thought. And we need to lure out Gideon Black,” I said. “Plus, I have an interesting lead about the jewels that I think you should know about.”

“I’m about to head out. Come by in the morning and we’ll talk. Can it wait until then?”

“It can. I want to do some more research before I say anything more. See you then.”

~

I was outside the police station at eight AM. Garrett had sent me a text saying he was running late because his son, Sam, had tied all his shoelaces together so I was lingering in my car near a news kiosk across from the police station until he called me again. After spending the evening researching the Rachenstein jewels, I was more and more convinced Ruby had unwittingly provided a brilliant clue and I was excited to tell my brother as soon as I could.

My phone buzzed with a call. “Kinda early, Maddox,” I said.

“Some of us have been up for hours,” he replied jovially. “Working cases, chasing leads, finding jewel thieves.”

“Aha!” I pounced on that. “This isn’t a friendly call. You want to pump me for information.”

“Sure. I’ll settle for information,” he snorted. “Any leads on your jewel find yet?”

I rolled my eyes. “Plenty of leads but I hit a dead end on all of them except one.”

“Are you going to smoke potential suspects out of the woodwork?”

“We are.”

“I thought you’d see the wisdom of that although it could bring more than you expect. Could you do me the courtesy of keeping me informed?”

Maddox was never this polite. Whatever he wanted, he wanted it badly enough not to tease me. “Why?” I asked, my curiosity clutching me.

“I mentioned I’m working a case with a thief? She’s responsible for probably a dozen jewel heists. She’s a menace.”

“She?”

“We know she’s a woman and we know this is the sort of cache that might pique her interest. That’s all I can tell you. Could you give me a courtesy call if any women show up in your inquiries? Please,” he added, politely.

“I can,” I agreed, “but I’ll need more to go on than just a female menace. Is this anything to do with the names you mentioned?”

“She has a lot of aliases. Caucasian, thirties, American but she’s good with accents. It’s a long shot. I doubt she’s in town but you never know.”

“Hair? Eyes?”

“Yes, and two. Apart from that, your guess is as good as mine. She might be bald and wearing an eye patch the next time she turns up.”

“So you don’t know what she looks like?”

“I do, but I couldn’t tell you what she looks like today . Or if she’ll look like today tomorrow. I’ll send you some photos so you can see for yourself.” With that, several images came up on my phone. “Take a look.”

I scrolled through several grainy photos. “Are these all the same woman?” I asked.

“Yep.”

“She looks so different.” Long brunette hair and green eyes, a redhead with green eyes, a blond pixie cut, a bob with a baseball hat pulled low over her eyes. Then there was every conceivable fashion choice: skinny jeans, dirty and holey sweater and track pants, an evening dress, a pant suit. She looked different in every picture yet with the high cheekbones and a sweetheart face, I was sure I was looking at the same woman. “I’ll let you know if a woman matching that very broad description pops up.” I wondered how many of the female employees of MPD that covered. Maddox was crazy if he thought his description would help.

“Cool. I really want to arrest her.”

We said goodbye as a man walked past me, stopped to buy a newspaper and walked off with it under his arm without even looking at the cover. I caught one word in the headline: JEWELS. I hopped out, bought a copy, unfolded it, and raised my eyebrows at the headline.

PRICELESS JEWELS FOUND BURIED IN BACKYARD WITH BODY.

“Mystery of dead man living under assumed name. Police have few leads,” I read before I grabbed my phone as I settled into my car, the newspaper spread across the wheel. I called Garrett, pleased that he picked up straight away.

“Did you see The Gazette ?” he asked as a door slammed shut on his end.

“I’m reading it now. Did you release that to the press?” I asked.

“No, someone leaked it. I would have given more targeted quotes than their anonymous source. Could have been anyone from the Dugans to the morgue employees to my team. I’m afraid we’re going to get calls from a thousand fortune hunters all with a compelling reason why the jewels should be handed to them forthwith.”

“I have a lead that might help you cut the numbers.”

“Are you anywhere near the station?”

“I’m outside.”

“I’ll be another twenty minutes. Bring donuts.”

“On it,” I said and hung up. The Donut Delights drive-thru was less than ten minutes away so I killed time by heading there and ordered a mixed box. As to why I was buttering my brother up with donuts remained a mystery but since I planned to eat some too, I was okay with that.

“That was quick,” said Garrett when I walked into the station, waving to the desk sergeant. “I only just got here.”

“I’m incentivized.” I held up the box.

Garrett peeled back the lid and said, “You took a bite out of the sugar glazed ring.”

“And it was worth it.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t taste test the rest.”

“Me too!” Gosh, I was good to my brother! Helping him pro-bono and bringing donuts. If only he were a sheriff, he could deputize me immediately.

Garrett shook his head, sighed, and motioned for me to follow him. We headed to his office, keeping the donuts under guard, and he dropped the box onto his desk. As he sat, he reached for a triple chocolate and bit into it. “What have you got for me?” he asked.

“Have you heard of the Queen’s Ruby?” I asked.

“No.”

“Twenty years ago, there was a big exhibition in New York with a jewel named the Queen’s Ruby as the centerpiece of a whole bunch of other jewels and jewelry. Right after opening night, the ruby was stolen and never seen again.” I passed Garrett my phone, the browser open to the page with the ruby’s picture. Since my searching the night before, I felt I knew as much about the theft as anyone at the time did. The ruby was stolen, and there were no concrete leads only theories and rumors. I’d even found a website dedicated to crimes that listed it as one of the most audacious thefts of the century.

“That does look a lot like our ruby,” Garrett said, nodding as he contemplated it.

“It also explains why no one’s seen it in all this time and why it’s never turned up. It was buried in Charlie Black’s shallow grave in a minor city where no one would ever think to look.”

“It’s going to be hard to place Black in New York at that time. We already know he used at least one alias and I’m not drawing any luck tracking his movements under his real name or the one he used to live here in town. He could have used any number of names in his lifetime.”

I settled in my chair, the glazed donut in hand. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“And security wasn’t as good then as it is now so I doubt we’ll get much from the robbery file. Let me see if I can track down the detective in charge of the ruby case. It’s the kind of crime that would stand out in your career so he or she should have something to say.”

“There’s another thing,” I said. “I got a weird call from Maddox earlier. He says he wants to know if any female thieves turn up in our case. Something to do with a jewel thief in his case. I doubt the two cases cross but Maddox thinks she’ll be interested in this.” I tapped the newspaper’s front page. “He said he doubts she’ll be in town but there was something about how he said it that makes me think she might be familiar with the city.”

“That’s a lot of thinking,” said Garrett. “The jewels are locked up tight. Let’s deal with one thing at a time.” He shoved the donut into his mouth and turned his attention to the computer screen. He tapped at the keyboard, frowning with concentration. That was funny because back in my temping days, I used to frown hard at the computer screen when I wanted my employers to think I was doing something productive instead of playing my seventy-fifth game of online solitaire. “Okay, I got a Detective Phipps who was assigned the Queen’s Ruby case but he retired six months ago. There’s a good chance he’s still alive.”

“That’s good news.”

“For now. Let’s hope he didn’t have a heart attack in the last six months. Odds are good though. I’m going to give the department a call and see if I can get a number for him. Do you want to sit in?”

“Duh. Obviously, I do.”

“Then hang tight.” Garrett reached for his desk phone and tucked it between his ear and shoulder as he dialed. While he went through the rigmarole of getting to Detective Phipps’ previous captain, I relaxed in the uncomfortable chair and stretched my legs. Finally, Garrett made a note, smiled, thanked the person on the other end of the line and hung up.

“I have Detective Phipps’ number. Apparently, this case was one of his biggest bugbears and he was disappointed to retire without it being solved. His captain says he’ll be happy to hear there might be a new lead.”

“Can we call him now? I want to hear what he has to say.”

“No time like the present.” Garrett was already dialing. I barely dared breathe as I waited, trying vainly not to raise my hopes. Detective Phipps hadn’t solved the case twenty years ago; I wasn’t sure what he could offer us now after so long. “Hi there. This is Lieutenant Garrett Graves looking for Detective Phipps,” said Garrett. He hit the speaker button and replaced the handset. “I’m here with Lexi Graves, who’s consulting for the police department over here. She brought in the lead.”

I said my “Hello” as I bristled happily, thrilled once more to be an official consultant. Who knew that would ever happen? I couldn’t wait to remind Garrett about this forever.

“My captain texted me just now. I didn’t expect you to call so quickly,” said Detective Phipps, his voice warm and congenial. “He probably told you the Rachenstein museum case sat on my desk for years. One of those that just bugs you, you know? I’m hoping a good lead must have lit a fire under you to call me this fast.”

“You could say that,” said Garrett. “We’ve got two interesting leads that may have a connection with your case. The first is a body we found.”

“A body? Huh! Well, you don’t say!”

“Caucasian male, fifties, would be in his seventies now, gunshot wound to the head that our ME ruled as homicide. We struggled to identify him correctly at first since he was found with a driver’s license under an alias, Joe Smithson, but we’ve now identified him as Charles or Charlie Black. Do those names ring a bell with you?”

“Can’t say they do. I was going to get my copy of the file out because it’s been a while since I looked at it and I’m a little shaky on the particulars. All the same, no, I’m sure I don’t recognize those names. I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“No, all good. We figured if Black used one alias, he may have used more, especially as building a history for him is turning up blank. Can I send you a photo?”

“Of this Black guy? Of course. If you have a pen, I’ll give you my email address or you can text my phone.”

“Phone would be good, thanks, but I’ll take your email address too,” said Garrett, scrabbling for the pen he’d dropped only moments before, then giving up and plugging it directly into his cell phone. “I’ll send it to you now.” The message disappeared with a whoosh .

“Got it. Hmm. He’s not a standout guy in the looks department. I mean, not memorable in any particular way. Just kind of average. Something’s a little familiar about him but I can’t think of what. When it comes to me, I’ll call you back if that works?”

“Sure does. While we’ve got you, it would be great to get your thoughts on the case.”

“Off the top of my head? Can do. I wish I had a chance to refresh my memory of the minor details before you called but I can give you the key facts now.”

“That would be great.”

“I don’t know what you know already but the Queen’s Ruby was a big deal. It was one of those rare jewels that just had to be seen to be believed and it had all kinds of history attached to it. Anyone who was anyone rich wanted to buy it or borrow it. Even big Hollywood starlets wanted it to wear for the Oscars and the like but they were always turned down. The owners didn’t want a jewel like that set into jewelry. They wanted it admired for the stunning gem it was. Although there were photos from a time when the former Queen wore it, first at her wedding, then at her coronation. The pieces were dismantled after that since the ruby was too big to wear as a regular piece. Not that I would know. I wear my college ring and my wedding ring and I’m good. I’m not a tiara man.”

“Me neither, but Lexi might beg to differ,” said Garrett, grinning.

“It’s true,” I said. “I could handle a tiara.”

Detective Phipps chuckled. “This thing has weight to it. I doubt it was ever a comfortable piece to wear. Anyway, it was on its first official tour outside of Rachenstein, and New York was its penultimate stop in the States. It was due to have one more stop in Washington DC, if I recall, before it went to Europe for six months, then back to Rachenstein. I don’t follow fashion and that kind of thing, but I was told back then the exhibition was a big deal. This was the first time Rachenstein was putting its state jewels on tour in I don’t know how long, and who knows when it would happen again? However, after the theft, the tour was canceled, all the untouched jewels were returned, and none of them have toured again. It was a national embarrassment and caused a diplomatic nightmare.”

“How so?”

“Rachenstein weren’t happy with the security. They weren’t happy with the investigation. They brought their own people in but they couldn’t find anything either. There was a big reward too for information that led to the recovery but all that turned up were fortune hunters and liars. Last I heard, the reward was still active.” Detective Phipps paused as he took a breather, the sound of sipping reaching us. “The theft spawned all kinds of articles and was mentioned in books, and there was even a film a few years back. It’s often featured on those top ten heists TV shows and I heard a rumor there was going to be an investigative podcast, but I think that fell flat. Shame. I fancied myself a pundit, although I wish I could claim I’d recovered it. Now that would be a story, but I guess with no leads and no good ending, there’s nothing new to say about it. Unless…” He paused, waiting for us to fill in the blank.

“We’ll have to take a look at some of that media,” said Garrett. “Did you have any strong suspects?”

“No, that’s the thing. Rachenstein cleared all their employees from cleaning to freight to security, and we cleared everyone at the museum. The ruby was in situ in the museum but we still cleared everyone on transport either end too. The museum tech was top of the range for the time and the museum hired in extra security guards as per their agreement with Rachenstein.”

“Direct museum hires?” I asked.

“No, they were hired through a security contracting outfit. They went bust after. Although I gather they circled the wagons and started up again under a new name so the new company wasn’t associated with the bad press. The company went out of business when the owner died, oh, five years ago now. I never got any inkling of wrongdoing from them then or afterward. Meanwhile, the museum had a surge in infamy.”

“Did you take a look at known thieves in the city?” asked Garrett.

“Sure, but none of them were that caliber of thief. I’m telling you, whoever did it was real smart. There was no way they could have done it without casing the place, having the tech schematics, the security rotas, and the building plans. The heist was meticulous.”

“Did you ever figure out how it was done?” I asked.

“Yeah. It took me a week. I’d say I was embarrassed it took me that long but it was so clever, I’m just glad I discovered it at all. It was so simple, I laughed when I figured it out.”

“That so?” said Garrett, raising his eyebrows at me. “We’re all ears here.”

“Listen to this. The museum had a crew in for maintenance prior to the exhibition. Part of it was to repair a wall, paint, and refinish the floors. Only they didn’t just repair the wall, someone created a concealed room behind the paneling. It was big enough for one person to stand upright or sit. It wouldn’t have been super comfortable but it was enough to conceal someone. Get this… it was installed right under a camera, in the corner of the room, completely out of view. The camera was nudged up just a little, enough that the guard monitoring the camera in that room wouldn’t see the false door open or close.

“So what I think happened was the contractors finished up their work a week before and took off. No one noticed this little room since it was hidden in the paneling, in an unobtrusive corner. The exhibition pitches up and sets out the display. They host their party with the press and all the fancy people drinking champagne and getting a special talk and that kind of thing. I figured the thief got on the invite list somehow.

“Sometime late in the night, he gets into the room and conceals himself. I figure he put some supplies in there when it was made. Clothes, probably a bag with snacks and water, whatever he needed to get through the night and clean out easy. Anyway, sometime during the night, he gets into the room. He waits for the museum to empty out at closing time, then he leaves this little room and grabs the jewels. He’s able to override the security measures, take what he wants and gets back into the room unnoticed. The jewels don’t leave the museum for the first few hours after their theft.

“Since he left paste crap in their place and nothing about the display was broken, no one notices at first, and the exhibition opens the next day to the public. It’s a Saturday, the exhibition is sold out for the month and it’s busy. People want to see this glamorous stuff owned by European royalty. At some point, the thief gets out of the room, dressed as just a regular person, mingles with the crowd, and walks out of the museum, the jewels in his pocket.”

Across the desk, Garrett raised his eyebrows.

“Wow,” I said. “That’s audacious.”

“He was a cool cat, all right.”

“Did you get a good look at him?” I asked.

Detective Phipps laughed mirthfully. “I wish. He knew where every camera was situated and he had a cap on too. We got a nice look at the back of his head. Figured his height was just shy of six feet. Average build. White guy.”

“How do you know it was him?”

“We don’t for sure but he when we cross-referenced the people who entered the museum that morning, we couldn’t spot him. He never entered. He only left.”

“And the night before?”

“There were an awful lot of men of average build, around six feet. Even when we got hold of the guest list, there were numerous men from overseas that we couldn’t track down, as well as unlisted plus-ones.”

“How about the contractors?” I asked. “You must have taken a look at them too? One of them had to have made the concealed room?”

“That’s what I figured and we did, but none of them were new hires or contractors and none of them disappeared afterward. Since there were plenty of them, I figured our guy pulled on overalls and just walked in and did his stuff like he was one of them. With everyone working in different rooms, on different jobs, no one questioned him.”

“That’s ballsy,” said Garrett.

“You’re telling me. Any number of things could have gone wrong with his plan but he was in and out and no one saw a damn thing.”