Family Jewels

54

Joan came into Stone’s office bearing an envelope. “This just arrived by messenger from Sotheby’s.”

Stone opened the envelope and found another. Inside that was an invitation printed on heavy cream paper:

The date and time were for three days hence. Stone had a sudden thought. He called Jamie Niven at Sotheby’s.

“Good afternoon, Stone. I trust you received your invitation to the private showing.”

“I did, thank you, and I am responding. I will attend with pleasure.”

“This is going to be a real do. Have you seen any of the publicity?”

“Everywhere and constantly. Jamie, you’re doing a great job.”

“Thank you. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Jamie, I assume that you have a computerized list of the people Sotheby’s does business with.”

“We have.”

“Would you search a name for me, please?”

“Of course.

“Daryl Barnes.” Stone spelled it for him.

Clicking of keys. “Yes, we do. He’s never bought anything, but he requested to be notified of important jewelry sales.”

“Do you have an address for Mr. Barnes?”

“We do. He resides at 740 Park Avenue.”

That stopped Stone in his tracks; that was the address of Carrie Fiske’s apartment. “Are you positive of that?”

“I am.”

“Would you be kind enough to dispatch an invitation to the private showing to Mr. Barnes?”

“If you wish it, of course.”

“Tell me, Jamie, what sort of security will you have for such an event?”

“We have four levels of security. This will be Level One, the highest, because of the allure of the Bloch-Bauer necklace,” he said. “It would only go higher if the President or the Pope were attending.”

“How many of them will be in some sort of uniform?”

“Only two, who will be stationed near the necklace. Everyone else will be in plainclothes.”

“May I make a suggestion?”

“Of course.”

“Put those two in plainclothes, too, and don’t use your largest men.”

“What did you have in mind, Stone?”

“An attempt to steal the necklace.”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Mr. Daryl Barnes may be the murderer of Carrie Fiske, and he is a lover of fine jewelry.”

Jamie made an odd sound. “Well, in that case, I think we’d better have a police presence, don’t you?”

“I do, but I don’t think it should be obvious. May I make those arrangements for you? The commissioner and I are old friends.”

“Thank you, yes.”

“And if you don’t mind, I won’t make the nature of that presence known to anyone else at Sotheby’s but you.”

“That’s a very odd suggestion. Why not?”

“Well, if I were a jewel thief, I would do my very best to suborn a well-placed person on your staff. Wouldn’t you?”

“While I resent the implication, I believe I would.”

“This means you must not tell a soul that the police will be there. This is black tie, right?”

“Right, and I will keep the police presence to myself.”

“I’ll arrange a meeting between Dino and his people and you, but not at Sotheby’s. They will want to see the layout of the viewing at that time.”

“All right, I’ll produce that on request.”

“And please hand-deliver Mr. Barnes’s invitation.”

“It will be there inside an hour.”

“Thank you, Jamie.” He hung up and called Dino.

“Bacchetti.”

“I think we may have had something of a break.”

“Tell me about it.”

Stone did.

“You’re guessing.”

“Guessing is all that is left to us, is it not?”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Then you’d better get some of your people over to the tuxedo rental place, and it would be a good idea to have as many female officers as males. We want elegant-looking couples, not a lot of apes in black tie standing around waiting for something terrible to happen. It might make Mr. Barnes nervous.”