Gentlemen Prefer Nerds (2 page)

Maddie let herself into her apartment that evening to discover that her father had broken in and was helping himself to a tumbler of her best red wine.

“Is it too much to ask that you keep a better quality of wine in stock?” Al complained mildly, holding the ruby red Shiraz up to the light. Short and rotund, he looked rather like a dandified leprechaun in his green overcoat, bright red pullover and white silk scarf. On his feet were black sneakers—all the better to break and enter, apparently—although that was the kind of tidbit Maddie shunned as too much information.

“I’ll have you know I paid fifteen dollars for that.” Maddie dropped her oversize handbag on the kitchen counter with a thump. She was still feeling unsettled, and the last thing she needed was to bandy words with her irrepressible father. “Can’t you call before you come over, like anyone else? Knock and wait to be let in instead of picking my lock?”

“But I’m not anyone else, am I, darlin’? I’m your dear old dad.” Al grinned like a cheeky boy despite the silver threaded through his curly black hair.

Maddie shook her head with a mixture of exasperation and love and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s funny how a case of fine wine never falls off the truck.”

“Oh, it does, Maddie, me girl, but it never makes it farther than my house.” He spoke in the faint Irish brogue he affected when he wanted to charm. It never troubled Al that his family had been in Australia for four generations. As far as he was concerned, tinker’s blood ran deep and true no matter where the Maloneys might roam. “I brought you a present.”

“I wish you hadn’t. I told you, I don’t want any ‘presents.’” Jinx was winding around her legs, mewing for dinner. Maddie picked up the cat and stroked her, eliciting a rumbling purr. She was sometimes tempted by what Al brought her—he stole only quality artwork and antiques—but as a child she’d promised her mother never to follow her father in his life of crime. So far she’d resisted, never so much as filching a grape from the fruit display at the grocer. “I don’t want to be part of anything illegal.”

“Save your stuffy ways for Miss La-di-dah Grace Abercrombie. Come and have a peek.” Al topped up his glass and pulled Maddie into the living room.

The wintry afternoon light filtering through the blinds shone on dusty-leaved potted palms and bookshelves bulging with mineralogical reference books and spy novels. A faded Persian rug served as the centerpiece for an overstuffed loveseat and mismatched armchairs. A glass-fronted cabinet intended to display china instead showcased Maddie’s collection of semi-precious stones and unusual minerals.

A rolled-up canvas sat atop the wood coffee table.

“It’s the original Jim Holdaway artwork for a first edition of
Cobra Trap.
” Al unfurled the canvas. “Nothing’s too good for my Maddie.”

“Oh my God.” Cover art for her favorite Modesty Blaise novel. Maddie circled her father and the painting, fighting an urgent desire to accept her father’s offering, just this once. But alongside her promise to her mother and an abiding belief in the rule of law, she had a niggling fear that her father’s blood flowed in her veins. She never wanted to test that theory. “Take it away. Please. Now.”

“Notice the brushstrokes. It’s in remarkable condition despite being over fifty years old.”

“Where did you get it? No, don’t tell me. The less I know the better.” Her fingers tightened in Jinx’s plush black fur, prompting an indignant trill.

Al held the canvas up against the wall between the rock cabinet and a bookshelf. “It would look good here, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t. Put it in your bag and take it back where it came from.”

“Now how can I return it when the owner don’t even know I’ve got it?” Al argued reasonably. “It’s in your possession now, darlin’. Nine-tenths and all that. You might as well enjoy it.”

“I can’t enjoy stolen goods.” Maddie’s clenching fingers had Jinx leaping out of her arms onto the coffee table.

“You need to relax, that’s your whole problem.” Al shooed the cat away and spread out the canvas on the low table, weighting it down at the corners with a couple of pieces of basalt. “Dark green matting and a narrow brass frame. What do you think?”

“I’m sorry, Dad, but I’m very tired.” Maddie pressed her fingers to her temples. “It’s been a big week.”

“Ah yes, the glorious Rose diamond. I’ll be at the jewelry shop for the grand unveiling on Friday.” Al straightened away from the painting and gave Maddie a sly glance. “Unless you’d like to give me a special tour, seeing as how I’m your father.”

“You’ll see it when it’s safely locked in the display case and not a moment before. I’m surprised you even want to come, you’re so antagonistic toward Grace.”

“It’s her what’s got a problem, not me. If she hadn’t been after Faith to hang around with their old crowd, your mother might be with us today.”

“Grace has been good to me. It wasn’t her fault Mum died.” Maddie fell silent. It was useless telling that to Al when Grace had introduced her mother to the man whose yacht Faith had fallen off and drowned…

“We won’t be going into that again.” Al picked up his wineglass and swirled it, his gaze on the ruby liquor. “Does she ever talk about me?”

“Grace? Never in complimentary terms.”

With an indignant grunt Al finished his wine in one long gulp. “I’d better get going—” He broke off, feeling in his back pocket. “I almost forgot. I found this slipped beneath your door when I got here.” He handed her an envelope.

There was no stamp or address on the plain white envelope. It was lightly sealed, with her name written on it in bold italics in an elegant masculine hand she didn’t recognize. A prickling sensation ran across her skin. Maddie ripped open the envelope and unfolded a single sheet of notepaper to read the brief message.

0491 570 158. Fabian.

“Who is he—a boyfriend?” Al asked, reading over her shoulder.

“I don’t know anyone called Fabian.” Suddenly she was aware of her heart beating. Instinct told her it was the mysterious man from this afternoon. How did he know where she lived? She supposed she ought to be grateful he’d slipped it under the door instead of breaking in and leaving it on her pillow. With a shudder, she crumpled the paper then marched to the kitchen and threw it into the rubbish bin.

“Fabian’s an unusual name around these parts.” Following her, Al fished the note from the garbage and smoothed it out.

“He’s English,” Maddie said before she caught herself.

“Oh, so you do know him.” Al studied the missive as if looking for clues. “It’s a cell phone number.”

Maddie gave in to the inevitable. “A stranger came into the shop today and warned me about a jewel thief. Have you ever heard of anyone called the Chameleon?”

“Can’t say as I have. Are you going to call this fella and find out what he wants?”

“No way,” Maddie said. “He’s dangerous.”

“Then stay away from him, darlin’.” Al hugged her, resting his scratchy jowl against her cheek. “I’m glad and relieved you lead a nice, safe, normal life. I don’t like to worry about you.”

“Thanks. I don’t like to worry about me, either.” Maddie blinked. A nice, safe life. How pathetic. No, how wonderful. What sane person courted danger? Al’s choice of occupation meant he’d raised her not to draw attention to herself. She’d learned at an early age to fly under the radar so trouble wouldn’t find her.

Trouble in the form of cops, that is.

“Now if you were to join a nunnery I’d never lose a moment’s sleep—” Al broke off, turning pale.

“What is it?” Frowning, Maddie stepped closer. “Are you sick?”

“Just a little dizzy. I get that sometimes.” He walked unsteadily over to a chair and sat down heavily. “My chest…tight.”

“Dad!” Maddie’s stomach hollowed as she felt his forehead. It was cold and clammy. “Are you having a heart attack? We need to call an ambulance.”

“No, don’t do that.” Al leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, breathing deeply. “Give me a minute. It’s just a flutter. I’ll be fine.”

She kneeled at his side, loosening his collar. “Has this happened before?”

“Once or twice.” He mopped his forehead with his sleeve and took a few more deep breaths. His color had returned to normal and he’d recovered his natural insouciance enough to tweak her under the chin. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m fit as a fiddle.”

“How can I not worry? You’re not as young as you used to be, and your blood pressure is too high.” Maddie put her hand to his forehead again and found it warm and dry. “At least make an appointment to see a doctor.”

Al batted her hand away. “I’m not going to waste time with a quack. I’m fine.”

“What if you have a heart attack while you’re on a job? You should find legitimate work.”

“May the saints preserve us!” Al said fervently, crossing himself. “I’ll be going now.”

“Or you could retire,” Maddie persisted, following him to the door.

“Frame the artwork, darlin’. It’ll bring a little excitement to your life.” He patted her on the shoulder and, with his customary nimbleness, slipped out of the apartment. “So long. Keep out of trouble.”

“Wait! You’ve got to take that painting—” She broke off as a door opened at the end of the corridor. A mop of white fur attached to a leash lunged out, yapping at Al’s sneakers, followed by a burly figure in a red velour tracksuit.

Shirley Tamworth was taking her horrible dog Pixie for a walk. Shirley was in her sixties, overweight and had dyed black hair that made her skin look like parchment. She reminded Maddie of Ursula the Sea Witch only without tentacles. Shirley hated Jinx just because the cat hissed at her stupid mutt.

Maddie quickly closed her door and locked it. She dialed her brother Connor and left him a message about Al’s “flutter” with a request that he make their father go to the doctor. Then she poured herself a glass of wine and contemplated Fabian’s note.

What if he was telling the truth and a thief named the Chameleon really was plotting to steal the Rose? She could call and find out what he knew. Maddie pulled out her phone but her fingers hesitated over the buttons.
Trust no one,
he’d said. That included him.

Especially him.

Maddie threw the note with Fabian’s number back in the trash. She stared at it for a moment, fighting the irrational urge to pull it out again. Then she made herself walk away.

Good riddance to bad rubbish.

* * *

The next day after work Maddie hopped on the tram to Melbourne University. The red brick Earth Sciences building was right on the corner. She ran up the stairs to her PhD supervisor’s lab on the third floor.

Willa Kruger’s long, lean frame was curved over a microscope. Her choppy brown hair with its white forelock just brushed the collar of the man’s shirt she habitually wore over khaki cargo pants.

“Hey, Willa.” Maddie dropped her backpack on the closed lid of the centrifuge. “How was your field trip to the outback?”

“Maddie,” she boomed, straightening away from the scope. Her raw, jutting cheekbones and the ridge of her nose were sunburned. “Riding herd on twenty undergrads isn’t my idea of fun but we got some nice opal samples at Coober Pedy. Now I’m madly trying to finish the paper I’m giving at the symposium in Boston next week. How are you doing? How’s your article for
Scientific American
coming along?”

“I’ve finished the spectroscopic tests but I still have to take electron micrographs of the cut stone.” Maddie sank into a chair in front of the computer and swiveled back and forth, the toes of her red high-tops anchoring her to the blue linoleum. “Once that’s done I’ll send the paper to you for comments.”

“I’ll look forward to it. But it’ll have to wait until I get back from Boston.” Willa turned off the light beneath her microscope. “Rolf Hauzenegger is stopping by Melbourne on his way to the symposium. He’s going to deliver a guest lecture to the Geology Department.”

“You are kidding!” Dr. Rolf Hauzenegger was only the world authority on pink diamonds. Maddie’d studied from his textbooks and read every scientific article he’d ever written.

“He heard about the Rose going on display at your aunt’s store. He’d like to see the diamond. And he wants to speak to you.”

“To me? Oh my God!” Maddie had trouble breathing for a moment. “When is he coming?”

“He arrived in Melbourne this morning, I believe. I haven’t spoken to him yet. I imagine he’s recuperating after the long flight.”

Maddie jumped up and paced the lab, hands clasped in front of her red hand-knit cardigan. “Rolf Hauzenegger! I can’t wait to discuss my results with him. I have so many questions…about lattices in pink diamonds, about nitrogen content, about—”

She broke off. A horrible thought curled the hairs on the back of her neck.

“Something wrong?” Willa asked.

“N-no.” Maddie’s mind raced. What if this man was just pretending to be Dr. Hauzenegger? What if he was—she felt ridiculous even thinking the name—the Chameleon. No, she was letting that horrible intruder scare her. The idea was ridiculous.

Or was it?

She tried to think it through, to be objective. How could someone masquerade as an eminent scientist? He’d be found out. Although the very fact that he was a foreigner would make it easier for an imposter. No one would be able to point out that the fake Hauzenegger didn’t have a wart on his nose like the real scientist, for example.

“Willa, this is going to sound really dumb…have you ever heard of a jewel thief called the Chameleon?”

Willa barked out a laugh. “It sounds like something out of a spy movie. Someone’s pulling your leg, girl.”

“That’s what I thought.” Maddie frowned, sinking back onto her chair. “Have you met Rolf Hauzenegger? Do you know what he looks like?”

“I gave a joint paper with him at a conference in Johannesburg a few years ago. Why?”

“Just curious. He’s kind of a hero of mine.”

Willa would laugh herself silly if Maddie told her the real reason.

From the row of mineralogy books lining the shelf above her desk, Willa pulled down a textbook authored by Professor Hauzenegger. She flipped through the pages to a collection of photographs and handed the book to Maddie. “Here he is on a field trip. Nice enough bloke. A bit on the shy side. Not exactly hero material but there’s no accounting for taste.”