Chapter 56

 

Penelope and Gracie sat at the desk of the officer who’d taken their story about the encounters with Frank Morrell, aka Richard Frank, their visits to his hotel, the chase through the streets and resulting injury to Gracie, this morning’s encounter and the oh-so-close chance to get her necklace back from the thief. The officer was very Swiss-polite and assured her they would look for the necklace, although he advised they could not promise a quick result. She felt her mood plummet, discouraged with police who dutifully took reports but never solved her problem.

“Our lead detective may have some useful information. When he is finished with his current interview—”

“I am finished,” said a new voice. A tall man with handsome touches of gray at his temples stood at the opening to the cube. “How may I help you?”

The first officer introduced him as Detective Manheim of the Kantonspolizei’s robbery division, then went on to recap what the ladies had reported.

“Ah, another jewel theft,” Manheim said, leaning against the wall somewhat gingerly. “I’m sorry to report they are happening everywhere. We suspect the notorious Golden Tiger theft ring, although now we are seeing what you would call copy-cat thieves as well. Last weekend two gunmen brazenly raided a very large jewelry show in Cannes, taking more than a hundred million dollars in diamonds.”

Pen’s astonishment must have shown on her face.

“While your loss is very sad, it is but one piece in a very large puzzle, I’m afraid,” Manheim said. “Please be assured we are working with the authorities in France and other countries to track and capture these criminals.”

The other officer spoke up. “Many of these thefts have happened in the south of France, you see. Interpol is already setting very tight security measures in place for the Cannes Film Festival next month.”

Detective Manheim read Penelope’s expression. “Yes, I know, that has nothing to do with your case. All we can say is that we are closely on the trail of these men and when we catch them, all efforts will be made to match the stolen gems with their original owners. Yours is only one of a half-dozen or so where the diamonds came from private owners or historical collections. One case—so sad—an elderly woman’s priceless diamond ring, given by her late husband before he died, was taken from her at gunpoint. We do not see these things in Switzerland. We are as shocked by the brazenness of it as anyone.”

Not exactly reassuring words, Pen wanted to say. She glanced at Gracie who appeared to be tiring quickly. Her poor friend had endured too much in the last twenty-four hours. She picked up her purse, signed the police report the officer had printed for her, and they left.

Outside, thick clouds had begun to form. The sky seemed to mirror their own discouragement.

“I don’t feel much hope about this,” Pen confided as they walked toward their hotel.

“I know. I still cannot figure out how Frank Morrell got away this morning.”

“The police found an air vent fastened with only one screw. It must have been his hiding place. But how he got out of the room itself … the man is like an eel, slipping away as if the walls can’t hold him.”

“I think what bothers me most is that the whole thing is so overwhelming. I’m not at all convinced Morrell is part of some international theft ring. Everything about him seems to say he’s a lot more local. He’s American—the rest of them operate in France. He scammed those people on Grand Cayman with an investment scheme.”

“So, even if the international police find and recover the stolen diamonds they’re looking for?”

“I don’t hold much hope mine will be with them. This chase got you injured, sweetie. The men have managed to stay leaps ahead of us and they’ve outsmarted the police in at least two countries. How can we handle this? It’s too much.”

They passed a pastry shop with an enticing window display of cakes and delicate cookies. Their footsteps slowed.

“We missed lunch,” Pen said. “Let’s see if we can get a sandwich or salad and top it with a nice dessert.”

Gracie didn’t argue. As they took seats, she pulled her silk scarf from her purse and Pen helped fashion it into the sling for her arm once more.

“Better,” Gracie said once her sore arm was elevated.

They ordered salads and felt their energy return. Gracie was first to steer the conversation back to the necklace.

“Knowledge is power, I’m always telling my kids. When they need information, I make them go look it up.”

“And …?”

“And we have dear Amber as our walking, talking encyclopedia, the queen of search engines, right? Maybe she’ll have some ideas for us. Don’t give up yet, Pen. Your grandfather’s work was important to him and to your whole family. I don’t want to see us quit until we’ve tried everything we can.”

Dessert was a gigantic piece of chocolate cake with frosting that melted in the mouth. Split in half, it was still more than the two of them could handle so they had their leftovers put into a take-out box.

“Okay, the meal helped a lot,” Gracie announced as they entered the quiet sanctuary of their hotel room. “I say we call Amber before it gets any later there. Maybe she can set up the call so it includes Sandy and we can all talk out a plan.”

Pen nodded, still feeling discouraged.

Bless her, Amber immediately got the discussion going. “Let’s see what we can learn about this jewel theft ring,” she suggested right away.

“Also, can you track the movements of Anton van der Went and/or Frank Morrell? If one or both of them are working with the big guys, we need to know. And if they aren’t, maybe there’s something we can do on our own.”

Sandy came on. “I’ve been thinking about what happened to Gracie, the attack when she cornered Morrell. We should take self-defense classes.”

“What? Right here and now?” Pen was half joking.

“Well … I suppose that wouldn’t be practical. Let’s keep it in mind though, for when you get home. I know someone who could instruct us.”

Amber turned the topic again. “I’ve found some articles about the big jewel thefts in Europe. I’m forwarding them to you guys. Read up and see if any ideas come to mind. Meanwhile, I’ll dig deeper.”

“For now, you both should rest,” Sandy said. “It’s been a stressful day for you.”

In so many ways.

Pen thought of the moment she’d almost had her hands on her missing necklace, the feel of it through the fabric money belt worn by Frank Morrell. If only she’d yanked the belt off him or at least insisted he disrobe right there. How could she have been taken in once again?

She lay in bed that night, a carousel of dark thoughts circling through her head. It frustrated her that there was nothing they could do until they either heard from the police or until Amber came back with new information.

For the first time since leaving home, she felt despair creep over her.