“Like in the movies?” Theodosia asked.
“This Pink Panther gang isn’t quite as funny or lighthearted as it sounds,” Zimmer said. “Interpol gave them the name early on and I’m afraid that it’s stuck. Best we know, they’re a group of Serbs who are responsible for over five hundred million dollars’ worth of daring robberies in Dubai, Switzerland, France, Japan, Luxembourg, Spain, and Monaco. The members in the gang are all fluent in several languages and possess multiple passports.”
Drayton scratched his head. “That all sounds rather amazing.”
“There’s more,” Zimmer said. “The gang members that have been arrested have all managed to escape. One person actually escaped from a Monte Carlo prison while police officers fired machine guns at him. Poof—he was gone in a heartbeat. Another gang member masterminded a break from a prison in Lausanne, Switzerland, and took four other prisoners with him. And two others escaped from a Swiss prison in Orbe with the help of outside accomplices.” He lifted his shoulders in a resigned shrug. “Did I mention they were daring?”
“And they enjoy their life of crime,” Hurley said. “It’s made them rich. Rich beyond belief.”
“Your story is . . . fantastical,” Theodosia said. “And you were wrong, it does sound like a movie.”
“Except these Pink Panthers play for very high stakes,” Drayton said. He’d been seriously impressed with the derring-do of the gang. And maybe a little frightened, too.
“What we’re wondering now,” Zimmer said, “is if your Lionel Rinicker could be one of them. If he’s the leader of the gang that struck here on Sunday night.”
“That would make Rinicker one of the escapees?” Drayton asked. “Let me see, perhaps he hopped a tramp steamer in Marseille, landed in Charleston, and started up a new gang of jewel thieves?”
“Now, that does sound like a bad movie plot,” Theodosia said.
“We don’t know that any of this is related,” Zimmer said to Drayton. “The thieves at Heart’s Desire may very well have been a South American gang that we’ve also been trying to track. They’re a particularly nasty gang that’s been quietly terrorizing Miami. But we do need to have a sit-down meeting with your Mr. Rinicker.”
“Couldn’t you just check his fingerprints or something?” Drayton asked. “I mean, you must have fingerprints on those guys who escaped.”
Zimmer and Hurley exchanged glances. “We did,” Hurley said. “But not anymore.”
“Nice work there,” Theodosia said. “So what exactly are you telling us? What’s the takeaway here? That you’re hoping to nail Rinicker to the wall? A man who could easily be one hundred percent innocent? Or are you just going to wait around until this same murderous gang strikes somewhere else?” This time she threw a meaningful glance at Drayton.
The two FBI agents fell silent. Drayton fidgeted nervously.
“Okay,” Theodosia said. She knew it was time to grab the bull by the horns. “Now we have a story to tell you.” She glanced at Drayton. “Drayton? Please enlighten these two gentlemen about your Rare Antiquities Show.”
So Drayton gave the agents a quick rundown on the Heritage Society show that was scheduled to open this coming Saturday. He told them about the big-buck donors that would be in attendance, who was doing the catering, the Etruscan coins that would be on display, and then, as their eyes began to glaze over, he told them about the Fabergé egg.
That little nugget of information woke them up and rattled their cages in a huge and meaningful way.
“A genuine Fabergé egg?” Zimmer asked in disbelief. “You mean one that . . . one that . . . ?” He was sputtering now.
“A Fabergé egg that belonged to a Russian czar,” Drayton said. “Yes, that’s exactly what we’re talking about.”
“Creepers,” Hurley exclaimed. “We’re gonna need to bring in more agents.”
? ? ?
Once Zimmer and Hurley had left, Drayton remained preoccupied for the rest of the morning. He greeted customers amiably enough, brewed tea, and even managed to charm the usually crusty Mrs. Merriweather, who’d dropped by for morning tea and scones. But Theodosia could tell he was still awfully upset.
“I’m sick at heart,” Drayton confided to Theodosia when she stopped at the front counter to grab a pot of black currant tea. “I never in a million years thought something like this could happen. Lionel has been a good friend and now I’ve betrayed him. I may have even ruined his life—caused catastrophic consequences for him that can never be put right.”
“You did no such thing,” Theodosia told him.