Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Samuel walked out with a smile. He didn’t need the coffee or the sugar-loaded macaron. But he had to check every store in sight of Buccatino. After all, whoever carried out the job had reconnoitered the place for a while. The security footage emailed to him didn’t have any suspicious men loitering around the area. Only a whole bunch of tourists. A few people stood out, but that required further investigation. It had been quite some time since he was called to investigate a jewelry heist. Artwork, banks, and sculptures—those were more his thing. No one stole precious stones in this day and age. The Sancy, Dresden Green, and French Blue were all safely tucked away or set in expensive crowns and tiaras, which was why he was as surprised as his boss when they were informed of the heist.

Milan bustled with activity. Summer beat down on the streets. Sweaty people milled about, chatting and laughing. The tourists dressed in all their colorful, cotton prints and flipflops. The Italians dressed in a modern, understated fashion that impressed him. He loved the travel involved with the job. Of late, he’d become bored. Only the travel kept him interested.

He’d set out early, visiting every store on this street surrounding the Buccatino. At each store, he expected someone who’d be involved to take the bait and inquire who he was. Someone here had to be involved. But nobody did. Either Italians kept to themselves or kept their wits about them because no one was stupid enough to ask for details about who he was or why he was here, even in passing. That in itself was telling. Had they been prepped? Three shirts, one gelato, two cappuccinos, and a host of inquiries later, he was now left with the salted caramel macaron and a bitter cappuccino. His mind went to the beauty at the café.

The woman behind the counter had been flummoxed by him. He could tell by her blush. But then she went about her business without being too obtrusive, which he liked given his job as an insurance fraud investigator. He didn’t like the talkative nymphs that went gaga over him. She had a mild sugary scent about her and olive eyes that were edging on brown. Her thick black hair had been plaited and her cotton dress, barely grazing her knee, had been simple behind the starched apron, it’s once white material now faded to gray. How he wished he could see her without the obstruction of the glass display to glimpse the rest of her.

She spoke English fluently, which surprised him. She was one of those Italian beauties who were oblivious to the effect they had on the opposite sex. The first thing that caught his eye was the medallion she wore on a simple thread around her neck. It had weathered down to a tarnished silver and had an image he didn’t quite recognize. Must be some saint among the hundreds revered in Italy. With such beauty around him, he could easily forget he had a job to do. Well, all work and no play would make him a dull boy. Her dimpled smile tempted him, prompting him to indulge in mild banter he normally wouldn’t engage in, and she was in an equally playful mood.

In the main lobby of the diamond store, the Polizia recognized him at once.

“Monsignor Keane, how are you, my friend?”

“Angelo, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he said to the uniformed officer, barely contained in his uniform, his belt hidden somewhere under his belly. A local cop. He’d read Angelo’s file. He handled traffic accidents and investigated small time crimes, but a heist as big as this was clearly more than he could handle. “You see, the outside area is not suspect. The people inside are all accounted for. The staff is free if you’d like to meet them.”

Samuel took in the store, glittering with its lights and sparkling jewels in broad daylight.

“I take it it’s business as usual then?”

Angelo laughed, his belly vibrating with him. “You know how the owners are, trying to make it look as if nothing’s happened. That’s stupid no? But they say work must go on. They say if the Polizia can’t help, then you will. They say Samuel Keane will find the person.”

Unlike other people, Samuel didn’t need his ego to be massaged. He ignored the flattery and walked into the store. The glitterati of precious jewelry, all under sparkling, clear glass blinded him. He looked out the window as a tram crammed with tourists passed by. “Any idea how the job was done?”

Angelo nodded while pulling up his sagging pants. “No clues, just a theory. There’s a laundry next door. Their delivery van parked up front. No one from across the store knows who got in and got out. The security footage was a wash. Someone hacked in and put a recording on a loop. Three different combinations of passwords were used to open the store, alarms all dismantled. All the staff came in the morning, as usual, and the jewelry was on display. They go about opening the store and doing their work. They don’t suspect anything. Then by noon, the manager checks the inventory, which is the usual procedure for them. Then he opens the locked vault in the basement. Still fine. He opens a random box. Nothing there. Then he opens another. He opens each of the hundred boxes. All of the rings and polished stones are gone.”

“Why do they have all the stones housed here? It’s Milan for goodness sake.” Samuel rolled his eyes.

“You haven’t heard about the expo?”

Samuel nodded. He didn’t know a damn thing about Milan. But by the end of the day, he would. He was good at his job. Damn good.

“This year’s expo was going to feature some of Buccatino’s biggest diamonds. Now they’re gone, and the exhibit has gone with it.”

But what did that have to do with it? There were hundreds of jewelry stores in Milan, some more refined with their clientele. What was so special about Buccatino?

“Are you going to have that?” Angelo pointed to the untouched cappuccino and wilting macaron.

Samuel handed both over. The macaron disappeared in a few swallows. He left the policeman with his cappuccino and walked outside. The two CCTV cameras had captured nothing. All the shops were busy serving patrons, but he noticed the occasional glance in his direction. If only they were more observant that morning. But that had been the problem. None of them would be open so early. A heist in full view of the world. That was something because it spelled like a challenge. He had to admit it had been done skillfully. They’d pocketed roughly ten million and disappeared without a trace. Selling expensive jewelry on the Darknet today would bring in a fortune. And it would cost his insurance firm a pretty penny. It would take months to trace the jewelry if any of it had already made its way to the market.

He whipped around and looked at each of the staff. In haste, he asked Angelo, “Any of the staff missing?”

“I know what you’re thinking, but they all showed up for work today. Most of them have been working here for over two years. We already checked them out.”

Still, his mind screamed inside job, or at least someone with intimate details about this store. Now that he was here, he was going to find out. With this in his pocket, he could finally land that promotion. No more chasing greedy thieves all around the world, drinking tasteless coffee, and slaving over endless grunt work. This case had the potential to land him the title of Managing Director of Art Insurance. His last score.