Eva and the Stolen Diamond

Spread 3

Eva took out her magnifying glass and crouched by the display case. Wet footprints showed dark on the honey-coloured parquet — narrow, with a pointed toe.

“Tima, light.”

Tima clicked on his torch. Drops glinted in the beam. Eva touched one with her finger — ice-cold.

“That’s melted snow,” she said. “And it’s as warm as summer in this hall.”

She opened her notebook and quickly sketched the print: a pointed toe, a little notch in the heel.

“Why draw it?” asked Tima.

“Footprints dry. Notebooks don’t.”

Spread 7

“Enough of the flowers!” Sorokin threw up his hands. “Search the hall!”

And the detectives searched. Tima looked under every table, and Eva behind the tree and behind every column.

And then the radio crackled again — at the worst possible moment, of course:

“Shhh… Eva, come in! It’s Miron. I’m outside on the terrace. There’s a snowman here. Is he suspicious? Shhh…”

One of the guests snorted. Tima laughed so hard the spoons on the table rattled.

“Copy, Miron,” said Eva. “Leave the snowman. You stay next to him and watch the windows.”

Spread 9

Eva lifted the star by its little wire loop and held up her magnifying glass. No blue sparks — just glass.

“This isn’t the diamond,” she said. “It’s a glass star off the tree.”

Everyone turned to the tree. On a low branch, right by the stairs, hung an empty hook.

“Somebody took it down in the dark and slipped it under Lev’s napkin,” Tima worked out. “So we’d look in the wrong place.”

Lev let out his breath. Sorokin coughed and smoothed his moustache.

“So the thief is simply quick.”

“Very quick,” Eva agreed. “He swapped one star for another.”