He counted out five twenty-dollar bills and pressed them into her palm.
“My wife will be so pleased,” he said, tucking the envelope and the brooch into his briefcase. Before he could snap it shut, Corinne let out a small gasp as the breeze caught one of the bills in her hand. It swirled into the road.
“Oh no,” she cried, trying to sound as helpless as possible.
“I’ll get it,” he told her, checking for oncoming traffic and then ducking into the street. While he stooped to pick up the bill, back turned, Corinne opened the briefcase and pulled the rest of the bills out of the envelope. She shoved them into her coat pocket and straightened right as he turned around.
“You’re too kind.” She summoned a few more tears for effect. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“It’s my pleasure, miss,” he said, beaming. “We’ve both had a run of good luck today.”
“No more luck for me, sir,” she said. “I’ll never place another bet in my life.”
Ada’s violin trilled, and the jeweler smiled blandly. Corinne knew the music was scattering his memories of the past few minutes. Ada couldn’t make him forget completely, but she could blur Corinne’s face in his mind and make the details of their conversation impossible to recall with any accuracy.
Corinne recognized her cue and bade the man a hurried farewell. She went the opposite way down the sidewalk, quickening her pace until she turned the corner, where she broke into a run. Hopefully Gabriel had enough sense to follow Ada to their rendezvous point. Corinne twisted and turned through the streets without slowing to check her direction. When she made it to the Central Burying Ground, she stayed across the road from the weathered gravestones, a safe distance from the iron fence encircling them. She knew that somewhere among those stones lay the bones of several of her more illustrious ancestors. She wondered what the stodgy old men would think about their descendant running cons a few blocks away from their final resting place.
Ada and Gabriel arrived before she even had a chance to catch her breath. The three of them took the path leading through the frostbitten grass and bare-branched trees of the Common.
“There’s at least four hundred here,” she told Ada, patting her coat pocket.
“His mistress is a lucky woman,” Ada said.
“Mistress? But didn’t you hear? He was going to the bank.” Corinne had regained enough breath to laugh. “That’s why he just happened to have an exorbitant amount of cash on him.”
Gabriel was looking between them, eyebrow raised slightly.
“I don’t suppose it’s even worth asking what just happened back there,” he said.
“Probably not,” Corinne agreed.
“You two seem to have everything under control.”
“We’ve been at this for years,” Ada said.
“Then you won’t be at all concerned about the beat cop who’s about to catch up with us.”
Both girls stopped and whirled. Corinne cursed. “Ada,” she said.
But Ada was already yanking her violin free from its case. She threw the case at Corinne and tucked the instrument beneath her chin. She had barely coaxed out a few notes before the policeman roared into earshot, shouting at them to stop. Ada kept playing, the sound barely carrying above his cries. He started to slow. The expression on his face grew lax. He was almost upon them now.
Ada closed her eyes and played on.
The policeman kept walking, brushing elbows with Corinne and Gabriel. He didn’t turn around. Ada played until he was out of sight, then with Corinne’s help repacked the violin. The three of them ducked down another path. They took the long way back to the club, slipping through side streets with eyes always cast backward, alert for followers.
There weren’t any patrons in the Cast Iron this early in the day, and Danny was busying himself polishing glasses.
“Little early to be raising hell, isn’t it?” he said by way of greeting.
“Some of us work for a living,” Corinne said, and ducked the rag he threw at her.
Danny retrieved another cloth from under the bar and cast Gabriel a glance.
“Don’t let these two scare you off,” Danny said. “Johnny never lets them torture the regs for long.”
“I resent that,” said Corinne.
“Don’t care,” said Danny.
“I resent it too,” said Ada.
“In that case, I’m sorry to have offended,” said Danny.
Corinne made a face at Ada, who smiled innocently.
“If you have any questions, you can ask me,” Danny said to Gabriel. “We regs have to stick together.”
“Too late,” Corinne said. “I already warned him that you don’t have two pennies’ worth of brains to rub together.”
“Next thing I throw at you won’t be a dishrag,” Danny said mildly.
“See you later, Danny,” Ada said, giving Corinne a nudge.