Chapter 6
The replicas were good.
That became important.
They were not cheap costume jewelry that anyone would notice across a dinner table.
Whoever commissioned them expected the pieces to survive casual inspection.
David Cole traced workmanship on two settings to a restoration workshop in Philadelphia.
The owner cooperated.
He had received commissions through an intermediary named Miles Crane.
The orders were described as “historical reproduction work for private educational display.”
That was legal.
Museums commissioned replicas.
Collectors did too.
The workshop had no reason to assume theft.
Katherine asked:
“Who paid?”
A corporate account belonging to Harrow Event Holdings.
Magnus’s eyes narrowed.
Grant Harrow’s security company?
No.
Different business.
Harrow Event Holdings belonged to Sabina herself.
It predated their marriage.
She used it for private events and design consulting.
The invoices totaled $188,000.
Not hidden particularly well.
That confused Magnus.
“If she was building replicas for fraud, why pay from her own company?”
Katherine answered:
“Because most people do not expect anyone to ask why a wealthy woman commissioned reproduction jewelry.”
Fair.
The workshop never handled the originals.
They received measurements, professional photographs, and stone specifications.
Who supplied those?
Miles Crane.
They found him.
Forty-two.
Private jewelry broker.
No criminal record.
His attorney arranged an interview.
Miles admitted knowing Sabina socially.
He had helped her sell jewelry before.
Her jewelry.
According to him.
Katherine showed him photographs of Helena’s collection.
His expression changed.
He recognized the sapphire pendant.
He had brokered its private sale six months earlier.
Magnus became very still.
“To who?”
Miles looked toward his lawyer.
The lawyer whispered something.
Miles answered.
“A European collector.”
“Who owned it?”
“Sabina said she did.”
Magnus laughed once.
It was not humor.
“What paperwork?”
Miles produced a provenance statement.
It showed the pendant transferred to Sabina as part of a marital gift.
Magnus had never signed such a document.
His signature appeared anyway.
Katherine asked Miles:
“Did you verify the transfer?”
“I received a notarized copy.”
The notary stamp was real.
The underlying transfer was not.
The notary later admitted she had notarized Magnus’s signature package in bulk at a family-office meeting and had not witnessed every attached document separately.
Another weak system.
Another piece Sabina could exploit.
The pendant sold for $310,000.
Below its insured valuation.
Quick sale.
Private.
Funds went to Sabina’s event company.
Then from there to:
Credit cards.
A personal investment account.
A loan payment.
And a luxury apartment in Manhattan titled in a holding company.
Magnus frowned.
“She wasn’t broke.”
No.
Sabina had personal assets above ten million dollars.
Why risk everything for another few million?
Katherine warned him:
“People steal for reasons other than survival.”
Then the insurance broker sent another document.
Sabina had asked a very specific hypothetical question five months earlier.
If an item had been replaced by a convincing replica without the owner’s knowledge, when would a theft legally be considered to have occurred?
The broker answered carefully.
That would depend on evidence and policy terms.
No claim advice was given.
The question itself was unsettling.
A second question followed:
If a collection suffered multiple losses during a period of documented security failures, would they be treated as separate incidents or one course of loss?
Again, general information.
No crime.
No claim.
But Sabina had been thinking about replicas and security failures at the same time.
Katherine placed the documents side by side.
“Clue one: replicas.”
Magnus nodded.
“Clue two: staged-looking security incidents.”
“Yes.”
“Clue three: expanded insurance coverage.”
“Yes.”
He looked at her.
“What does that add up to?”
“Not enough yet.”
Magnus groaned.
May you like
Katherine smiled slightly.
“You pay me to annoy you before prosecutors do.”
