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Less than an hour later, I was standing at Central Park West and Eighty-seventh. There was Darrow's house. Then the alley. On the other side was a smaller place, definitely nice, but from the look of it still relatively affordable. More importantly, from the balcony on the second floor, you could easily see Darrow's dooryard. I bounded up the steps and hammered on the door.

"Marchetti, open up! I know you're in there!"

I had almost reached the point where I thought I'd come to the wrong conclusion when the door opened, and there she was, in a dress identical to the last, only plain white.

"Cain," she said. "I didn't think you'd make it." She opened the door. "Come on in."

She led me into the living room. It wasn't anywhere near as nice as Darrow's, but still a few degrees more comfortable than where I lived. Certainly, it was more modern than Darrow's, too. A high-end turntable, a good radio. Even a television. I sat down on the couch and she sat down right next to me, curling her legs up next to her. She looked me in the eye. "Glad you found your way."

"It wasn't easy," I said. "Where's the diamond?"

She shook her head. "So no-nonsense. We're going to have to work on that, honey."

"I thought once I found you, I could have it?"

"Did I say that?" she laughed. "No, Cain, I said you'd have to work for it. So work."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean, find it," she said. "Use that big rabbit head of yours and find it."

I was a hare, actually, but I couldn't see how that made the slightest bit of difference. "And it's here somewhere?" I asked.

"That would be telling," she remarked.

The question wasn't one of where in the room someone could hide a diamond, not even one of where in the house. Something as small as that would not be in any way difficult to conceal, especially for a career crook like Marchetti. The enterprising thief could have hidden it any number of places -- in a safe behind the picture on the fireplace in the next room, in the lining of the couch, inside the television somewhere. No, there were too many places she could have put it for me to even begin to think I could find it if it were an arbitrary hiding place.

So the question became: where would she put it? She wanted me to find it. In her weird, roundabout way, she really did want me to find that gem. Which meant that wherever she put it, it was not arbitrary in the least. She wanted me to follow her logic. So where, then? Somewhere I wouldn't normally think to look. I look at her, take her profile in. No, I guess that wasn't it. No telltale bulge in the fabric. She didn't have it on her, unless she'd had the wherewithal to stuff it somewhere no decent man would choose to look. It seemed like her style, but I shoved the thought out of my mind. No good thinking like that. I decided to save it as a last resort.

I had a thought, suddenly. I sprung up from the couch and paced upstairs. After peeking here and there, I found Marchetti's bedroom. It was there in the top drawer of her night table. I popped open the lid. I shut it again, disappointed. As it turned out, the diamond was not in her jewelry box. Plenty of jewelry -- I wondered how much of it was stolen -- but not what I was looking for. I replaced the box and closed the drawer, and turned around to find her leaning against the door jamb.

"The jewelry box?" she asked. "Not very original, is it?"

I had to agree with her on that one. Not the best guess I'd ever made. I watched her again, leaning against the frame. I watched as she reached toward the dresser and pulled a small bowl toward her. It was filled with peppermints, the same kind she'd offered to me last night.

"So what is it with you and mints?" I inquired.

"Bit of a non-sequitur," she replied. "Are you stumped so soon you're asking about my candy preferences?" She shrugged. "They're good. Plus, you've gotta keep your breath fresh, don't you? I left you a bag when I stopped by last night. Did you find it?"

And suddenly it hit me. I felt like such an idiot right then. It must have shown on my face, because Marchetti's suddenly lit up. She slipped close to me.

"So I guess you finally rumbled it, eh?" she purred. She slipped a hand into my breast pocket. "That's my number, sweetie. Give me a ring once it turns up, won't you?"

On my way out of the house, I heard her call to me, "I'd hurry, if I were you."

I was back at the office within a half hour, but it looked like I was a bit too late. As soon as I'd mounted the staircase, I saw that the front door was ajar. Hearing voices pour forth out of it, I snuck up close.

"When's he gonna be back?" said a voice. Deep, rumbling. A man's, without a doubt. It spoke in a thick Brooklyn accent.

It was Tilly that replied. "I don't know for sure, mister. He's not really the most communicative of bosses, you know. Soon, though, I think."

I swung open the door. "Or now," I said.

Standing before me was a thickset rhinoceros in a suit even cheaper than the one I had on. His horn was neatly polished and, it looked like, sharpened. I didn't even need his introduction to know who it was.

"Cain Coney?" he grunted. Without waiting for a response, he barrelled on. "The name's Vinny Tosetti."

Yep. Thought so. The question was, how the hell did he know who I was?

"What can I do for you, Mr. Tosetti?"

"I'm here on account a' my boss. He's askin' for news about something he's had his eye on."

"Really?" I asked in mock surprise. "What could that be?"

"A diamond," answered Tosetti, "belongin' to one Douglas Darrow."

"If it belongs to Mr. Darrow, why don't you ask him about it?"

"Well, I would, 'cept it seems he's left the country. Any idea why that might be?"

Shit. If Darrow really had left the country, he and I were both screwed. It was the worst thing he could possibly have done under the circumstances. But I suppose I could understand it. To his knowledge, I still wasn't any closer to finding the diamond, and there were only a few hours left until he was supposed to meet Rossini's men.

"Not at all," was my response.

"You know," said Tosetti, "this Darrow guy, he had a deal going with my boss. Boss paid him half up front for something he was s'posed ta deliver tonight. Twelve hours before delivery, he disappears off the face a' the earth. Smells a bit suspicious, see?"

"I suppose it does," I said. "But I don't see where I come in."

"We have it from a . . . reputable source that Darrow hired you on matter that was of great importance to him."

I sighed. That "reputable source" could really only be one person. "Why don't we take this into my office, Mr. Tosetti?" I waved my arm toward my office door.

"No, I think I'm okay out here. Ya see, this way, I can keep an eye on that secretary a' yours. Ya know, make sure she don't give us the slip." He reached into his pocket. "I'd hate for that to happen, see?"

"I guess we can drop the pretense, then, can't we, Vinny?" I asked.

"I guess so," he said. "Where's the damn diamond, Coney? I know youse got it."

"I think someone's having a joke with you, Tosetti," I said. "I don't have it."

"Yeah? Ya know what I think? I think you and Darrow are tryin' to rip Mr. Rossini off. Colludin' together, like as not. What's he payin' you, a hundred grand?"

I couldn't believe Tosetti hit the nail on the head with that amount, but I kept my mouth shut. If Darrow had really left the States, well, I wasn't going to get paid anyway. So I might as well give the man what he wanted. The question was, how? I doubted he'd believe me if I told him the exact truth, but maybe a modified version of it. But first, I had to lay hands on the diamond. I had to have some sort of proof.

"Why don't we talk about this in my office?" I asked him.

He didn't go for it. He eyed Matilda beadily and said, "And let the legs here go fetch the cops? What kinda mook you take me for? No chance."

"All right, then," I said, "Let me go in myself. There's something in there I need to get."

"Yeah, that's not workin', either, pal. I let you go in there, you get a gun, you shoot me through the glass."

I sighed. He was too smart to fall for tricks, and too stupid to see what I was really doing. It was the worst combination. I shrugged off layers until I was in my shirtsleeves, then held my arms out to my sides, revealing the .44. "Here, that's all I got," I said. "Take it and watch me from the door. If it looks like I'm gonna shoot, you can shoot first." He took the pistol off me and trained it at my heart. That seemed to put him at his ease. I crossed over to my desk and -- very slowly -- pulled out the peppermint bag. Blocking his view of what came out, I emptied the bag into my hand. After a thin layer of red-and-white candies, it fell out.

I walked back over to Tosetti. "Here's the deal," I said. "Darrow? The diamond got stolen from him. That's why he hired me, to get it back in time for the meet. I don't know if he was planning on following through on the deal or not once I got the gem back to him. But you know what? I don't give a damn. If he's in the wind, he must have either thought I wasn't going to get back in time, or else it was his plan to run all along. He can't pay me a dime from wherever it is he's got himself holed up, so I don't care about this case anymore. Take it."

I opened my hand. Laying amidst the couple confections was the most stunning gemstone I think any of us had clapped eyes on. Tilly was always rambling on about the rocks they had in the displays at Tiffany's, not that she could ever afford one. This diamond was on a whole other level. I really couldn't find words that described it. Its facets were so tiny as to give it the appearance, almost, that it was rounded at the edges. Instead of being perfectly clear, reflecting all sorts of different colors like you'd expect a diamond to look like, it was an almost blue tint. This wasn't some costume jewelry stone. This was something you'd imagine the damn King of England wearing around his neck.

In short, it was a diamond worth four hundred thousand dollars.

Tosetti, for all his mental inferiorities, seemed to summarize it much better than I ever could with two very short words: "Holy shit."

"Like I said, take it," I urged. "I have to work in this city just like you do. Last thing I need is bad blood with Rinaldo Rossini."

He plucked it out of my hand, like at any moment I was going to snatch it back and say it was all a joke. In the front room, I heard the telephone ringing and Tilly picking up.

Tosetti was still spellbound. I cleared my throat. "We good?" I prompted him.

"Y-yeah," he said. "Should be. Can't promise anything, but I think the boss'll be happy with this . . . result."

"Someone finds out about this --"

"You weren't involved, I never talked to you in my life," Tosetti finished.

"Good." Just then, Tilly stuck her head past the doorframe.

"Boss?" she said. "That's Joe on the line."

I tensed up. This was not a good time. "What's he want?"

She sighed heavily. "There's trouble," she said finally.

Oh, God. "What kind?" I asked. I didn't imagine I wanted to know the answer, but I figured I probably should.

"It's Darrow. They found him."

Wait. If they found Darrow, why did she look so terrified? "Where?" I said, dread stopping my breath.

"He's in the East River," she said. "And he ain't swimming."