"They ain't gettin away wit dis." Manny was the maddest I have ever seen him. He would raise a clenched fist, like he wanted to hit something, then hold it, veins popping on his forehead. Then he would take a breath and release, only to do it again. I did not want to be there but I had no choice. I was very aware that two of his goons were standing right behind me.

"Look," I told him. "I did some digging into the appraiser the family used. Turns out the guy is the fiancé to the niece. So much for being 'independent'. I'm betting the family hid the real stuff with him." I kept my voice steady and looked Manny right in the eye as I continued. "The appraiser/fiancé, Charles Winsop, lives in an apartment. Chances are he isn't keeping the stuff there. If you could have your guys poke around his office that's where you will probably find the swag. Don't take anything, get photos and get out without leaving a sign that you were there."

"What if he put the stuff in a bank box?"

"Then we go to plan B. But I'm betting he is keeping it close."

"Whadaya gonna be doing?"

"I'm going to monitor the insurance company. The family is going to have to file a claim. I want to know what they are claiming is stolen and how much they claim it is worth."

"How's dis gonna get me my money?"

"Trust me. Let's take it a step at a time."

Manny gave me a hard look and then waved a hand. Behind me I heard the soft rustle of fabric. I wanted to hope it meant the thugs had put their guns away.

Feigning confidence, I stood up, "Give me a call when you got something on the fiancé." I took a step around one of the thugs and no one stopped me. Remarkably, my knees did not wobble as I left the ice cream store.

'Guess I'd better come up with a plan B', I thought. And then, "where am I gonna get another passport?' Despite the bravado I had shown Manny, I did not put much hope in the plan I had just sold him.

~~~

The lawyer was skeptical. "You want to accuse Cynthia Williams-Gibson of insurance fraud?"

"Yes; and collect a fee for doing it."

"Look," I told him. "I found out they've filed a claim for 1.6 million bucks for the junk that we stole. It ain't worth crap. Here are pictures of the stuff they claim we stole but is really in their control. It just happens to be hidden in the office of Charles Winsop. He is engaged to marry Williams-Gibson's niece. I dunno, maybe he thinks he is protecting her inheritance.

But if that ain't enough to get the insurance company fired up, I give up."

It took just a day for the lawyer to get back to me. "The insurance company is interested but they want to talk with you personally." I started to shake my head no but he continued, "These guys you don't say no to. They're from the UIB?" He said it as a question.

"Yeah, the Underwriters Investigative Bureau. OK. Set it up. Let's see what they want."

"They are waiting in the boardroom."