Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
Meierle tilted his head and looked at Ames with newly found interest and obvious amusement. "So while your colleagues attempted to throw me off their trails with a couple of more or less cleverly fabricated stories, you have chosen to try the classic approach of putting the blame on someone else? Now I'm intrigued."
Guerrero tried to estimate Meierle's weight, which would determine how heavy the stones had to be that would keep his body underwater for a while.
Chance considered giving his buddy at TSC a call – Meierle definitely deserved an entry on the No Fly List. Or at least a bit of SSSS…
Ilsa wondered if Mr. Meierle had always paid his taxes correctly… she had an acquaintance at Austria's version of the IRS…
Winston contemplated how the detective would react to a thorough car inspection by SFPD… complete with drug-sniffing dog and a bit of tasering maybe? He was a foreigner, they could always refer to Homeland Security regulations…
"Hate to tell you, but you've fallen for the oldest trick in the book", Ames replied, the smile on her face indicating that she didn't hate this at all.
Meierle snorted.
"Have you ever attended a magic show? Those guys with the tigers… where one almost got eaten a couple of years ago… Siegfried and Roy … they are Austrians, aren't they?"
"Germans", the detective grumbled.
Ames didn't quite see the difference, and it didn't really matter anyway. "Ever wondered how they made their animals disappear? All those huge beasts?"
"I have to give you credit, so far I have no idea where this is going, Ms. Ames." Of course Meierle knew Ames' name. He had probably even obtained her Juvi records somehow… Damn, the guy was good.
"Distraction. Now you see it, now you don't. The audience stares at some flashy effect while in the meantime the wheels for the next big trick are set in motion."
Guerrero realized where she was heading and gave Ames an appreciative arch of his eyebrow – Not bad, dude.
The detective, however, was starting to lose his patience. "I'm sorry, Ms. Ames, but I still don't see…"
"Ilsa, who helped you up after you … had no choice but to knock down the chocolate fountain?"
Ilsa sighed as she relived this rather embarrassing moment – she had been watching the musician so intensely while trying to stay part of the crowd… the fountain had somehow just appeared… finest Austrian chocolate all over the summer dress' light beige silk chiffon with pastel borders and Brussels lace. A bustle had been used to accentuate the backside and bloody hell, had it been difficult to get up again with that thing hampering her range of movement. If she hadn't had help by...
"The room maid. The one who reported me as an intruder. She helped me to my feet." Ilsa's eyes widened as it dawned on her what Ames was aiming at.
"It was the same room maid that locked you two out on the window sill, wasn't it?" Ames' question was directed at Winston and Guerrero, but she didn't really wait for them to reply. Apparently she already knew the answer.
Chance couldn't help but feel pride at the way she was pulling this off, standing up to that detective… She had truly grown into a wonderful woman… They needed to talk about that moment in the cavern, shortly before the firemen had come in…
He sighed. Another problem that apparently couldn't wait till tomorrow…
"Funny coincidence, isn't it? But you gave it no thought because we're the ones with the checkered past and we made so much more noise that evening in Vienna." Ames shot Meierle a challenging look.
"Seriously, Ms. Ames, you really want to tell me that a harmless room maid spotted Mrs. Pucci's necklace, all of a sudden devised a complicated heist and decided to become a criminal? Aren't you overdoing the "Opportunity makes the thief" concept a bit here?"
"I think the room maid planned from the very beginning to steal the necklace", Ames retorted. "I took a look at the Kaiserhof's duty roster that night. She was not scheduled to appear. She had no business being at the ball or upstairs nosing around the guest's rooms."
She hesitated for a moment and her face became shadowed with the remnants of a dark memory. "See, this necklace…" She tapped at the plastic bag that contained Ilsa's replica. "This kind of jewelry is so special, it's basically unsalable. Jewelry is meant to be worn in public, you can't wear hot jewelry at a public event, so who would want to buy it? The person who stole it must have wanted it for personal reasons, not because of money."
It was the way her tone of voice changed that made all team members look up. Whatever she was going to say, it was somehow close to home. Ames opened a website on the notebook and showed it to them on the conference room's monitor. "This here is Countess Brunswik Whatever's late husband. He died last year after a severe heart attack. And this here is the room maid."
She didn't need to explain more – the similarities between the young woman and the elderly man where obvious, despite the huge age gap.
"Count and countess used to attend the ball at the Kaiserhof every year. Apparently the count enjoyed more than just waltz music… the necklace is a family heirloom – the illegitimate daughter wanted a piece of her family, that's why she took it."
"You concluded all that from the few clues in your colleagues' stories?", Meierle asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
Ames shrugged, and her team members knew exactly what that shrug meant. It's what I would have done.
"Go and check it out", she told him.
There was something about the atmosphere in the room that Meierle couldn't quite put a finger on. Something had changed, it felt as if the people had somewhat closed ranks.
Well, despite all his thorough research, he didn't know about Ames' bastard of a father and the terrible events surrounding her half-brother's death.
"You should leave now", Ilsa told him firmly, and the way the three men looked at him made it clear that he better heeded her suggestion.
Guerrero escorted Meierle to the elevator. "Check thoroughly, dude", he told him and suddenly the detective couldn't wait for the elevator doors to close behind him.