Page 1 of Third Crime's A Charm
One
The plan was to get in, make a royal scene, then get out with the diamonds while everyone was still whispering about his arrival. Matteo von Hessen rarely stayed at parties and galas for more than a few minutes. Just long enough to be seen but never long enough to be a suspect.
A reliable source had tipped Matteo off and another had confirmed that there were around 200 karats worth of loose diamonds in the townhouse’s study and that only the pinnacle of New York society was invited to the intimate party. “Intimate” was approximately fifty people, including guests and servers, but Matteo was in his element. He’d already relieved a few guests of their watches and jewelry and knew exactly how he was going to slip in and out of the study.
There was one major hitch in Matteo’s plan: Truman Tennyson.
A Chicago native, the notorious attorney had recently moved to Manhattan. Everyone who mattered knew about Truman Tennyson and Matteo had been warned to steer very clear of him. Having worked as legal counsel to some of America’s most infamous gangsters, drug lords, and hitmen, Tennysoneventually branched out to divorce and family law. As Muriel had put it: “You can’t hire just anyone if your spouse knows where the bodies are actually buried. People like that hire Truman Tennyson to handle their divorce.”
Muriel Hormsby—widow, socialite, terror, and internationally renowned gossip—was Matteo’s best source for intel about New York society but she was in Austria and no one had warned Matteo about howhotTruman Tennyson was. He had silver-streaked black hair and bright blue eyes, making it hard for Matteo to focus on anything or anyone else in the crowded townhouse. Tennyson had taken very good care of himself and didn’t look like he was nearly fifty. He looked like sin in a charcoal double-breasted suit, sans tie.
Instead of slipping out onto the parlor’s smaller balcony and climbing up to the study’s terrace, Matteo lingered and pretended to enjoy the fresh air and the view. They had traded smiles and faint nods and Matteo hoped that Tennyson was curious enough to introduce himself. It was a foolish game for Matteo to play, given the small fortune already tucked inside the secret pocket under his coat’s lapel.
But Truman Tennyson’s imposing, demanding aura was alluring and Matteo couldn’t resist getting a closer look. Matteo waited on the balcony, hoping his host would follow.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Tennyson said as he strolled through the open French doors and offered his hand. “Truman Tennyson. I was going to play it cool and wait for someone to introduce us but I got impatient.”
“Matteo von Hessen,” he replied, laughing as he leaned against the balustrade. “Patience isn’t one of my virtues either.”
“So I’ve heard. Let me get you a drink,” Truman said, waving at a passing footman. “What will you have?”
“Bourbon on the rocks.” Matteo narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What haveyouheard?” he asked, admitting that he’d been warned as well.
Truman grinned as he held up two fingers and the footman hurried off. “Your oldest brother, Leopold, is the Margrave of Hessen. You’re second in line but rumor has it thatnoneof you want the title. You, least of all. You’re said to be charming, yet cynical. But you’re devoted to your family so you tow the line and do the pretty. Looks like you’re picking up the right habits while you’re here, though.”
“Not according to my brothers.” Matteo flashed him a wide, cheeky grin. “They think I’m becomingtoo American.”
“I hope not. It isn’t every day that you get to meet an Austrian prince.”
“We’re not that rare. I know of at least four,” Matteo said with a dismissive wave, making Truman laugh.
“Oddly enough, you’re related to all of them.”
“Take my word for it, they’re not that interesting.” Matteo signaled for Truman to come closer, as if he wanted to share something secret. “And we’d all be happier if the whole damn thing imploded tomorrow.”
“Really?” Truman whispered, sounding legitimately puzzled. “Is it all the responsibilities or is it…Austria?”
“Nee! WeloveAustria and I would do anything for my brothers, but the title is a gimmick and a colossal pain in our collective arses,” he whispered back, causing Truman to choke before letting out a loud laugh.
“I was wondering if you were the communist. I heard one of the younger brothers was a troublemaker.”
“Thatwould be Elio. He’s a nightmare and has been arrested for trespassing several times. Can’t pass a building without trying to climb it or jump off of it.” Matteo shuddered andtapped on his forehead. “You’d think a genius would be more careful with this.”
“And he’s the communist?” Truman verified but Matteo shook his head.
“No, that’s me. Although, I appreciate the challenges and improbability of apurelycommunist society and will settle for socialism.”
Their drinks arrived and Truman thanked the footman as he passed one to Matteo. “To new friends and imploding empires,” he said and held up his glass.
“Hear, hear.” Matteo tapped his against Truman’s, then took a long sip. “God bless Kentucky,” he said with a contented sigh.
“They doa fewthings well down there and bourbon is definitely one of them. So, do you despise all royals or just Austria’s?” Truman asked, swaying closer and resting his hip next to Matteo’s.
“I can’t see the point of any of them. Aristocrats, oligarchs, and billionaires are all leeches. Sorry,” he said with an apologetic grimace.
“No offense taken,” Truman said, chuckling as he sipped. “I’m not a billionaire, yet, but nearly all of my clients are leeches.”
Matteo nodded, thoughtful. “I was expecting you to be scarier. Your reputation is rather sinister.”
