Sweet Revenge

far between. It was more true, though he would never admit it, that the captain had an affection for the trim man beside him. Regardless of, or perhaps due to the fact that Spencer had tried for almost a decade to put Philip behind bars. There was something unceasingly annoying, and therefore satisfying, in working with a man who had skillfully eluded justice.
    When Philip had made the decision to work
with
rather than
against
the law, Spencer hadn’t been fooled into thinking that the thief had suddenly repented his crimes. With Philipit was business, first and last. It was hard not to admire a man who made his decisions with such exquisite timing and with personal advancement uppermost.
    Despite the warmth of the afternoon sun, Spencer huddled inside his overcoat. He had a blister on his left heel, the beginnings of a head cold, and was approaching his fifty-sixth birthday. It was difficult not to envy Philip Chamberlain his youth, health, and smooth good looks.
    “Damned silly place to meet,” Spencer muttered only because it made him feel better to complain.
    “Have another peanut, Captain.” Philip was too used to Spencer’s black moods to be bothered. “You can look around and think of all the hardened criminals you put behind bars.”
    “We’ve more important things to do than eat peanuts and look at monkeys.” He dipped into the bag again anyway. The taste, and the scent of animals reminded him of Sunday trips to the zoo as a child. He harrumphed away the sentimentality. “There was another robbery last week.”
    Intrigued, Philip leaned back and imagined smoking a leisurely cigarette. “Our same friend?”
    “From the looks of it. An estate on Long Island in New York. Barns worth—wealthy, upper crust. Owns department stores or some such thing.”
    “If you’re speaking of Frederick and Dorothea Barnsworth, they do have a rather pricey chain of department stores in the States. What did they get taken for?”
    “Diamonds.”
    “Always my first choice,” Philip said, reminiscing.
    “Necklace, bracelet. Insured for half a million.”
    Philip crossed his ankles. “Well done.”
    “It’s damned annoying.” Spencer sucked another nut into his mouth, then slapped his worn leather gloves against his palm. “If I didn’t know for certain where you were last week, you’d have some questions of your own to answer.”
    “Flattery, Stuart, after all these years.”
    Spencer drew out a pipe, more because he knew Philip had quit smoking than because he desired it. Taking his time, and puffing clouds of smoke, he settled back. “The fellow’s slick. In and out without a trace, drugged the dogs. Dobermans—nasty, vicious beasts. Brother had one once—detested it. Security system’s top-notch, but he slipped right through.Took only the set of diamonds. Left bonds, securities, a ruby brooch, and a particularly ugly ruby necklace.”
    “He’s not greedy,” Philip mused. He knew how tempting it was, and how foolhardy, to be a greedy thief. Over the past six months he’d developed a fine and very personal admiration for this particular thief. Class, he thought. Class, style, and brains. He grinned. They had a great deal in common. “He wouldn’t interest me so much if he were greedy. How long have you fellows at Interpol been after him now?”
    “Almost ten years.” He didn’t like to admit it. Though it wasn’t true he always got his man, his record was excellent. “The man doesn’t have any pattern. Five hits one month, then nothing for half a year. But we’ll get him. One mistake, he’ll make one mistake, and then we’ll have him.”
    Philip brushed some dust from the lapel of his coat. “Is that what you used to say about me?”
    Spencer deliberately puffed smoke in Philip’s direction, “You’d have made one—we both know it.”
    “Perhaps.” Which was precisely why he’d quit while he’d been ahead. “So, do you think he’s in America?” Philip thought he’d enjoy a trip to the States.
    “I think not. I’m inclined to think he’ll put some distance between himself and the heat. We’ve got a man in New York, in any case.”
    Pity. “What do you want from me?”
    “He seems to prefer hitting the very rich, and doesn’t mind lifting well-known pieces. In fact, if there’s any pattern at all, it’s that he prefers to take well-publicized jewelry. The Stradford pearls, the Lady Caroline sapphire.”
    “The Lady Caroline,” Philip said with a sigh. “I have