Alex Ames - Calendar Moonstone 01 - A Brilliant Plan by Alex Ames Read Free Book Online Page A

anything for the poor night watchman, so I went back to the safe in the back-office, checked my clothes and shoes for accidental blood and continued with my part of the heist. I quickly browsed the contents of the back-office safe and selected the items my informant had pointed out to me. A quick look into the three velvet pouches showed the stones I was looking for. Close back-office safe, pack things up, shaken and weak kneed, exit burglar number two into the good night. Not tempted at all by the immense plunder that would have been available to me.
    Twenty hours ago. Now, I felt very tired, standing with Ron in the exact same gallery.  
    What made me wonder was the fact that at the time I found the dead body, the control box near the back-office safe door had not been touched. No dangling wires and no open electronics. Whoever opened the safe did it from the other side. And then later, ransacked the back-office panel for reasons unknown. Of course, I couldn’t share this piece of information with Ron. This was going to be complicated, layered lies and assumptions.
    “Who found him?” I asked.
    “The security company placed a routine call around three a.m. No one answered, so they sent out a patrol to check on things. They found him.”
    “So the doors of the safe were left open,” I stated.
    “Yes, the alarm was cleverly rigged so it would appear closed and armed to the security company’s online system. Heavy tampering.”
    Ron and I stood in the back-office room and looked into the safe that hadn’t been. He suddenly let out a hearty yawn. I wanted to join him but thought better.  
    “Sorry, up since four a.m.,” he explained.
    “What now?” I asked, unsure of my official role in this charade.
    “As an honorary SDPD super detective, I should be rousing up suspects now, but to tell the truth, I am too tired to think.” He rubbed his beard stubbles. “First thing tomorrow is a date with the gallery owner, Andrew Altward. He promised pictures of the stolen goods and descriptions. Plus we can feel out for the possibility that he broke into his own safe.”
    We walked back through the showroom and Ron gave some instructions to the policeman standing guard in the back-office. Then we walked downstairs.
    “I can pick you up around eight thirty.” It wasn’t a real question so I gave an enthusiastic puppy nod in agreement.
    Ron opened the door that led out into Market Street and held it open gallantly to let me out. I made a small curtsey, which drew a smile from his very kissable lips and I ran straight into my next worst nightmare.

Chapter 7

    THE POLICEMAN IN front of the store was in an argument with the gentleman I bumped into. We bounced into each other, did double steps to regain our balance and simply stared at each other, both trying to think of the right thing to say. The policeman grabbed the arm of the man and Ron grabbed mine to steady me. I did not have much time to think about whether I was allowed to recognize the man I had bumped into or pretend that I didn’t. He made the decision for me.  
    “Calendar, what a pleasure to see you here.” I wasn’t sure whether he meant it as a threat or a greeting. Thomas Cornelius III gave me a quick series of European air-kisses on the left and right cheeks, something he had picked up in Swiss boarding school. I bravely pecked back under Ron’s suspicious looks.  
    “Thomas, so good to see you.” I said, “Unfortunately, the gallery is closed for business today due to a crime.”
    Cornelius gave us his widest American toothpaste-advertising smile to morph into the apologetic mouth that acknowledged the tragedy. “I have heard, of course. That is why I am here. But this gentleman,” he pointed toward the policeman, “would not let me through.”  
    He wore a black suit over a black turtleneck, Armani. His blue eyes could be charming one minute and cool the other. His gray, carefully groomed short hair, together with his healthy tan, gave him