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several steps away when Jack said, “Backtrack. Act like you forgot something.”
    They doubled back, and Jack bumped into Bun Lady, who was only a few steps behind them. The impact with Jack’s shoulder sent her tottering across the sidewalk away from the bus into a cluster of students. Zoe’s hand clasped the bus handrail inside the open doors, and she hopped onto the bottom step of the stairwell, the only open space on the packed bus. She felt Jack push in behind her seconds before the doors closed behind him. The bus lumbered away, and Zoe’s gaze connected with the woman’s as she untangled herself from the students.

    ***

    Nigel came out of his office, grabbed a rolling chair from a nearby empty desk, and pulled it alongside Gemma’s desk. “That tip on the country home robberies come to anything?”
    She swiveled toward him, her golden eyebrows pinched together in a frown. “No. Terrance Croftly is so clean I’m surprised he doesn’t sparkle.”
    Nigel raised his eyebrows. “So you’re saying he’s a vampire?”
    Gemma laughed. “Pop culture point for you. No, he’s definitely human, an ordinary one, at that. “No record. Not even a hint of illegal activity. Doesn’t associate with any known criminals. Not even a parking ticket. Model citizen, by the looks of it. He trained under his uncle, the original owner of the store. Terrance bought him out last year.”
    “Hmm. And yet, there’s the tip about the cross.”
    “And yet.” She sighed. “I’m beginning to wonder if the informant just made it up.”
    “Hell of a thing to make up though—a medieval cross.”
    “I know,” Gemma agreed. “Why not just say it was diamonds or miscellaneous gems? A medieval cross is specific, which makes me think there’s something to it.” Nigel nodded in agreement.
    She waved a hand at the computer. “I’m checking some of his social media. He’s got a few accounts—Facebook, Twitter, Instagram—but I don’t see anything that I can pursue.”
    “Well, we can consider setting up a sting when you get back.”
    “Back?”
    “From Rome. If you want to go.” Nigel put a folder on her desk. “The Flawless Set has been stolen from an exhibit in Rome. Heard of it?”
    “Hasn’t everyone? It’s as famous as the Hope Diamond.”
    “Right. The anonymous owner, who happens to be a citizen of Great Britain, has requested Scotland Yard look into it. I figured you’re already working gems, I’d see if you wanted in on this one. If you don’t want it, I’ll send Davy.”
    “Are you kidding?” Gemma grabbed the folder. “It’s Rome. I’m going home to pack.”

Chapter Six

    Alessi stubbed out his cigarette in the crystal ashtray on the desk without looking away from the papers he gazed at, giving the impression that he was completely absorbed in them. He wasn’t interested in the papers at all. They were simply a few notes jotted during one of the recent interviews. Alessi was not a man to take notes. That was a duty for Bernando, who sat in the corner of the room with his tape recorder and notepad. No, Alessi didn’t care about the papers. He was interested in the young woman seated on the far side of the desk. Making her, or any witness, wait revealed several interesting things. Even with his focus on the desk, he had been aware of her careful, almost hesitant movements as she came in and took a seat. And now the quick rise and fall of her chest showed she was nervous. Of course, most people would find a Carabinieri interview intimidating.
    Without raising his head, he asked, “Name and position with Millbank and Proust?”
    “Amy Beck,” she whispered. “Assistant to Mr. Throckmorton.”
    He quickly ran through the rest of the details, her address in London, phone number, and the day she arrived in Rome. Her answers were almost inaudible.
    “Now, Signorina Beck,” he said, finally raising his head. “Why did you not point out the fake last night instead of this morning?”
    “What?”