The Diamond Caper Read Free Page A

introduce me to your friend.” She turned to Elena, smiling and extending a scarlet-tipped hand while giving Elena’s dress a swift, appraising examination. “What an unusual color,” she said. “How brave of you to wear it. Tell me—how did you two meet?”
    “It was in Los Angeles,” said Elena. “Francis had some business with a friend of mine.” She gave Reboul’s arm a proprietorial squeeze, and saw Coco’s smile falter. Round one to me, she thought.
    She was saved from further verbal fencing by Van Buren, who had made his way to the center of the courtyard, borrowed a spoon from a passing waiter, and was tapping the rim of his glass for silence.
    “OK, everyone. First, I want to thank you all for being here tonight.” He raised his glass to his guests. “I hope this house will see you come back often, and I thought you might like to see what you’d be coming back to. So I managed to persuade Coco, who put it all together, to give you a guided tour.” He raised his glass again, this time to her. “Over to you, Madame Architect.”
    Led by Coco, who gave a running commentary in both French and English, the guests were taken through the house, making appropriately complimentary noises as the various architectural triumphs and decorative touches were pointed out, with a charming mixture of pride and modesty, by Coco.
    Elena and Reboul brought up the rear, taking their time to appreciate what had been done. Elena, as she was about to acquire a property herself, was fascinated, taking photographs with her phone of everything from the old stone fireplaces to the sleek granite work surfaces of the kitchen, from lighting fixtures to shutters to the polished concrete of the floors. “She’s done a great job, Francis, don’t you think? The layout works, and the colors she’s chosen are just right.”
Click click click
went the phone as more photographs were taken. “I’m impressed.”
    Reboul nodded. “She has a good eye, and Tommy’s the perfect client. He has excellent taste and he’s happy to let her do what she wants. And he’s obviously delighted with the result. See him over there? He’s like a dog with two tails. Let’s go over and congratulate him.”
    They spent a pleasant ten minutes with Van Buren before Reboul saw Coco coming over to join them. He looked at his watch and, with a start, reminded Elena of their plans to meet friends for dinner in Cannes.
    On their way back to the car, Elena was frowning. “You didn’t tell me we had a dinner date.”
    “We don’t. You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t think I could have handled the rest of the evening dealing with Coco. She still makes me a little uncomfortable. I hope you understand.”
    Elena laughed. “Of course. She’s a piece of work. You know what? I wouldn’t be surprised if there was something going on between her and Tommy. Women sense these things.”
    Reboul was silent for a moment. Like him, Tommy was wealthy, and a bachelor. “Not this time, I’m afraid,” he said with a smile. “I’ve known Tommy for nearly forty years, and I can tell you he’s not a ladies’ man.”

Chapter 3

    The day after the party, Coco Dumas was taking a meeting in her apartment in the Hotel Le Negresco in Nice, a landmark since 1912 on the Promenade des Anglais. It had been built by Henri Negresco, a Romanian businessman who had spared no expense. Among many other decorative touches throughout the hotel, there is an astonishing Baccarat chandelier, with 16,309 crystals, that had been commissioned by Czar Nicholas II. Alas, the small matter of the October Revolution had prevented its delivery.
    Coco’s meeting took place on her terrace. Her business manager, Gregoire, was at her side, opposite James and Susie Osborne, a young English couple who had sold their Internet business for a great deal of money—“squillions,” as Susie said—and were now having fun spending it. Their current project was the renovation of a fine old