In Plain Sight

“Can I help you?” a short, balding man in a pinstriped suit said, coming in through a curtain that covered the back room. He wore a pleasant smile, but there were dark circles under his eyes. He wasn’t sleeping well.

“You the proprietor?” Alex asked.

“James Van der Waller,” the man said, sticking out his hand.

Alex shook his hand, noticing the tiny gold and silver filings that clung to the cuff of the man’s shirt.

“You do your own work here,” Alex said.

“We do, yes,” Van der Waller said.

“What’s wrong then? Most people like custom rings rather than that pre-pressed stuff.”

Van der Waller blushed a bit. “I’m afraid I’m a bit old-fashioned in my tastes. The things I like are just out of fashion,” he admitted. Then he seemed to remember himself. “I have hired Melissa Calomey, the famous designer. She’s created a whole new line of amazing pieces. I think it will do very well once we get started.”

“Well, since you’re polishing the settings, I’m guessing you’re waiting for the stones.”

Van der Waller looked shocked, but his smile returned quickly to his face.

“Yes, I ordered specially-cut stones for the settings, very good.”

“Are you making do with the stones you have?” Alex pointed at the display cases. “Is that why you’re so low on stock out here?”

“Who are you?” Van der Waller asked, irritation now plain on his face.

“I’m Alex Lockerby. I’m a consultant for the New York Police Department and I’m here to talk about the robbery.”

Van der Waller’s eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned, then fell face forward onto his immaculately clean carpet. Alex hadn’t been expecting that, and he just stood there looking at the unconscious jewelry store owner for a long moment.

“Come on, Mr. Van der Waller,” Alex said, rolling the man over and patting his face until his eyes fluttered open. He helped Van der Waller up and steadied him.

“I knew this would happen,” he said, his voice faint. “I told them.”

“Told who?” Alex pressed.

“My insurance company,” Van der Waller said. “They told me not to go to the police. Said they would catch the thief when he tried to fence the stones.”

That didn’t sound right. “They probably just wanted to stiff you,” Alex said. “If they drag your claim out long enough, you won’t be able to prove you had anything stolen.”

“But I reported the theft to them,” Van der Waller said, his face going even more pale.

“And if they lose the paperwork, it’s your word against theirs,” Alex said. He was sure Van der Waller’s panic was real. He’d found the robbery victim, but not the man who beat the truth out of Jerry Pemberton. That was starting to look like Van der Waller’s crooked insurance company. After all, if Van der Waller had the stones back, he wouldn’t be cannibalizing his own stock to make the new pieces.

“Oh dear God,” Van der Waller groaned. “What should I do?”

Alex put his hand on the little man’s shoulder to keep him from falling again.

“Don’t worry,” Alex said. “First, who is your insurance company?”

“Callahan Brothers Property,” he said. “And second?”

Alex pulled out his note pad and wrote Danny Pak’s name and the number to the homicide division.

“Call this detective and report the theft. Give him all the information you have.”

“But what about my insurance?” Van der Waller grabbed Alex’s coat, hanging on as if he needed an anchor. “What if they don’t pay? I’ll be ruined.”

“Don’t worry,” Alex said again, gently extracting himself from Van der Waller’s grip. “Once you report the theft, they’ll pay your claim or you can take them to court.”

Van der Waller sagged against the counter, pulling a handkerchief from his pocked to mop his brow.

“I can’t afford a lawyer,” he moaned. “Everything I had is tied up in those stones.” The man looked like he might faint again.

“I have to go see your insurance company anyway,” Alex said. “I’ll see what I can do to get them to pay your claim.”

“Thank you,” he said in a small voice. “If you do that, I’ll owe you.”

Alex chuckled. “You can thank me with something that isn’t selling,” he said. Van der Waller straightened up and looked Alex in the eye.

“I will not,” he declared. “I’ll make sure it’s something amazing, from my new line.” Van der Waller might not be the heartiest soul around but he had his pride.

“It’s a deal,” Alex said. “Now where can I find Callahan Brothers Property?”

Van der Waller went in the back, then emerged a moment later with a west side address written on a scrap of paper. Alex took the page and nodded, then Van der Waller stuck out his hand.

“Good luck.”

* * *