Chapter 43

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Hi everyone, Alex here. We are getting closer and closer to the "grande finale"!  Do you like Calendar and her adventures? Cool. Did you know? There is a second book in the series available. "Brilliant Actors" takes Calendar into the movie business, where diamonds are forever, too. And intrigues run rampant! You can get "Brilliant Actors" at your favorite eTailers in ebook format. Should you like to prefer paper: on Amazon it is exclusively available in paperback format, too. But now: on with the story.


"MR. ALTWARD," JUANITA said, "We are now arresting you for the death of Wally Eastman." She read him his rights, again. "Do you want to call your lawyer now?" She spoke softly, as if not to break the chilling mood that had fallen over the room.

Altward rubbed his face again and shook his head, sobbing.

"Mr. Altward shook his head, indicating 'No,'" Juanita said for the recorder.

"What happened to Phoebe Eastman?" Ron continued.

"That is the hardest part to explain, because I only know one thing for certain," Altward said, looking pleadingly between us. "I know that it wasn't me who killed her."

Ron wasn't impressed in the least. "Let's do this step-by-step, Sir. You said that you took the Maximilian Jewels to her place."

"Yes, right after... the accident," Altward swallowed. "After I arranged the break-in, I closed the gallery. Then I thought about an alibi for myself. So I rode up to La Jolla and spent the rest of the night with Phoebe."

"Just to get the record right. You dined with Mr. Thomas Cornelius in the Gaslight Quarter, went over to your gallery to get something from the safe floor for a customer date the next morning, had the conflict that resulted in Mr. Eastman's death, then you called your partner Faulkner who arranged for the safe-hacker. The hacker arrived and did his thing, giving you a digital alibi. You grabbed the jewels and drove to see Phoebe Eastman in La Jolla."

"That is correct. The next morning was pretty hectic because my assistant called about the burglary and the dead Mr. Eastman. I had to leave early, of course, and couldn't talk to Phoebe. A terrible morning, I had to break the news to her of the death of her father and my conscience had to carry that load. One of her girlfriends came over to keep her company and I drove back to San Diego."

"And the Maximilian Jewels?"

"In the hectic events of the morning, I left the jewels in Phoebe's apartment."

"You simply forgot them?"

"Yes, all of them. They were in the side pocket of my jacket. Because of my hectic departure, I left the jacket on the hanger."

"The Maximilian Jewels were in a jacket on a hanger in Miss Eastman's apartment?" Ron probed and showed his disbelief.

"Yes, together with the Montenhaute pieces and the stuff for my customer that morning. While I spent the next two days at the gallery with your colleagues, Mr. Wynn and you, Phoebe and one of her girlfriends spent the day mourning and distracting themselves. They came across the jewels. Nothing to it, Phoebe sometimes lent herself some of my pieces; she could wear certain styles very well. Hell, sometimes I even encouraged it."

"When did you notice that they were missing?"

"The one piece?"

"No, when did you remember that you left the jewels at Phoebe's place?"

"Oh, right away. I left Phoebe's place around nine in the morning and I remembered on the drive to the gallery. It was like a mental check, my God, what if they search you and find the jewels that you will claim to have been stolen. But then I thought, 'good thing I left them with Phoebe.'"

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