The fact that I’d called out Jackson on his lie had been his fault for lying in the first place, not my fault for pointing it out. If he’d kept his big mouth shut, none of it would have happened.
After folding the paper and reburying the notice in the bottom of my purse, I took a cleansing breath. Today was another day, and a ‘top priority’ case was just what I needed to get the office focused back on my capabilities.
I was the best at what I did. That had to count for something.
Ethan
The sign on the door said TechniByte IT Consulting Ltd., because we didn’t want to advertise our presence here. Inside, I passed through security and made my way up the lift to the fourth floor and my office.
The new assistant in our section, Judith, was at her desk, with another fresh, single rose in the vase. “Good morning, Inspector.”
I leaned over to smell the pink rose. “Morning. How many plants do you have?”
“A bit more than three dozen—thirty-eight, actually,” she answered with a smile.
“And which variety might this beauty be?”
“Constance Spry is its name. Quite pretty, I think.”
“Agreed.” I leaned over to sniff it once more. “Any messages?”
“Just one from your brother.” She lifted the note and read from it. “He said he landed in New York. And I quote, ‘He’s fine. He’s going radio silent, and don’t sweat it.’”
I cocked my head. “Sounds like him.”
“What does he do? You never said.”
I backed away from her desk. “No. I didn’t.”
She nodded an acknowledgment and was senior enough here at the Met to know better than to ask again.
Once inside my office, I powered up my computer and both screens. My email didn’t contain anything urgent enough to deal with before class, so I opened my binder of notes for this lecture and started my review.
The room would be filled with the same several dozen denizens of this outpost as yesterday—a mixture of good notetakers and bad, alert and dozing eyes, those trying to learn, and those trying to show off. It was the last category that bothered me. Trying to embarrass or trip up the instructor was the goal for two of them. Preparation was my best defense.
If I’d been given the latitude to fail a few of them out of the lecture, I would have by the second day. But the higher-ups had made it clear that all the attendees would be getting the benefit of my experience with the US National Cyber Investigative Joint Task Force in Washington. Expelling them from the lecture wasn’t my prerogative.
The Yanks had things to learn from us, and it was equally true that we had things to learn from them. That was the purpose of my lectures.
Judith poked her head in the door. “You don’t want to be late.”
“So says you.”
“So says the chief,” she corrected. She had a point. Chief Inspector Harcourt seemed to care more about punctuality than anything else—tight ship and all that other rubbish he’d learned in Her Majesty’s Navy. The three pips had gone to his head. Some of my job always entailed buffering between him and the blokes doing the work here. We were off in a separate building specifically because these computer types were a different breed than those inhabiting New Scotland Yard.
I gathered up my material and took the lift down to the third-floor lecture hall.
Chapter 3
Rebecca
I made my way to the restroom with my purse. The bags under my eyes couldn’t be helped, but after a few minutes with my makeup, I decided the image in the mirror was work-worthy. Opening the larger of my bags in the office, I retrieved a set of heels one inch lower and a half size larger. My feet thanked me as I gathered up my purse with the fake necklace and took the elevator to the top floor.
Mr. Cornwall’s assistant, Emily, ushered me in as soon as I arrived.
Cornwall himself stood and checked his watch before rounding the desk to shake my hand. “Rebecca, isn’t it?” he asked.
His assistant had probably looked that up for him.
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He motioned me to one of the chairs facing his desk while he returned to his seat. “No disturbances, Emily.”
“Yes, sir.” She closed the door behind her.
Cornwall steepled his hands. “Is it as bad as Grinley said?”
I took out the box containing the necklace and opened it on his desk. “It’s worse, sir.”
“Accusing the duchess of substituting the stones is not going to go well,” he mused. “But I can’t very well let twenty million waltz out the door based on propriety.”
“Sir,” I ventured. “I don’t think you understand the issue.”
His brow creased. “Then perhaps you should enlighten me, Sommerset.” The shift to my last name didn’t portend well.
“It’s not just the gems, sir.”
He raised a hand to stop me and shook his head. “Nonsense. We’ve seen this a dozen times before. These members of the peerage are all alike. One finds herself in need of funds and sees selling off the stones as the easy way out.”
Emily opened the door after a single knock.
Cornwall looked over. “I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Sir, the duchess is here to see you.”
That simple sentence made his jaw drop. “Bloody hell. I’ll be just a minute.”
An older, well-dressed woman floated past Emily. “Joseph, are you trying to avoid me?”
Cornwall rose from his seat. “Never, your grace.”
She approached his desk.
I rose from my chair as Emily scooted out and closed the door.
“Your grace,” Cornwall started, “this is Ms. Sommerset, from our San Francisco office.” He made San Francisco sound like it was a sewer somewhere. “Miss Sommerset, her grace the Duchess of Lindsley.”
I did my best curtsy and repeated Cornwall’s greeting. “Your grace.”
She took the seat next to me. “I see you have the necklace here.” She pointed at the open box. “I told your man Smithers it had to have happened in the loo.” She looked at me. “I fainted for a second in the loo, and that’s when it had to have been pinched.”
I sat and nodded to her.
Cornwall didn’t look convinced. “We’re still assessing things.”
She wagged her finger at Cornwall. “Nonsense, Joseph. I sent it to Stafford to be cleaned two weeks ago. It was fine then, and we only picked it up from his shop the afternoon of the event.” She shifted to me again. “And when I took it off at the end of the evening, the scratch was gone.”
“What scratch?” Cornwall asked.
She leaned over and snatched the necklace from its case. “Here. The second ruby over. My mother scratched it with her diamond ring, by mistake, years ago.” She held the stone in question and pointed it at him and then me. “See? No scratch. This isn’t my necklace.”
Cornwall started, “As I said—”
She cut him off. “Don’t bloody put me off, Joseph. I know you’ve already been to Stafford’s shop. What did he say about it?”