The Cherbourg Jewels by Jenni Wiltz Read Free Book Online Page B

leaving your expensive car here?” she asked, glancing from side to side.  “This is a rough street.”
    “They wouldn’t dare to take anything that belongs to me.”
    She flashed him a doubtful look but kept her mouth shut. 
    Sébastien pulled her up to the front door and pounded on it.  It swung open under the pressure, revealing a dark lobby with threadbare chairs and a fraying chenille sofa.  He tightened his grip on Ella and stepped inside.  She closed the front door behind them. 
    The lobby smelled of cobwebs and cheap beer.  He glanced around, looking for someone to speak with, but every door was closed and every light switched off.  “Who are we looking for?” Ella asked, pointing at a mailbox bay with resident names printed in black capital letters.
    “DiMarco,” he said.
    Ella ran her finger down the list until she spotted him.  “2A,” she said.  “I don’t like the look of this.  Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
    No , he wanted to say.  But it’s too late to turn back now.   “Of course I know what I’m doing,” he snapped.  “Just stay quiet and listen carefully.” 
    They marched up the staircase, covered with frayed floral carpeting.  The wood creaked under their every footstep.  He made a mental note to question the property manager about the decaying furnishings.  What did he pay the man for if not to keep this place in top shape?  Letting it fall to pieces destroyed the property value as well as the credibility of the halfway house’s message. 
    With a tight grip on Ella’s arm, he stepped into the hallway and proceeded to door 2A.  “Mr. DiMarco,” he said, pounding on the door.  “This is Sébastien Cherbourg.” 
    Instantly, he heard shuffling inside at least three nearby rooms.  He continued pounding and calling for DiMarco until a pair of feet scuffed their way to the door and opened it slightly.  Sébastien glimpsed a tanned face, full cheeks and sleepy brown eyes.  “Mr. DiMarco, I’m— ”
    “I know who you are,” the man said.  “What do you want?”
    “I have a few questions to ask you regarding your . . . what shall we call it? . . . prior field of employment .  I’ll stand here in the hall and ask them as loudly as I can or you can open the door and—”
    DiMarco quickly opened the door and Sébastien hustled Ella inside.  DiMarco rubbed the sleep from his eyes and shut the door behind them.  “What do you want with me?”
    “I need a name,” he said. 
    “But I don’t know— ”
    Sébastien waved away the man’s protests.  “Listen,” he said.  “If someone wanted to sell a few million dollars worth of stolen jewelry, which fence would he use?”
    DiMarco’s eyes fell to the floor and shifted nervously from corner to corner.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled.
    They always lie the first time out , he thought.  Sébastien grabbed the man’s t-shirt and gripped it tightly.  “You do know,” he growled.  “And you’re going to tell me right now.”
    DiMarco’s brown eyes widened, pupils dilated with fear.  “Mr. Cherbourg, I swear I don’t do stuff like that anymore!  I don’t know anything about it!”
    “I beg to differ, Mr. DiMarco.  Now you can give me a name….the right name…or I can evict you for being behind on your rent.  It’s your choice.”
    The thief’s eyes widened with surprise.  “How did you know I was—”
    “Answer me!”  Sébastien shook the man lightly, just to demonstrate how serious he was. 
    DiMarco gulped and glanced at Ella.  Instantly, a raw wave of anger washed over him.  How dare he look at her? 
    Sébastien shook DiMarco harder, forcing the man to look back at him.  “Don’t look at her,” he growled.  “She can’t help you.  I can.  Tell me who I need to find.” 
    A thin sheen of perspiration had broken out over the man’s forehead.  He licked his lips and then spoke nervously, a quaver in his voice.  “Louie