‘Well,’ she said with an enigmatic smile, knowing this would appeal to his imagination, ‘we are going to solve a mystery.’
When the bus got near enough to walk to Fifth Avenue, the two of them hopped out and started to walk to Tiffany's.
When they got there, Holly paused to look in the windows and admire the wonderfully elaborate displays.
‘So we’re going to a jewellery store,’ Danny said flatly.
She punched him in the shoulder, ‘Yep, but I know a great movie theatre near by that might be playing … the Marx brothers.’
‘Really? YES!’ Danny did a goofy happy dance on the sidewalk.
Holly pushed him towards the entrance, ‘But here first, OK?’
They passed the swarms of tourists posing for pictures in front of the iconic store sign, and found refuge inside the swirling doors that led to the main ground-floor jewellery hall.
They walked past the opening display cases that showcased a variety of glittering jewels, and Holly quickly sought out a quiet area towards the rear, leaving Danny to wander around at his leisure. She caught the eye of a pleasant-looking salesman and smiled brightly.
‘Hello, I was wondering if you could help me?’
‘Of course, Madam, what can I do for you?’ he smiled, and she saw him surreptitiously take in her vintage Chanel handbag and chic, expensive-looking waffle-weave jacket - somewhat different to the majority of the ‘I ♥ New York’ type tourists in the store just then.
Holly took a deep breath and pulled the charm bracelet from her pocket. ‘Actually, I was hoping to show you something. I found this bracelet … ’
She quickly recounted the story. ‘It’s just so important that I get this back to the rightful owner. I know I would be missing it terribly, if it were mine. See this heart-shaped key charm here – it has a Tiffany’s mark on it. Do you think you could tell me a little bit more about it? Something that might perhaps help me trace the owner?’
The man, whose name badge read ‘Samuel’, looked closer, inspecting the charm. ‘Well, you are right, it is one of ours – a Tiffany key - possibly one of our most popular lines,’ he added, with a smile. ‘But,’ he continued, ‘this charm is produced en masse, so I doubt you could trace it back to the owner.’ He turned to his computer and quickly started pressing buttons. ‘There are hundreds of thousands of these sold worldwide – over a hundred thousand here in New York alone.’
‘One hundred thousand … ’ she said, crestfallen. ‘So there’s just no way records would be kept on … ’ She trailed off, and gave Samuel a bleak smile. ‘Oh well, I thought that this would be the place to start, but maybe I was wrong. I guess it’s back to square one. Thanks for the information.’
‘Actually, could I see the bracelet again?’
‘Sure,’ said Holly, putting it back down on the display case.
Samuel took the piece with his long fingers and flipped through the charms, before stopping on one. He turned it over in his hands several times, before going behind the counter to take out a jeweller’s loupe. Inspecting it through the monocle-like piece, he nodded, as if confirming something to himself.
‘This one here –’ he held up a gem-encrusted egg wrapped in a gold-coloured ribbon – ‘is rather distinctive in its craftsmanship.’
‘OK … ’ Holly’s face brightened.
‘It’s an expensive piece, made from gold and diamonds. The workmanship is quite exquisite actually.’
Holly tried to stop her jaw from falling to the floor. Gold and diamonds? She looked at the egg, which to her untrained eye looked no different to the ones on her own bracelet – little trinkets really. To think that she’d been carrying around a bracelet, with a teeny tiny charm on it that could be so valuable …
‘Oh my goodness! Are you sure?’
He nodded. ‘Definitely. Sadly, as it’s not a Tiffany’s creation, and as I can’t identify the maker’s mark, I suspect you’ll need to take your search elsewhere, perhaps to one of our … competitors.’ He said this as if there was something bad in his mouth.
Holly looked at the charm, trying to figure out where it might have come from – Cartier, Harry Winston maybe … She thought about the multitude of luxury jewellery stores in the city – or on Fifth Avenue alone. Surely they’d keep records of such an expensive purchase?
‘You’re sure you don’t recognise the maker’s mark?’ she asked Samuel.
‘I’m afraid not. It could well be a bespoke piece, and very distinctive – which, on the plus side, should make tracing the owner that bit easier.’
‘Thank you again,’ Holly said, her mind awhirl with this new information. ‘You’ve helped a lot, in any case. At least now I know to be more careful when carrying this thing around. Who knows how much the whole lot is worth?’
Samuel seemed to be wrestling with something and eventually he spoke again.
‘Actually, I do know of someone who might be able to help you – help trace the origin of the egg-charm, in any case.’
