sighed. “How the hell are you seeing that? Maybe they’re the same size—or maybe they’re not. They could be wearing different shoes, for all you know. The perspective’s so crazy there’s no way to know for sure.”
“I just don’t think they’re the same. I think the second group are copycats. Except that they kill.”
“What’s the likelihood of two sets of thieves with virtually identical MOs starting up at the same time?” Mike asked, exasperated.
“Why not? Some criminal opportunist sees what the first guys are getting away with and figures he’ll give it a shot himself. Only he doesn’t give a damn about human life.”
“Let’s watch them one more time, then start interviewing the first cops on the scene, and the staff and customers who were there,” Mike said. “Wally?”
“Yeah, yeah, one more time,” Wally said. “And I can do comparison ratios—tell you who was and wasn’t the same height.”
“Great. For now, freeze both of the shots I’m talking about, please,” Craig said. “Can you show them to us side by side, split screen?”
As Wally brought up the two shots, Craig heard Mike’s phone buzzing. Mike picked it up, and Craig watched his partner’s features tighten.
“On our way,” Mike said. “Wally, hold tight to that footage. Craig, looks like they’re at it again. We have a chance to catch them red-handed and learn the truth. Let’s go.”
Craig stood quickly, thanking Wally again, and the two men headed out to their car.
“Where’s it going down?” Craig demanded as they walked. “What’s going on? Did someone trigger an alarm this time?”
“No. No alarm. People are just getting more nervous and, thankfully, more vigilant. They’re watching for men in hoodies near jewelry stores. And the thieves are right in the Diamond District this time. Sonny Burke from Atlantis Gems just called in to say he saw three men in black hoodies heading down Forty-Seventh Street. That place is a smorgasbord for diamond thieves. Damn, they’re getting bold!”
“I’ll drive,” Craig said.
“I’m back, Craig. I’m good. Honestly. I’ve got it.”
“You drive like an old woman. Give me the keys.”
Mike didn’t argue. Craig was the better driver and Mike knew it. He tossed over the keys.
* * *
This will all be over soon. It will be fixed. Everything will be okay, Kieran told herself.
She had the diamond; she was appropriately dressed to shop in a jewelry store of the stature of Flawless. The store was in the Diamond District, up on Forty-Seventh, so she’d had a ways to go to get there. She would have chosen a cab with the diamond now in her keeping, but she’d been afraid of getting caught in traffic, so she’d headed for the subway.
She’d been lucky enough to get some traveling in when her father had been alive, but she’d spent the majority of her life in New York City, even attending NYU. She’d taken the subway system all her life.
Today she found herself looking suspiciously at everyone who boarded her subway car. She shifted and moved to a new spot at each stop. If she lost the diamond to a casual pickpocket, all her efforts to save her brother would be doomed. And with technology being what it was, she wasn’t certain that there still wasn’t some way to prove that he had taken it.
I’m not his keeper, she thought to herself.
But, in a way, she was. She’d been the one girl in the family. Her father had been a wonderful man, as proud of his daughter as he was of his sons—and quite ready to open a can of tuna for himself without help. But she had taken on a certain role in the house—different with Declan, of course, because he had her by two years. Like it not, she felt responsible for both her younger brothers, even though she was older than Kevin by a mere seven minutes and her baby brother by only a year.
She’d been “the girl.” Spoiled shamelessly, according to her brothers, but...
It seemed girls really did mature more quickly than boys, and continued doing so even as adults.
Nope. She couldn’t go by that. After all, Julie had helped develop the idiotic and dangerous scheme.
She arrived at her stop and made it to street level with absolutely no trouble—other than the usual rush of people. New Yorkers weren’t rude, despite their reputation, and most of the time they were actually quite pleasant and happy to help anyone who looked lost. There were just a lot of them, and it seemed that everyone was in a hurry to get where she was going. Several people said “excuse me” as they jostled past, and she said the same to several other people in turn.
Once she reached Forty-Seventh Street, she walked along until she saw her destination, Flawless.
She felt sad, remembering how excited they’d all been when Gary had gotten the job. He’d started working there soon after the wedding, just a little more than a year ago.
While the shop—like many others in the Diamond District—advertised Exceptional Quality for Exceptional Prices, it was a high-end and well-respected store. It had been in the Krakowsky family for four generations; landing a job there without being a Krakowsky was no easy feat.
But that was then, and this was now.
In truth, she was glad that she wasn’t going to run into Gary today, given her desire to bash him over the head with something. Julie’s words had been true. She hadn’t wanted to rush into marriage; Gary had. Julie was a video game designer and loved what she did, and she’d wanted to go further in her career. She’d been all set to head to grad school in California when Gary had begged her to marry him.
It was ironic.
She was glad that Gary had gotten this job after the wedding. He was friendly with his coworkers, and at that moment she was glad that she didn’t know any of them.
She heard the soft sound of the buzzer as she entered the store. The door, she knew, was connected wirelessly to a camera that counted and recorded every entrance and exit made at the store.
There was a large showroom filled with display cases. To her left the cases held diamonds set in yellow gold, to her right were cases with diamonds set in white gold and through an archway beyond there was a small display nook for gems of various sorts set in platinum. Beyond the counter—where some of the finest pieces were displayed—were the offices and the private rooms where salesmen sat down with important clients and served champagne while discussing the merits of the best stones. She knew all this because Gary had once described the setup for them.
She arrived just as one of the salesmen was drawing down the inside shutters that protected the window displays at night. He didn’t challenge her entrance, however, but smiled at her.
It wasn’t quite closing time; he was just getting ready.
“Good evening, miss,” he said to her, smiling again.
“I’m sorry—you’re closing,” she said.
“Mr. Krakowsky is in the platinum room with another customer—you’re fine,” he told her.
The salesmen here dressed in designer suits and were perfect gentlemen. This one was in his early forties, she thought, with dark brown hair neatly clipped and a clean-shaven face.
“What can I show you?” he asked her.
“Actually, I was looking for Gary Benton,” she said. “Is he working today? He’s a friend,” she added, almost choking on the word. “And that’s why I came—he speaks so highly of the store.”
“No, I’m sorry. At the moment it’s just me and Mr. Krakowsky. But I’ll happily show you whatever you’d like to see.”
He was still standing too far from the display