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  The Ruby Trap – An Aidan Carver Short Story

  Scorpios and Sapphires

  An Aidan Carver Novel

  L.B. Simon

  SK

  Soaring Kite Publishing

  Toronto

  Copyright

  Scorpios and Sapphires

  A Soaring Kite Mystery

  Copyright 2017 by Ljubov Botor.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, the reproduction or utilization of any part of this publication in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, is forbidden without prior written consent of the publisher, Soaring Kite Publishing, 73105 – 2300 Lawrence Ave East, Toronto, Ontario, M1P 2R2.

  This is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First edition: 2017

  Cover illustration by Viktoria Simon

  Cover photo by Artur Kurjan

  Contents

  Copyright

  Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  The Novel

  Author's Note

  About the Author

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the loving memories of my mom and uncle N; miss you both!

  Acknowledgment

  I would like to thank Ann-Marie, Cecilia, Dima, Milena, Viki, and my family for their support and contribution to this story.

  I am eternally grateful for all your help; from cheering me on and not letting me give up, taking my work apart and pushing me to make it better, to transforming ideas and words into beautiful jewelry designs.

  The Novel

  Chapter 1

  He walked slowly into the mansion, his gaze roaming the antique decorations and the expensive paintings strewn across the walls. It almost felt like being in a museum. This was every thief’s dream house; plenty of treasures and flimsy security. He could feel the treacherous tingle in his fingers, his heartbeat picking up, all his senses going on high alert. A hundred ways to do the job flashed in his mind.

  He was back in his favorite city of all; Paris, where he had pulled off a considerable number of jobs when he was a professional thief, and this abode too was beckoning him to relieve it of some of its valuables. A few years back, he would have considered going through with it. Now he was on the straight and narrow; a reformed man. Or was he?

  He sighed and focused on the reason he was here today. Looking around, he found it interesting how none of the items in full display were stolen. There were what seemed to be original works by Van Gogh, Rembrandt, and Monet, as well as a sculpture by Camille Claudel. And these were just what he noticed at first glance in the foyer, the hallway on his left and the room on his right. Well, the Claudel lovers would be a challenge to steal, he had to admit, seeing how they were solid bronze and taller than his five feet and eleven inches, but still, it was doable. A smile twitched at the corner of his lips.

  He walked to the section of the domicile beyond the grand staircase, that curled up to the second floor, on both sides of the foyer. He continued past the statue, as directed by a young police officer in a crisp navy uniform, who had glanced briefly at his I.D.

  Where was he, and how did he land this job? Men like him were seldom allowed into places such as these, and they were never welcomed. Not even working for the insurance company could make him, Aidan Carver, worthy of high society’s company.

  Aidan felt the satisfaction of entering in broad daylight, under a legitimate guise, the residence of one of the richest French families, the cream-de-la-cream; the Belmonts. He had worked with museums and banks mostly, but this was his very first time in a private mansion inhabited by the privileged set. He kept on his poker face, though inside he wanted to laugh like a cartoon villain and rub his hands with glee.

  His gaze roamed the room, still fully decorated for last night’s grand event; a massive crystal chandelier was sparkling in the early morning’s sunlight, casting its light on the orchestra instruments that stood abandoned in one corner. Around the large space, rounded tables displayed proudly their vintage lace embroidered tablecloths and intricately detailed Louis XVI vases that overflowed with red roses, pink lilies, and white stocks.

  At one of the furthest tables, a group of people was gathered. Aidan made his way to them. A man, in his early fifties, attired in a sleek charcoal Armani suit, with thick black hair and frosty silver eyes, watched him approach. Aidan guessed that this was the man of the house; the famous Charles Belmont, a nobody until he married an heiress and cashed in on the jackpot.

  The man did not disappoint, distrust and open hostility radiated from him; and they had not even been introduced. Aidan suppressed a grin; he was going to enjoy working this case.

  The man was talking to Commandant Lachance, a detective from the Paris Police Prefecture, an old acquaintance of Aidan. He was a tall, lean man with salt and pepper hair, a mustache that was still on the darker side, and hawk-sharp hazel eyes. Aidan swore that Lachance never missed any details, no matter how minute they were. He had the utmost respect for the man, and they had worked together on numerous cases throughout the years. Lachance had even investigated him as the prime suspect when Aidan was set-up by a client.

  The two men stood, partially hiding a figure clad in red, seated at the table. Long ruby nails, matching the color of the dress, slowly traced the flower pattern on the tablecloth, intriguing Aidan immediately. He adjusted his course to get a clear view of the woman but regretted the move the instant her malachite eyes met his, and his breath caught in his throat.

  The young woman in her late-twenties was a vision. The room seemed to blur and darken for an instant, leaving Aidan with a feeling that the two of them were the only people in the room; the whole world. Her tastefully made-up oval face was open, friendly, honest; her full lips stretched into a smile, as she gazed back at him. Her slender hand pushed a stray, wavy auburn strand of hair from her prominent cheek. Aidan had seen many beautiful women, but he wasn’t sure that any could compare to the one in front of him.

  "Ah, mon ami!" Whispered a low voice behind Aidan, as a hand fell on his shoulder, bringing him back to the here and now. "This goddess is out of our league, my friend!" Aidan turned his head to see Endre Kárpáti, the insurance fraud investigator who had called Aidan in on this case.

  The man was in his late forties, leaning on the short side in height, suspicious as his work required of him to be, yet a good sport.

  "Comment vas-tu?" Aidan asked, smiling.

  "Not bad, not bad at all. Though I was supposed to be home in Budapest tonight, enjoying my mother’s goulash! But what can we do? When duty calls, you drop everything else. And how’s life treating you these days? Keeping on the straight and narrow, I hope!"

  "Sure thing, boss!" Aidan’s school boy grin lit up his face.

  "Just flew in from Canada?" Kárpáti inquired.

  "As a matter of fact, no, I was in Glasgow. Finished a job there this morning." Aidan shrugged not giving any more details.

  "Good! Then you will not be jet-lagged! I need you sharp and alert. Bonjour Lachance!" Kárpáti greeted his long-time acquaintance, having reached the table, and shook hands with the detective.

  "Bonjour!" Lachance nodded to Aidan before returning his attention to the rest of the group. "Monsieur Belmont, let me introduce to you Endre Kárpáti from Europa United Insurance and his assistant on this investigation, Aidan Carver."

  Belmont shook hands with K�
�rpáti, and then reluctantly did the same with Aidan.

  "It’s nice to meet you." Aidan couldn’t help himself, he had to poke the bear.

  "I am actually the assistant." Kárpáti clarified. "Carver is the expert here, to tell you the truth. He had helped us solve numerous robberies in the past. I am sure that we will have this case solved in no time too."

  "Aidan Carver?" Belmont mused in a heavily accented English.

  The man arched a suspicious eyebrow at Aidan while stretching to his full height, in an attempt to intimidate; then spun on the detective with an affronted expression on his face.

  "Are you serious?" Belmont challenged Lachance. "You bring a convicted art thief into my house?"

  "Rest assured I am completely reformed, Monsieur Belmont. I no longer steal from the rich, I only steal for them." Aidan’s Cheshire cat grin spread across his face.

  "Good to know… Lachance, I am not comfortable having this man in my house." Belmont eyeballed the detective. "Get rid of him!"

  "Aidan is the best specialist that we have. I guarantee that you have no reason to worry about your safety." Lachance placed his hand on Aidan’s shoulder in an open gesture of trust.

  "And how come a Paris located office employs specialists that don’t speak French? Get me an honest French man instead of this… thief…" Belmont spat the word as if he had something foul in his mouth.

  "There are enough honest French men working on your case, Monsieur Belmont. What we need is a not so honest man who has contacts and experience that others on the team don’t. And with Aidan’s skills and knowledge, no one cares about his linguistic abilities." Lachance stepped forward defensively.

  Feeling that the subject needed to be changed, and quickly, Kárpáti focused his attention on the young woman.

  "And who might this charming young lady be?"

  "If anything at all goes missing from my house, Lachance, I will hold you personally accountable! I am not impressed in the least by how you are running this investigation so far!" Belmont threw an angry glare at the detective, and Aidan had the impression that there was a shadow of hate between the two men. The patriarch tightened his jaw, then turned to the young woman, softening slightly. "This is my daughter, Mélisande Belmont."

  Chapter 2

  The young woman with the mesmerizing eyes rose and shook hands with Kárpáti, but as she was about to reach for Aidan’s hand, her father grasped her arm and held it to his side. He wasn’t going to let the thief touch his precious child.

  "Nice to meet you all! Would anyone like some coffee, tea, croissants, anything at all?" She asked in a melodious soft voice, her English perfect, though her vowels were a little too nasal.

  The men declined the offer politely. She freed herself from her father’s grip and push back the rebellious lock of hair, revealing a long drop diamond earring, made of pear shaped stones that seemed to fall like tears to her shoulder. She also wore a gold chain that hid inside the high neckline of her gown.

  "Shall we sit?" She gave Aidan an apologetic smile as she resumed her seat.

  The men followed her lead.

  "Last night was the annual Belmont reception." Lachance filled Kárpáti and Aidan in on the events. "There were about one hundred guests present, some of Europe’s finest families. This morning Monsieur Belmont discovered that the vault that he recently installed, had been broken into and that all the family heirloom jewelry, had vanished. This new vault was supposed to be high tech and theft-proofed as per Monsieur Belmont’s understanding."

  "Well, there is no such thing as theft-proof anything. If it is a new technology that is supposedly top-notch, then thieves will compete to see who will be first to crack it. Getting the latest innovation is equivalent to sending out an invitation to be robbed." Aidan leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Kárpáti nodded then began his inventory of missing items and routine questions. Meanwhile, Aidan’s attention was drawn to the father and daughter, who couldn’t be any more different if they were strangers; she was as ladylike and gentle as he was harsh and angry. She was medium tall while he was over six feet. She met Aidan’s gaze and held it. She was calm, not particularly worried about the robbery, which intrigued Aidan. And she seemed fascinated with him.

  Aidan groaned internally; daddy dearest made a huge mistake by setting Aidan as someone off limits, now the girl will fix her attentions on him. She was magnificent and magnetic, he couldn’t help his eyes from coming back to her again and again, there was just something about her that was irresistible. But he would never ever repeat the mistake of getting involved with a client. Aidan forced his attention back to the men and the case.

  "All right, I will notify the company of the stolen items and submit a report. You do understand that we will not be able to issue payment until the investigation is completed and that the results are satisfactory. Meaning there was no fraud or scam committed here." Kárpáti noted.

  "Of course!" Belmont barked, his color rising. "What an insult! You do understand?" He mimicked condescendingly Kárpáti’s tone. "Treating us as thieves, and using a criminal to investigate us… What is this world coming to?"

  Aidan, used to the rich dismissing him, in turn, ignored the man’s outburst, going on as if he hadn’t heard a word.

  "Nothing else was taken?" Aidan asked coolly. "From the main floor, for example? There are priceless items throughout the house, I assume all originals; have you made sure that everything is still here?"

  "We are doing the inventory as we speak, but I do not think anything else was taken," Mélisande answered before her father could respond, probably fearing that it will be another rude remark.

  "Where is the vault located?" Aidan examined the floor to ceiling windows and patio doors, that covered the entire back wall.

  "On the second floor." Belmont threw his daughter a warning scowl. "Away from the public areas."

  "Access to the upper floors?"

  "Through the main stairs in the foyer and the ones at the back of the house, but all were guarded through the whole night. So, it was definitely not how the thief got to the vault." Belmont boomed.

  "Well, unless the guard was in on it…" Belmont glared at Aidan for even daring to suggest such a thing. "The best robberies are pulled off with an inside man. Makes life so much easier, trust me." Aidan’s lips curled up into a smirk.

  "We vetted all the staff that we brought in… In fact, we ran all the names by your office, Commandant!" Not getting a rise out of the thief, Belmont turned his wrath on the detective.

  "It is not exactly true, there is one more access." Mélisande interrupted her father. "The old servant’s stairs, they were unguarded. The passage has not been used in decades, so hardly anyone knows about it. I had not thought of keeping it under surveillance."

  Chapter 3

  "The passage has been under lock and key. No one should have been able to use it." Belmont was obviously irritated by his daughter’s input.

  "And how many guards did you have last night?" Aidan went on, nodding his thanks to the young heiress.

  "Twenty in total. They rotated through the main floor and the gardens." Mélisande again took the lead on answering the questions.

  "Why the gardens?" Aidan made a mental note of the evident power struggle between the father and daughter.

  "The doors here open onto the backyard. It was just for good measure; in case someone needed assistance while outside." Mélisande clarified.

  "Do you have the guest and staff lists?" Lachance scrutinized the young woman.

  She nodded and raised her hand. A man a few years her senior appeared out of nowhere. Aidan noted to himself that the newcomer was more than good; it took considerable skill for someone to slip under Aidan’s radar, though he had to admit it, he was a bit distracted at the moment.

  "Mademoiselle," the tall man, in a starched, spotless uniform, handed her a folder.

  He was dark, brooding, cleanly shaven, hair impeccable; the perfect
butler. There was a hint of foreign blood in his skin, a caramel complexion that contrasted vividly with his striking blue eyes and the paleness of the other faces in the room.

  "There you go. That is everyone; the guests and their accompanying persons, full-time staff and the hired help for the evening." She handed Lachance the file.

  The detective nodded approvingly and thanked her.

  "What about help preparing for the event? Did you hire anyone?"

  "Non, Monsieur Carver, we used exclusively our own staff." Mélisande shook her head.

  "And they are being questioned as we speak along with security guards, servers, and musicians," Lachance informed Kárpáti and Aidan. "The security footage is being gathered and all the guests have been asked to share their photos of the evening as well as to schedule an appointment to give their statements. There was a professional photographer who has submitted his memory card, that too is being reviewed. Aidan, I will ask you to go through the images to see if anyone is familiar, once we are ready." Lachance added.

  "Of course; I was going to suggest that myself. Where are your security cameras?"

  "We have them at all entrances and throughout the grounds," Belmont replied smugly.

  "Have you noticed anything strange or out of the ordinary?" Aidan pushed.

  He knew all too well that Lachance and even Kárpáti had to tread carefully around this family. He, on the other hand, was free to ruffle all the feathers he wanted.

  "Non, everything was as usual." Mélisande turned to her father who confirmed, with a nod. "Samuel? Did you see anything?"

  "No, Mademoiselle, I neither saw nor heard anything that raised suspicion." The butler bowed his head.

  He seemed in his early thirties, about Aidan’s age, maybe a year or two older. His accent was much like the heiress’s but his th sounded more like a d.