The 9th Judgment

SARAH OPENED THE door to the one-bedroom apartment she shared with her revolting, hair-trigger husband. She stood listening for a moment in the small foyer, and when she heard snoring, she stepped into the living room. "Terror" was slumped in his brown leather recliner, asleep in his wife beater and shorts, his plaid underwear not only showing but unsnapped and open.

She wrinkled her nose at the porn couple silently humping on the TV, then slipped past her husband and into the bedroom, where she closed the door and quietly threw the lock.

Only then did she feel that it was safe to draw a real breath. She jerked the curtains closed and flicked on the overhead light. Then she opened her duffel bag full of loot and spilled the bulging envelopes onto the bedspread.

Sarah's breathing was shallow and her eyes were bright as she unsnapped each little packet and liberated the contents. Diamond necklaces spilled out like streams of faceted ice. She touched each of the jewel-encrusted bracelets and brooches and pendants and rings with the tips of her fingers, stunned by her audacity and at the same time mesmerized by each splendid work of art.

Dorian Morley's taste was wonderful. The diamond necklaces were new but the packets of finely worked antiques seemed to be part of a personal collection. And so Sarah wondered if this treasure had been inherited or collected piece by piece by Dorian Morley herself.

And for the first time since she'd started stealing from the rich, Sarah knew that the woman who had owned these jewels was going to be grief-stricken when she discovered the loss.

This was not a good thought for a jewel thief, so she scrubbed it from her mind, reminding herself that the Morleys of this world had insurance and means, while she and Heidi had no fallback, no rescuers but themselves, and that each day they lived with their husbands was one of loathing and terrible risk.

Sarah returned the pieces to their packets and opened the bottom drawer of her dresser. She pushed the T-shirts and sweatpants aside, lifted the thin board of the false bottom, and deposited the tool bag.

Before she stowed the Morley jewels, Sarah had to see it one more time. She reached into the back right corner of the secret stash and felt for the little leather box shaped like a round-topped trunk.

The box fit perfectly in her closed hand. She opened the lid and stared at Casey Dowling's wonderful ring. It glittered under the light as if it were alive.

That yellow stone. Wow. It was magnificent.

Chapter 51

CONKLIN MUTTERED TO me as he parked the squad car in front of the Tudor-style mansion on Russian Hill.

"What a coincidence, huh? Hello Kitty does a job the same night the Lipstick Killer attacks Elaine Marone and her child."

"Rich, when my eyes flash open, you know? After three hours of sleep, I think it's all too much, that the Job is getting to me, that I should quit before it kills me. And then I ask myself what the hell I would do after that."

"When I get those thoughts, I think of opening a scuba shop in Martinique."

"Well, be nice to the Morleys. They can probably help you out with that."

Conklin stifled his laugh as the massive front door opened. Dorian Morley was tall, about forty, an attractive woman in a flowered tunic and black pants, her brown hair twisted up and pinned with a clip. She was also red-eyed and looked shaken. She invited us into the kitchen-a vast, well-lit space with sea-green glass counters and stainless-steel everything else. Her husband was sitting at the table with a mug of coffee in his large hand. He stood as she introduced us.

"I feel like an ass," Jim Morley said when we'd taken seats at the table. "The bedroom door was locked. That was weird. I said, 'Hello Killy? Is that youuuu?'" He made a gagging noise and shook his head. "Why is it you never think it could happen to you?"

Morley went on to say that he'd gone through the guest room and gotten into the bathroom that way.

"You saw the burglar?" I asked, hoping against disbelief.

"Nah, the lights were out in the bedroom," Morley said. "She pleaded with me, asked me to give her some privacy, and that's what convinced me it was a friend of ours, Laura Chenoweth. She and her husband, Jesse, are going through a rough patch, and I thought they were making up, you know, in private.

"Anyway, the newspapers keep referring to Hello Kitty as a man, right?"

I was reeling from this new information.

If Hello Kitty was a woman, it was our first real lead. A blind lead to be sure, but something!

"I just tossed the jewelry from the party on top of the dresser," Dorian Morley said. "I didn't even know we'd been robbed until I went to put my jewels in the safe."

She lowered her head into her hands and began to cry softly. Her husband said to us, "A lot of the jewelry belonged to Dorian's mom. Some of it was her grandmother's. What are the chances of getting it back?"