Page 67 of Guardian
I jerked my head toward the closed door. “So he’s part of the dodge?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re going to tell me everything,” I said. “Who else is in, when and how.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’ll tell youyourpart of it.”
“No. You tell meevery bloody step,” I retorted. “So I can go over it in my head.” She opened her mouth to protest, and my voice rose. “Damn it! I don’t trust you and I certainly don’t trustBilly. He’s a lout with a temper, and you willwantme to know the whole plan because if something goes wrong, he’s not going to keep a clear head! He’ll fly off the handle and kill more people than he needs to.” Her expression altered. “You’ve given me no choice, so I’m doing what you ask.” I spread my hands. “But I’mnotbloody following your men in blind, like a stray dog on a leash. For God’s sake, you wouldn’t, either! Billy’s reckless, and I don’t even know what other devil you’re throwing me in with. If we get caught, I want a plan to get us out.”
A flicker of acknowledgment crossed her face. “All right.”
I drew a long breath. “Now, why do you needmeso badly? Your cracksman can retrieve the necklace. And don’t tell me it’s because you don’t want to end up with worthless paste. I can teach anyone to tell the difference, if you give me a day. So could you.”
“I’m not nicking the necklace,” she said.
Had she changed her plan? I sat back in amazement, for I’d have sworn she’d have scrupulously planned every detail. “Then what the devil are you nicking?”
“Much less,” she said evenly. “Three stones out of it.”
“What? Why not take the necklace? It’s easier and nets you more. Simonson’ll look careless and lose custom, and there’s less risk to all of us.”
“Because stealing the necklace would make him look like a victim of a crime. People will sympathize and say, ‘Oh, it’s so terrible, London is full of thieves.’” Her eyes were flinty. “Replace them with paste and people will say he’s crooked. An unscrupulous jeweler. A fraud. A thief. Avillain.”
If he was caught substituting paste for real gems, no one would ever trust him again. His business would be ruined, he’d be jailed, and the villain and the victim would have changed places yet again.
This wasn’t a change of plans; this had been her scheme all along.
Maggie took out the picture of the necklace, unfolded it, and laid it on the desk between us. “How long will it take you to switch out three stones?”
I studied the picture for a moment, buying myself time. “Any in particular?”
“No.”
“These would be easiest,” I said, pointing. “Medium sized diamonds, round cut. It looks like they’re anchored by four or six prongs. Impossible to tell if it’s gold or something else—silver or platinum. There might be adhesive, but I’ve a solvent for that.” I set down the page. “Depending on the setting, changing out three stones would take forty or fifty minutes, I think, unless there’s something odd.”
“And if you have time to practice?”
“Quicker than that.” I studied her, considering the next logical step. “How would the replacement be discovered? Surely you don’t expect the marquess to detect the difference between real and paste, with the stones still in their settings, and only a few of the dozens replaced.” Even I needed to remove stones to examine them properly with a loupe.
“The marquess shall learn that the jeweler has been known to replace real stones with paste, and he’ll have it examined.”
“So the second jeweler will find the three false ones.”
“The story will break in the newspapers, and their reputation will be ruined.” She took a sip of her whiskey. “It’s simple, you see. That’s why it will work. You’ve only to do your part. You can trust my men to manage the rest.”
Men.That confirmed there would be at least one other besides Billy.
“And how will we get in?”
Maggie withdrew a second piece of paper from her pocket. It was her hand-drawn map of Hatton Garden, with the alleys now marked withXs. She pointed to one of them. “Through here.”
“But there’s a constable stationed at the entrance.”
“Stop worrying about the constables,” she said shortly. “There’s only one who will be in your way, and the world could do with less of them anyway.”
In our way and then dead. Because Billy couldn’t just knock the man unconscious or tie him up. There was the risk of him regaining consciousness faster than the time it took us to get in, open the safe, exchange the jewels, and get out.
“So Billy will kill him,” I said, “and drag the body out of sight. But what if another constable comes around and wonders where he’s gone?”
