Manolos in Manhattan by Katie Oliver Page A

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    Manhattan’s elusive cat burglar struck again last night, robbing an undisclosed Park Place apartment and stealing an estimated $2 million in jewels.
    The jewels, including a Harry Winston diamond choker and matching earrings, were reported missing after Honoria Van Landingham and her husband Thomas returned from a charity ball held at the Ritz Carlton late last night. Police Chief Anthony Smith stated there was no sign of a break-in.
    As in recent burglaries, the security system was armed. Mrs Van Landingham informed police that she activated the system before leaving her apartment, and notified authorities upon discovering the jewels, valued at $1.9 million, were missing from the apartment safe.
    There are currently no suspects and no leads.
    “Goodness,” Natalie murmured. A cat burglar? Images of a suave thief, dressed in black as he rappelled from a tenth-story window following a successful heist, flickered through her head.
    It was all terribly mysterious and exciting. But not, of course, for poor Mrs Van Landingham, who’d had her jewels stolen.
    Natalie had a sudden thought. Rhys’s silver cufflinks – which the movers assured her they’d put in the enamel box on his dresser – had gone missing. Was Rhys right – had one of the movers pocketed them?
    Or had someone – the cat burglar, perhaps – stolen them?
    Her eyes widened. After all, she’d seen someone in the apartment on Sunday night...someone with a gun.
    She set her cup down on the table and hurried to the bedroom, and reached for the little enamel box on Rhys’s dresser.
    It was empty; a quick search confirmed that her husband’s cufflinks were, indeed, gone. And although she searched the entire bedroom for evidence of a visit from the burglar, there was nothing.
    Those bloody thieving movers
, Natalie thought indignantly as she returned to the kitchen, and her coffee.
We certainly won’t be using
their
services again.
    Still, she knew she’d seen someone in the apartment the night before, looming over her in the darkness with a gun in hand.
    Was it the cat burglar? Had he been there to rob their apartment?
    What if she hadn’t screamed and wakened Rhys? Who
knew
what might have happened?
    All these thoughts of burglaries and cat thieves made her a bit nervous. She went to the phone and dialed Rhys’s number.
    “Good morning, Dashwood and James, Rhys Gordon’s office,” Chaz chirped. “How may I help you?”
    “Hello, Chaz. I’d like to speak to my husband, please,” Natalie said.
    “Good morning, Mrs Gordon. I’m sorry, but Mr Gordon just got here, and he’s already in a meeting. May I take a message?”
    Ordinarily Natalie would thank him politely, leave a message, and ring off, but the newspaper article had left her more than a bit rattled.
    “I need to speak with him straight away. It’s important.”
    “Very well,” Chaz said doubtfully. “One moment, please.”
    A few minutes later Rhys picked up the phone. “Natalie, what’s wrong? Is it the baby?” There was a trace of alarm in his voice.
    “No, nothing like that. The baby’s fine. So am I.”
    “Thank God. Why did you call, then? I’m in the middle of a meeting. Chaz said it was important.”
    “It
is
important, very important. Oh, Rhys,” she wailed, “there’s been another cat burglary, and practically next door! I was reading about it in the papers just now. I think the burglar must’ve stolen your cufflinks on Sunday night, right after he robbed the Van Landinghams.”
    To her surprise – and annoyance – he began to laugh.
    “Rhys,” she said crossly, “it isn’t funny. I’m alone and pregnant in an apartment that’s been struck by the most notorious burglar in Manhattan, and all you can do is
laugh
?”
    “Sorry, darling,” he told her. “But I hardly think the thief would break in to our apartment for a pair of cufflinks.” He paused. “I should’ve told you.”
    “Told me what?”
    “I found the cufflinks in my suit pocket