Lincoln Gladwell was among the world’s foremost gemologists and jewelry designers. If anyone could replicate a piece, it was Lincoln. She took his arm and escorted him to a small private room off the main area.

He spoke with the most elegant British accent. “My dear Annie. If it were not for you, my life would be a complete bore. You really made me shake a leg this time.”

“It’s all for a good cause, my friend.” Annie pecked him on the cheek. “I hope you can stay for some refreshments and conversation?”

“I would be delighted.” He handed her several bags. Annie was wearing a flowing silk kimono with a wide obi sash, allowing her to stash the velvet bags around her waist. “And I am certainly not going to ask you what in the bloody blazes you are doing.” He tried to stifle a guffaw. He knew Annie could be up to almost anything.

“Excellent idea. The less you know . . . as the saying goes.” She tied the sash in the traditional way, wrapping it from front to back and around the front again, then fastening it securely with a knot. Confident she had the faux jewels well hidden, she and Lincoln returned to the main room. She gave him a pat on the bum and sent him off to the mingling crowd. “We’ll catch up in a bit.”

Annie motioned for Charlotte and Myra to join her across the room. They huddled in a corner, fleshing out their plan. Annie would greet Dr. and Mrs. Marcus, with Myra and Charlotte in tow. After several minutes of idle conversation, Annie would excuse herself, and then Myra and Charlotte would keep the Marcuses distracted by having them introduce their friends. They knew that Norma Marcus would be eager to show off for the countess, but if she were to get antsy and look for Annie, Myra would sidetrack her. Annie had less than ten minutes to complete the exchange of the jewelry before people would be wondering where she was. Lincoln could be a good backup if necessary.

“We can do this. We will do this,” Myra and Annie said in unison, and then Charlotte echoed their determination. They grabbed each other’s hands, said a silent prayer, and finished with a whispered “Amen.”

They expected Julian and Norma Marcus to be the first to arrive. And they were. Norma Marcus was wearing a bright puffy pink thing that served as her dress, with black patent stiletto shoes. But it was the garish red lipstick that made Myra flinch.

Annie did a once-over, checking for which baubles Mrs. Marcus was wearing. She was surprised that there wasn’t much. Large chandelier earrings and her seven-carat diamond engagement ring. Maybe she figured she could not outdo Annie, so she hadn’t bothered to try. Lucky break. But that dress. It was a tutu on steroids.