Jonny told me it was a sure thing, the perfect crime. It was easy to convince me to use my real identity: there were 26 temporary staff at the party that night and the cops had no reason to suspect me; a fake identity would eventually be discovered and investigated.
Jonny was well informed and his plan clever. As the fireworks reached a crescendo, balloons showered from the ceiling and bounced from the laughing guests. The heiress, drunk and excited, never even looked up as I snipped the gold chain and smoothly pulled the necklace away. After that it was easy; I slipped it in into a half-full gravy boat and casually carried it to the kitchen. All the cameras in the kitchen recorded was me disposing of some waste food.
Security questioned everyone that night but paid no special attention to me. I waited around to see the garbage out and then drove to the quarry to wait for Jonny.
It was almost dawn when I heard the police. Jonny must have been caught rooting in the trash and given me up. I was livid; cursing his name when they cuffed me.
The one cop seemed kind enough: “Don’t know about your Jonny son; we’re here on a tip – anonymous old lady phoned us, said she saw you out here prying some diamonds from a necklace.”
They found 2 diamonds taped to the inside of the rear bumper when they searched my car.
After I gave my statement, that same cop pulls me aside, “Listen son, you seem a good enough chap, but you stole a million dollar necklace; someone has to pay. Help yourself, give up this accomplice fiction and tell us where you hid the necklace.”
Jonny was right: it was a sure thing, the perfect crime.