Dr. Sharkey was smiling expectantly. “Now I have to remind you that this is temporary. If you want me to complete the job and make you a permanent cap, I’d be more than happy to. The lab work will take a little time.”

“No,” Bobby said immediately. “Thank you, but no. We’re flying to Los Angeles, and I’ll see my dentist-”

“Didn’t you say your dentist was in New York?”

“He is,” Bobby insisted. “He is. We had plans to go to Los Angeles first.” Get me out of here, he thought. He yanked the bib off his chest. “Thank you, Dr. Sharkey.”

“Take a sample of this paste,” Sharkey instructed. “If it falls out, and I don’t think it will, just…”

If it falls off, I’ll consider myself lucky, Bobby thought desperately.

Sharkey opened the door to the waiting room. “Mother will take care of you.”

Anna jumped up from her rickety chair. One look at Bobby’s face, and she knew things weren’t good.

“He’s all set to go,” Dr. Sharkey said cordially, walking over to the reception desk.

“They’re paying cash,” Mother Sharkey announced.

Dr. Sharkey scribbled on a form and handed it to his mother. “We don’t accept cash!”

His mother nodded almost imperceptibly, having heard this joke at least a thousand times. “We have an emergency coming in. Don’t put away your special paste. It’s another broken tooth.”

“This is our day for emergencies!”

Anna quickly paid the bill and escorted a strangely silent Bobby out to the car. Before turning on the ignition, Anna turned to him. “Let’s see.”

With a crazed look in his eye, Bobby lifted his upper lip.

Anna tried to keep a straight face. “It’s okay-” she began.

“It’s not okay!” Bobby yelled. “It’s horrible. I look like Goofy. We’ve got to get a flight out tonight.”

“No!” Anna said. “You’ll be fine for the next few days. I have something very exciting to tell you.” She started the car. “We have one more job in Ireland that will make us very happy and”-she added with a laugh-“Jack Reilly very unhappy.”

“I want to go to Los Angeles,” Bobby insisted as they drove down the block.

“No, Bobby. Listen to me for a minute. They recently discovered priceless Claddagh rings…”

Inside the dental office, Dr. Sharkey poured himself a cup of tea from the shamrock-covered thermos.

“How’s Daddy?” he asked his mother who, surprisingly, was engrossed in a program offering tips on home decorating.

“I checked on him a little while ago. He’s fine.”

Upstairs in the living room, Seamus Sharkey was sitting near the window, unseen by people in the street. He passed his time reading detective novels and watching the clients who ventured in and out of his son’s dental practice. Ever since a walk-in client had bolted without paying six years ago, he made sure to write down the license plate numbers, makes, and models of every patient’s car. He also recorded his impressions of the patients themselves.

Too many dishonest folks in this world, he thought. You can never be too careful. During dinner he liked to hear about all the people Danny had treated that day. Danny told such funny stories about them. He couldn’t wait to hear about the two who had just left, but he didn’t think their story would be funny. It looked as if the guy had started yelling at the woman he was with as soon as they got in the car.

Seamus leaned forward. Another car had pulled into the driveway, and an older woman was being helped out of the backseat. It seemed odd that a casually dressed yet upscale-looking young couple would be driving around in such a beat-up old wreck. Once again Seamus picked up his notebook and pen from the table next to him.

They don’t need a security camera with me around, he thought proudly. Danny boy is so good to us, I wish I could be of more help to him. Who knows? he thought. Maybe one day, even if it’s after I’ve passed, these notes will be helpful.

Keith Waters had been at the office since early morning. He had slept fitfully, aggravated by the fact that Jane and John Doe were ruining Jack’s honeymoon. I’m going to do everything I can to track them down, he told himself.

The results of the inquiry into the credit card the couple had used at Hennessy Castle weren’t surprising. It was another case of stolen identity. The Does, armed with the social security number of one Earl Norton, had ordered a credit card in Norton’s name and had it sent to a P.O. box in Suffern, New York, last month. Suffern was less than an hour’s drive from New York City.

So they were in this vicinity not very long ago, Keith thought. But there’s no chance they’ll darken the doorstep of that post office again. They have probably cut the credit card in half by now. He sighed. Identity theft was becoming an epidemic, making it that much easier for people like the Does to keep on the move.

Keith looked over their file. Besides the event at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that Regan and Jack had attended last year, the Does had also left behind their calling cards after heists in Chicago, Miami, Birmingham, Dallas, Atlanta, London, and Sydney. I guess they’re not multilingual, Keith thought. It appears they’re only comfortable operating in English-speaking cities. Let’s hope for the Parisians’ sake that they don’t take up French.

Their modus operandi was always the same. They would attend expensive charity galas using false names, pay for the tickets with a fraudulent credit card, and then disappear like Cinderella after they had made their mark. And also like Cinderella, their appearance would change dramatically after the big ball. Jack and his team had worked hard to find a link between the stolen credit cards but had no luck. Keith continued to read the file.

The people who ran the events always remembered a lovely couple who melted into the crowd and then never took their places at dinner. The woman was variously described as blond, brunette, redheaded, or white-haired, but always around five feet six inches tall and always fashionably dressed. The man had blond hair, brown hair, or gray hair and was five feet ten. Sometimes they wore glasses, sometimes colored contact lenses. Sometimes, it seemed, they padded themselves to look heavier. They were always unfailingly polite. No one who welcomed them to the exclusive soirees would suspect that the couple gushing about how pleased they were to become active in another charity were a couple of brazen criminals.

Hennessy Castle, though quite unlike the other jobs, was their ninth known hit in seven years. Keith re-read the notes in the file. He and Jack both thought the Does were committing other crimes they were not taking credit for. There were so many cases of lost or stolen jewelry that remained unsolved-such as the recent theft at the charity gala held the week before Christmas at the Bridges Hotel in New York City. A woman had discovered her priceless diamond and ruby pin was missing when she and her husband were retrieving their coats at the end of the evening.

“I suppose it could have disappeared during the cocktail party. I just don’t know,” the woman had said, tearfully.

No calling card had been left, but it still may have been the Does’ handiwork. If they were in town for the holidays, they might have wanted to pull off a job to get themselves in the Christmas spirit. They might even have been staying at the Bridges. Security was often lax at some of the exclusive galas held at big hotels. If someone hadn’t bought a ticket for the event, it would be obvious that person didn’t belong there when it came time to be seated for the dinner. But anyone who dressed the part could slip in during the cocktail hour, have a drink and an hors d’oeuvre, and snatch a purse on his way out the door.

One man had made a career out of crashing parties in New York City, had even written a book about it. But he hadn’t been a jewel thief.