The elevator dinged and they stepped out into a wide hallway, silent as a tomb in the dead of night. No insomniacs on this floor. Elaine York had the end apartment.

Paulie unlocked the door. “I got the keys from the super while I was waiting. He went back to bed, no show of curiosity at all—a real New Yorker.”

She edged into the dark apartment, and the smell hit her in the face—the heavy, dead air, the beginnings of rot. Her hand went to her Glock.

“Step back, Paulie. We got trouble.”

8

British Airways Flight 117

Over the Atlantic Ocean

Thursday, 9:00 a.m.

Nicholas stared at his uncle. “Stolen? The Koh-i-Noor? I can’t believe it. That bloody stone is impossible to steal. And your security has to be unbeatable. So what happened?”

Bo shook his head. “I thought stealing the diamond would be impossible, too, but the fact is it’s gone. It’s been replaced with one of the two cubic zirconia replicas the palace allowed made some ten years ago. The good thing is we’re pretty sure we know when it was stolen—yesterday we had a power outage. All computers, all video feeds, all communications, everything was offline for five whole minutes, then just as suddenly it came back on. There was a thorough check of every treasure in the Met, and I personally checked the Jewel of the Lion exhibit room, but the crown jewels looked untouched. Everything was where it was supposed to be throughout the museum, so we chalked it up to a glitch somewhere in the system, nothing nefarious.

“Then the curator of the Jewel of the Lion exhibit, Dr. Browning, received a call from Arizona, a man named Peter Grisley, who owns the two cubic zirconia replicas of the Koh-i-Noor. The replicas had been stolen. Dr. Browning came to me right away, quietly, worried something was wrong. It was her idea to test the diamond, and sure enough, the tester showed the Koh-i-Noor to be a fake.

“Talk about a hit to the chops. We’re doing all we can, but to have this happen on American soil, during a once-in-a-lifetime exhibit? It’s more than a disaster. It might start another Revolutionary War.”

Not an understatement.

“Uncle Bo, worse than a war, the world media will crucify the U.S. Of course you know that no one on the outside could have done this. Have you pinned down possible staff not accounted for during the power outage?”

“First thing we did. They were all accounted for. There aren’t that many involved—only designated museum staff and the insurance people have access to the exhibit space where all the crown jewels are displayed. In addition, you know we vetted everyone and their pets three ways to Sunday, over and above the designated staff.” He paused, then said quietly, his voice heavy, “There was only one person we couldn’t account for during the power outage: Inspector Elaine York. And now she’s dead.”

Nicholas spoke carefully, seeing now where his uncle was headed. “Perhaps the diamond wasn’t stolen from the museum at all. Perhaps it was taken before it left England, or maybe during transit.”

“I wish. Dr. Browning and Inspector York and the indemnity insurance expert tested the Koh-i-Noor when it arrived at the museum. It was definitely stolen post–arrival at the Met.”

Savich said, “Whoever managed to switch out the diamond was very good and very fast. There is simply no sign of a break-in, no sign that anyone was even in the exhibit room, which means it was meant to go unnoticed. And it very nearly did, if not for the call to Dr. Browning from Peter Grisley reporting his missing replicas, one of which now sits proudly in the center of the queen mother’s crown.”

Nicholas asked, “Is it possible the power outage was for real and the switch was made at another time and not during the five-minute period?”

Bo said, “I can’t imagine how, Nick.”

“You all know how sophisticated the security is on the crown jewels in the Tower of London, the beefeaters are all ex-military and tough as nuts, so there’s no chance to steal the diamond there.”

“My security is like a police force, too. They’re all armed, and we’ve upgraded our measures even further since the jewels arrived on-site. We’re a well-oiled machine. I know these people, Nick, and I’m sure as I can be that no one on my security staff could have anything to do with this. But regardless, we’re checking again, going even deeper, if that’s possible, eliminating my people first, then their lovers and friends, and the remaining museum staff, any- and everyone we can think of to look at. Everyone. But bottom line—this was a master thief.”

Nicholas said, “Tell me about your security, Uncle Bo.”

It was Savich who said, “I consulted with Bo’s team on the installation of the biometric security systems. You need a palm print and two different pass cards to even access the exhibit room, and the cases have a rotating binary lock.”

Sherlock said, “Add in the incredible physical security, the fact no one was out of place during the power outage, and no one Bo knows of could do this, and the theft and switch seems, well, if not impossible, then almost magical. But—”

Bo nodded. “Yes, but— Look, Nick, I don’t know if Inspector York had the expertise to pull this theft off, but she’s the only one of the primaries not accounted for.”

“I knew Inspector York very well,” Nicholas said, “her strengths, weaknesses, her talents. As far as I know, she doesn’t have the necessary skills.”

Savich said, “Nicholas, how much would you have to know to pull this off? She knew the setup, knew the diamond, certainly could figure out what tools she would need to make the switch.”

Nicholas was shaking his head as he said, “So she also flew to Arizona and stole the two replicas? Have you checked the airlines, Uncle Bo?”

“Yes. Elaine hasn’t left New York City, at least by commercial airline.”

Sherlock said, “She either flew to Arizona under the radar and we haven’t found out how yet, or she had someone to help her, inside the Met. Sorry, Nicholas, but I can’t see it coming down any other way. But the big question in my mind is why Inspector York was killed. A falling-out among thieves? What else could it be? You say you knew her very well. You say she couldn’t do this. How certain are you?”

“I doubt Elaine could bring herself to shoplift from Harrods on a bet. You know I wouldn’t have had her on my staff if she weren’t top-notch. She was there to mind the Koh-i-Noor, to make sure nothing happened, to protect the diamond, not to steal it. The idea is simply ridiculous.” Nicholas paused for a moment, then said flatly, “I trusted her with my life.”

No one said anything to that.

Nicholas said, “Maybe Elaine was murdered because she found out something about the theft.”

“Then she should have come to me immediately,” Bo said. “If she wasn’t involved in the theft, and she discovered something? Nick, think about it. She never came to me.”

Nicholas hated it, simply hated it, but still the arguments were solid. How could he convince them Elaine hadn’t been part of it? He looked closely at his uncle and thought Bo suddenly looked old and tired. All of them knew he would be the scapegoat, no matter who was responsible. Even if the diamond was found unharmed, Bo’s security firm would go down in history as the one who let the Koh-i-Noor slip away in the first place. Elaine and his uncle, both their names would be ruined.

Bo said, “Understand me, Nick, I don’t like throwing accusations at dead people. But there’s another thing. Yesterday morning, fifteen minutes after the electricity came back on, Elaine came to my office to tell me she was going home sick. It was a very out-of-character move for her.”

He could only try. Nicholas said, “Uncle Bo, there has to be a different scenario we haven’t thought of, with different players.”