The traffic accommodated her speed and she turned onto Jeff's street, slowing to read the numbers as she did. His house was a small but attractive two-storey, neatly maintained with a nicely appointed entrance, thanks to a clump Silver birch that leaned like an arbour over the front walk.

He hadn't wanted her here but she was willing to chance his anger. She parked the car and rehearsed her lines a couple of times before climbing out of the car and going to his door.

Jeff opened the door and his face froze. He felt a range of upsetting emotions jostling for attention as he felt her eyes boring into his. Her smile was shy and crooked and he blinked several times rapidly before getting his mind in gear.

"What do I say?"

"Come in would be nice." She swayed slightly, adding to her humble attitude.

"Okay, I can be nice. Come in." He stepped back and allowed her to enter, the residual scent of perfume again sticking to his senses as she passed.

"Nice place. Didn't get to come here last time." She walked tentatively into the living room and studied some of his ornaments, a small dish of pebbles, from the beach, she guessed, and photos. "Is this you?" She picked up a small, silver framed picture and looked more closely.

He took it from her and put it back on the table. "What are you here for, Jessica?"

"May I take my jacket off?" She did as she asked and he just closed his eyes and flopped into a chair. "I want to apologize for earlier- for not being honest with you."

"I can think of eight hundred thousand reasons," he said sarcastically.

"Jeff please, I'm trying. This has been very hard for me." She chose a seat across the room and sat with her fingers clasped, arms on her legs.

"What hard? You suck me into picking up your pile of money and then you disappear until, I imagine you thought it was safe, and then you come and pick it up from me. Now what, you're back with another plan?"

"That's not fair. You don't understand what this is about."

"Why don't you tell me. Better still, why don't you just leave and take your explanation with you."

"Jeff, I need your help." She looked down at the floor to avoid his reaction.

"Help! That's rich that is. What, have you got more bundles of money lying around you need fetched?"

She raised her head and spoke softly in the throaty rasp that had set the hairs on his arms tingling. "My ex boyfriend- well not really a boyfriend, more a- well just a guy. Anyway, he was the one who left the money at the hotel and now I think he knows it was me that took it."

"Another sucker."

"Jeff, please hear me out. Ralph- that's his name, was buying smuggled emeralds from Donald Carver−"

"The guy I impersonated?"

"Yes. Donald is a- well he's a bit of a criminal. Actually he's more than a bit he's a mob connected criminal and when−"

"Mob connected! Wonderful! That's just bloody wonderful."

Jessica took a deep breath and hurried on, hoping to override any further interruptions. When she finished, Jeff just sat staring in disbelief, wondering how the hell he ever got into such a mess. He got up and paced around while he ran her wild tale over in his mind

She wanted him to keep the package for her until she thrashed out her innocence with Ralph. She seemed confident that he would eventually believe her and she was equally confident that she could shift the blame somewhere else. This Orly, she felt, would be an excellent choice.

He threw up his arms in disbelief.

"You just expect me to become an accessory in your admitted theft of this guy's money?"

Quietly, Jessica pointed out that he was already an accessory, shutting her mouth while he purged his anger and finally crashed back down into his chair, red-faced and panting.

"It's crooked money from crooks, Jeff, not some innocent civilian."

"Oh well then," he waved his arms magnanimously. "Please carry on. How could I have been so short sighted?"

"I'm only saying that the law has nothing to do with this. These people do not run to the police for help."

"Bloody right, they help themselves. Isn't that a cheery thought."

"All I'm asking, Jeff, is for you to hang on to the money until I work out this little problem then I'll get it back and we can say goodbye."

"Why me?"

"Because I trust you. I have from the first day . . . obviously."

Jeff's protests flagged under her pleading, his mind busy with trying to handle her undeniable allure and proximity. Even when he wanted to reach out and whack her about the head, he felt the tug of her sensuality and he felt a measure of guilt over his imagination.

Eventually, after more arguing and explaining, he agreed to just think about it and as a good will gesture, offered to take her to a time-out dinner on the small, raised patio of a popular area restaurant. Couples casually assessed and critiqued the diner's meals while strolling past on the narrow sidewalk. Discussions were drowned out when a streetcar rumbled by, the steel wheels grating on the rails.

Jessica avoided personal small talk; instead, she took advantage of their truce by insisting on telling him about the emeralds that the money was supposed to buy. Jeff sat, fascinated by her knowledge, sipping slowly from his glass of beer and wondering just exactly who this Jessica was and did he really want to see the last of her.

"As you know, emeralds are really the mineral beryl. Actually, beryl is the mineral for a number of varieties of gems. Pure beryl is colourless and transparent but becomes emerald through the addition of minute amounts of chromium, which changes it to the green colour."

"I didn't know that," Jeff said. "I don't know why you thought I would know I also didn't know that there were different varieties."

"Oh yes." She took a forkful of salad and chewed thoughtfully. "That was just a figure of speech. As for variety let's see, there's Aquamarine a blue beryl; it's more common than emerald. There's golden beryl and rose beryl, or morganite; they're less valuable. Pure beryl is sometimes used as a gem called goshenite."

"You seem very knowledgeable about this beryl."

"My name is Jessica."

He halted mid bite and then had to laugh at the joke and her sense of humour. "Very deft."

She sat back and looked away into the street and Jeff felt that with her joke she had just released a tiny piece of information unintentionally.

"I studied as a gemologist."

"And do you work at that now?"

"I don't want to be rude, Jeff, but I hate talking about myself."

"You haven't said anything yet," he chuckled. "I don't even know your last name."

"Did I mention that beryl has little fire or brilliance so the real value comes from its hardness, transparency and colour?"

"Unlike you." He drank some more beer and assumed a waiting mode.

"I think I've eaten enough, are you- have you made up your mind about helping?" The glow on her cheeks was not from too much wine.

"You just want me to hold it for a short time, nothing else. Right?"

She nodded.