The Audrey Hepburn Heist by Mollie Bryan

Author:Mollie Bryan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mollie Bryan

* * *

I thought about that statement as I boarded the subway train to Brooklyn. I elbowed my way to a seat and sat next to a woman smelling of peppermint and cracking her chewing gum.

I had Stella’s address from the web—she wasn’t very careful about that. I planned to sit and watch her as she came back from questioning. Just watch her. I was in no shape to do anything else at this point and I was simply wanting to gather information on her. I wanted to know if the police questioning her would make her nervous, if she’d call any partners in, and if they were waiting for her at her place.

In the meantime, I pulled out my laptop and worked on the Hepburn book. I had a good hour ahead of me on the train.

Audrey had been offered the role of Anne Frank. She immediately turned it down. There were too many similarities in their lives and Audrey knew herself well enough to know she didn’t have the emotional fortitude to play a part such as Anne Frank. One of Audrey’s statements that I've been thinking a lot about lately is, “Whatever you’re heard about the Nazi’s, in reality, it was worse.”

The image of that Nazi flag emblazoned in my mind. The man who owned that flag had been in my apartment, in my computer, had been watching my every move. Why? Was it just to get his hands on the jewels Collette had given Audrey? Or was there some other reason?

And what did Stella have to do with it? As far as I knew, she’d not been in the apartment since Justine died.

Of course I didn’t know her before I’d called her. She may have been at the party and I didn’t know it. Was she? My mind strained to remember.

If she’d smudged the house when Justine wasn’t there, who knows what she saw? She may have known about the secret closet room.

The train finally reached my destination. I exited the car and made my way to Stella’s place. She lived in a brownstone that probably cost millions. A brownstone similar to the Breakfast at Tiffany’s brownstone. Across the street, there was a park. Perfect.

I took up residence on a bench and took in my surroundings, keeping a watchful eye on the brownstone.

My cell phone buzzed, and I read that it was Natalie, so I answered.

“Yes?”

“You’ve been invited to the private memorial service for Gemma.”

My heart leapt into my throat. “I don’t think—”

“Think about it. I think you should go. It would look very bad if the hostess of the party where she died didn’t show up for her service.”

Damn. She had a point.

“Okay, I’ll go.”

“Where are you? It sounds like you’re outside?”

“I’m sitting at a park.” Watching the home of the woman who may have stolen priceless jewels out of a secret closet in my apartment. A woman who smudged Justine's house.

But it was getting late and she still hadn’t showed. I’d have to leave soon, whether or not she showed up.

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