What He Pulled From The Velvet Clutch

“Put it on the table.”

Luca’s voice was completely devoid of anger, which made it ten times more dangerous.

My hand shook as I placed the heavy silver pocket watch onto the mahogany table, right next to the fake silver engagement ring.

“I didn’t take this, sir,” I said. My voice was surprisingly steady, despite the terror gripping my chest.

“It was in your pocket,” Luca stated.

“Vanessa planted it there.” I turned to face her. “Fifteen minutes ago, when you asked me to go upstairs and fetch your ring. You bumped into me in the hallway. You grabbed my apron.”

“That’s insane!” Vanessa scoffed, looking at the guests for support. “She’s trying to blame me because she got caught.”

“Why would I steal a broken pocket watch?” I asked.

“Because you’re working for the scarred man!” she fired back. “You forged that pawn ticket from your mother’s shop, and you stole the watch for him!”

I looked at Luca. He was staring at the watch, his mind calculating every angle.

I had to prove I was telling the truth.

I thought about my mother. I thought about the thousands of hours I spent at the pawn shop, learning how objects tell a story.

“Sir,” I said. “May I touch the watch?”

Luca’s eyes flicked to me. “Show me.”

I didn’t pick it up. I just leaned close to it.

“Mrs. Bellini says she couldn’t open your safe,” I said. “But someone clearly did.”

I pointed to the shattered glass face of the watch.

“Look at the glass, sir. Specifically, the edges where it’s broken.”

Luca stepped closer.

“This watch has been locked inside a velvet-lined steel safe for three years,” I said. “It should be perfectly clean. But look at the dust inside the cracked glass.”

Luca squinted.

Inside the deep grooves of the shattered glass, there was a fine, pale white powder.

“Drywall dust,” I said.

Vanessa’s breath hitched.

I looked at her hands.

“Mrs. Bellini,” I said quietly. “You told the staff to stay out of the west wing all afternoon because the contractors were sanding the new drywall in your private dressing room.”

Nobody spoke.

“You didn’t open the safe today,” I continued, turning back to Luca. “She opened it earlier this week, hid the watch in her dressing room under the drywall dust, and then slipped it into my pocket tonight when she realized I was going to expose the fake ring.”

Luca turned slowly to Vanessa.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t threaten her.

He simply reached across the table and grabbed her red clutch again.

“No!” she panicked, trying to pull it back.

But Luca tipped the bag upside down.

Lipstick, a compact, a phone, and a small leather wallet tumbled onto the table.

And one more thing.

A wooden rosary.

It hit the wood with a heavy clack. The beads were carved from dark mahogany, and the silver crucifix was bent at the bottom.

My breath caught in my throat.

My knees suddenly felt weak.

Answer one: Vanessa stole the watch and framed me.