twitching.
The commissioner glanced at the three of them. “All in all, the signorine were well behaved. I have to admit I was surprised. They didn’t complain about not having a change of clothes or any makeup.”
Women that beautiful didn’t need makeup, but Max said something quite different to the commissioner. “That’s because these sisters happen to be professional thieves.”
“They must be to have carried off the jewelry collection without being detected. Per your instructions I ordered the guards to take them to different floors for the night where they’ve been put in isolation.”
“Excellent. May I have the pendant please.”
“Of course.” The commissioner opened the drawer of his desk. The police had put it in a bag they used for forensic evidence. He handed it to Max who put it in the pocket of his jeans.
Now that he possessed all three, he would have them examined by Signore Rossi who would know immediately which one was the genuine article.
“If you’ll inform the guards we’re ready to begin our questioning of the prisoners.” Three foreign beauties, alike in some ways, different in others. Intelligent, unpredictable. And all of them…criminals.
The commissioner nodded and picked up his phone to summon them. No longer smiling, Max told his cousins he’d meet up with them in an hour before they returned to the villa. The balding guard beckoned him down a hallway and through a door that had to be unlocked.
“She’s in the middle cell of that corridor where there aren’t any other prisoners.”
“Did she tell you anything you felt could be important?”
“Only that her parents gave her the pendant she was wearing, thereby admitting that they must have stolen it. Of course she said it had been passed down from generation to generation in the Duchesse family. I told her there was no such family.”
“I see. Thank you for the information. I’ll knock when I’m ready to leave.”
“Bene.”
In the shadowy light, the first thing Max noticed were her sandals set out to dry. Next to them lay her skirt, her top, then her underwear. His eyes traveled over each item neatly placed in a row down to the individual twenty-dollar bills. Four of them to be exact.
He was intrigued by the way her mind worked. How orderly she was. There was something essentially feminine about the arrangement. Very prim and proper, yet oddly forlorn because it represented all her worldly possessions.
When his gaze discovered her body cocooned in aprison blanket and huddled against the cell wall on the narrow, insubstantial cot, he experienced a strange tightness in his chest.
But the possibility that she’d heard voices when the guard opened the outer door and she was only pretending to sleep, hardened his resolve to vet her.
“ Signorina? Come! Wake up!” He rapped on the bars.
She stirred and rolled toward him, still covered in the blanket. “Are you going to let me make my phone call now?” By the sound of her voice, she was still half-asleep.
“To whom?”
“Walter Carlson.”
“Who is he?”
“My father’s attorney.”
“Why not phone your father?”
“I can’t, he’s dead.”
Max blinked. His experience in the courtroom questioning hostile witnesses led him to believe she was telling the truth.
“Where does this attorney live?”
“In Kingston, New York. He’ll vouch for my sisters and me.”
“He’ll have to do a lot more than that, signorina. You’ve passed yourself off as a relative of the House of Parma-Bourbon, and you’re in possession of the stolen Duchesse pendant. All of which constitutes a major crime against the Duchy of Parma. I’m afraid you’re facing a stiff prison term.”
Greer had heard that distinctive male voice before. Her eyelids fluttered open. She sat up so fast, the blanket slipped to the floor.
In the semidarkness she could see the first mate’s powerful physique standing in the hall outside her cell. More, she could feel those eyes
The commissioner glanced at the three of them. “All in all, the signorine were well behaved. I have to admit I was surprised. They didn’t complain about not having a change of clothes or any makeup.”
Women that beautiful didn’t need makeup, but Max said something quite different to the commissioner. “That’s because these sisters happen to be professional thieves.”
“They must be to have carried off the jewelry collection without being detected. Per your instructions I ordered the guards to take them to different floors for the night where they’ve been put in isolation.”
“Excellent. May I have the pendant please.”
“Of course.” The commissioner opened the drawer of his desk. The police had put it in a bag they used for forensic evidence. He handed it to Max who put it in the pocket of his jeans.
Now that he possessed all three, he would have them examined by Signore Rossi who would know immediately which one was the genuine article.
“If you’ll inform the guards we’re ready to begin our questioning of the prisoners.” Three foreign beauties, alike in some ways, different in others. Intelligent, unpredictable. And all of them…criminals.
The commissioner nodded and picked up his phone to summon them. No longer smiling, Max told his cousins he’d meet up with them in an hour before they returned to the villa. The balding guard beckoned him down a hallway and through a door that had to be unlocked.
“She’s in the middle cell of that corridor where there aren’t any other prisoners.”
“Did she tell you anything you felt could be important?”
“Only that her parents gave her the pendant she was wearing, thereby admitting that they must have stolen it. Of course she said it had been passed down from generation to generation in the Duchesse family. I told her there was no such family.”
“I see. Thank you for the information. I’ll knock when I’m ready to leave.”
“Bene.”
In the shadowy light, the first thing Max noticed were her sandals set out to dry. Next to them lay her skirt, her top, then her underwear. His eyes traveled over each item neatly placed in a row down to the individual twenty-dollar bills. Four of them to be exact.
He was intrigued by the way her mind worked. How orderly she was. There was something essentially feminine about the arrangement. Very prim and proper, yet oddly forlorn because it represented all her worldly possessions.
When his gaze discovered her body cocooned in aprison blanket and huddled against the cell wall on the narrow, insubstantial cot, he experienced a strange tightness in his chest.
But the possibility that she’d heard voices when the guard opened the outer door and she was only pretending to sleep, hardened his resolve to vet her.
“ Signorina? Come! Wake up!” He rapped on the bars.
She stirred and rolled toward him, still covered in the blanket. “Are you going to let me make my phone call now?” By the sound of her voice, she was still half-asleep.
“To whom?”
“Walter Carlson.”
“Who is he?”
“My father’s attorney.”
“Why not phone your father?”
“I can’t, he’s dead.”
Max blinked. His experience in the courtroom questioning hostile witnesses led him to believe she was telling the truth.
“Where does this attorney live?”
“In Kingston, New York. He’ll vouch for my sisters and me.”
“He’ll have to do a lot more than that, signorina. You’ve passed yourself off as a relative of the House of Parma-Bourbon, and you’re in possession of the stolen Duchesse pendant. All of which constitutes a major crime against the Duchy of Parma. I’m afraid you’re facing a stiff prison term.”
Greer had heard that distinctive male voice before. Her eyelids fluttered open. She sat up so fast, the blanket slipped to the floor.
In the semidarkness she could see the first mate’s powerful physique standing in the hall outside her cell. More, she could feel those eyes
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