The good news about Raymond Kray's coming out party for his new sapphire was that it was invitation only. That sounds like bad news for someone without an invitation and with no hope of getting one, but trust me, it was good.

Reason being; if you aren't letting the riff-raff in, then you have very little concern for the security of the object on display. The reason that museums have all their exhibits behind glass with alarms and guards is that they let just anyone in, crooks and all. The other plus side to this news was that the majority of the hired security would be on the doors rather than standing around the jewel itself - the theory being that if you stopped the criminal element at the entrance, then you didn't need to worry about theft. It's a good theory, unless the criminal element is someone like me, who can talk her way into anywhere. The trick, when it comes to getting into posh parties when you're not on the list, is acting like you belong. People who are used to being “on the list”, who have been “on the list” for everything since the day they were born, never actually stop to see if they're on the list, they just breeze past.

As chance would have it, a certain good friend of mine was one of those people. Her name was Countess Ursula Von Stockton, she was ninth in line to the throne of some eastern European country you've probably never heard of, and any resemblance she might bear to me wearing a wig was entirely coincidental.

Remi and I had created the Countess a few years ago for a con we were pulling on one of those business leaders who has everything money can buy, but has been unable to acquire class. He hoped the Countess would be his ticket into polite society - which means people who have no money but know which fork to use. She wasn't, and the businessman ended up losing quite a lot of money. Don't feel sorry for him - he got to his exulted status by exploiting his workers and teaming up with organized crime. That was a good day for Remi and me.

After making sure Remi wasn’t home, I headed back to the apartment and picked up the Countess's wardrobe, wigs and other accessories. The one thing I added to her ensemble for tonight - which was an improvement on when we had pulled the con before - was bodyguards. When I had played Ursula alongside Remi, he had been the Countess's PA, and general boy Friday, but those were roles that Alexei, Nico and Christoph were not well qualified to play - they just didn't look the part.

As bodyguards, however? They seriously looked the part, their muscular bodies crammed into tuxedos one size too small, scanning the room suspiciously and each with an earpiece from an iPod stuck in their ear. They made the Countess even more convincing, as she strode purposefully up to the penthouse of Raymond Kray that evening.

I have to admit, I love playing the Countess. I would never want to be one of those people who look down on the rest of the world just because they have less money than you do, but it is fun to play the part for a few hours. I stalked straight past the two doormen without even looking at them, and with such confidence that it took them a moment to chase after me.

"Excuse me, madam." As I had expected, the security personnel appeared to have been culled from the New York underworld - people Raymond Kray knew in his day job as an arms dealer. The one who spoke to me looked like a steroid-flushed gorilla attending a wedding. "Who are you?"

I looked down my nose at him with a stare like ice and spoke in the Countess's heavily accented tone. "Who are you?"

With that, I strode on, as if this was all the attention a person like me had to give to a person like him, and I made it a few more paces before the man was back in front of me, willing to stop me physically if he had to. As if from nowhere, a hand was on the gorilla's chest and the man looked up at Nico. The gorilla was used to intimidating people, it was clearly something of a turnabout for him to be on the other end of it. Nico loomed over him massively, his face set in a granite frown.

"Please don't go near the Countess."

"Countess what?" asked the gorilla, clipboard in hand, more nervous than he had been but still doing his job.

"Sort this out," I said, waving an airy hand at my muscular entourage before walking on without a second glance. It wasn't a ploy that would work for long, but hopefully it wouldn't have to work for long.

As I entered the impressive room, decked out for the big night and filled with people in clothes that probably cost more than my apartment, I swept it with my eyes and quickly located my host.

"Raymond!" Another thing I love about the Countess is that, if money fails, she is unafraid of using her sexuality as a weapon. Not all Eastern European royalty can pull that sort of thing off - it's unbecoming - but Ursula has a way about her that allows her to remain aloof and dignified, whilst also ferociously sexual.

Raymond Kray looked up from the man he was talking to, and frowned as I approached. "Good evening..."

"Countess Ursula Von Stockton." I held out an elegantly gloved hand for him to kiss, which he did.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"I would imagine so."

"I meant, have we met?"

"No," I said. Then flashed a wicked smile. "Not until now."

Kray smiled. He was a man who liked forward women. "The pleasure is mine."

"That remains to be seen."

From the corner of my eye, I could see the security men entering the room and looking about for me. I made no effort to hide and no effort to hide who I was with.

"Can I offer you a drink?" asked Kray.

"Most men do."

"I'm not most men."

"So I have heard."

"But I'll still offer you a drink."

"Then I shall accept." This sort of back and forth, verbal intercourse, I could do all night. It's pretty much the backbone of what I do. It's sad, I know, that in this day and age, a female grifter's best weapon is to be young, attractive and flirtatious, but you've got to use what God gave you, and this is where men are weakest.

"Sir?" the gorilla had finally summoned up the courage to interrupt.

"Fuck off," said Kray succinctly.

"But, sir, the lady..."

"Is my most fascinating guest."

"Right, sir. But her companions...?"

"Companions?" Kray raised an eyebrow.

"My bodyguards," I explained, enjoying his brief jealousy.

"Bodyguards? Plural?"

"Three."

"You need three people to guard your... body." He took a leering look at me.

"You don't think it warrants it?" I encouraged his gaze, stepping back to display the slit in my dress that ran all the way up my leg and over my hip, coming tantalizingly close to revealing something, but never quite doing so. I loved that dress; it frustrates the hell out of men and they start doing dumb things.

Kray shook his head. "Oh, it definitely warrants guarding. I'm just not sure I want it guarded tonight."

"You want me left vulnerable?”

Kray smirked. "You may have heard; I'm not a man to be trusted." He turned back to the gorilla. "Let the Countess's bodyguards in and stop treating my guests like they're criminals." Back to me. "Of course, you must have your body guarded. It's the second-most impressive thing here tonight."

I allowed my eyes to stray down to the front of his pants. "You flatter yourself."

"I meant the sapphire."

"Pity." If this sounded like I was genuinely flirting, then that was how it was supposed to seem.

"I guarantee it's the largest you've ever seen,” he said with a grin.

"The sapphire?” I asked, batting my lashes.

“Not this time."

Men like Raymond Kray came with one great benefit to a con woman; they already thought that every woman wanted them. The thicker you laid it on, the more convinced they became of their own attractiveness.

I sidled up closer to him. "When can I see it? The sapphire, of course.”

Kray wagged a finger at me in a way that made me want to break it. "Naughty girl. Midnight. Same time as everyone else. It's upstairs in my collection room. Next door to my bedroom."

"How convenient. When can I see that?"

The hungry look in Kray's eyes told me that I was onto a winner. I'm not arrogant enough to think that this was because I'm especially attractive - men like Raymond Kray collect women the same way they collect sapphires. Rarity counts for a lot and I doubt he'd ever banged a Countess before.

He looked at his watch. "Shall we say in ten minutes? I just need to give instructions to the staff on what to do for the next half hour."

"Hour."

"I'm not sure the host should be away from the party for that long."

"Not even to please one of his guests?"

Kray's grin broadened. "An hour it is. Up the stairs, third door on the right."

"Ten minutes."

As Kray headed off to give instructions to his staff - and brag to his friends, if I was any judge of character - I made a subtle gesture to the guys to let them know that I was in. At the bottom of the stairs - rich people always have apartments with staircases, they're like a trophy wife - another pair of security apes stood, stopping anybody who might be trying to get a sneak preview of the main event. They let me pass with a leering smile, clearly knowing what the deal was. I ascended the stairs with the languid elegance that characterizes Ursula Von Stockton and then, once I was out of sight of security, I hitched up my dress and ran. Ten minutes was not a long time to break into the collection room, steal the sapphire and retreat to the adjacent bedroom to meet Kray, but it seemed my best chance. Even if I was prepared to go all the way with Kray - and I definitely wasn't, as the man made my skin crawl - I didn't think it likely he'd give me the sapphire afterwards. I'm good in bed but I'm not that good.

I stuck my head inside the third door on the right: bedroom. That meant the collection was next door and the fact that door was locked seemed to confirm it. From a concealed compartment inside my dress, tucked away where not even customs officials would have found it, were my lock pick tools. I'd been picking regular locks like this for more than ten years and this one was child's play. Inside the collection room, the lights were on but dimmed to an atmospheric glow that showed the exhibits to their best advantage. Especially one. I took a moment to wonder at the sapphire, resplendent in its glass case. Even in this low light it seemed to shine, catching every available scrap of luminescence and reflecting it back magnified. It really was beautiful.

Back to business; the case was alarmed but, as I had predicted, the alarm was nothing special. They really hadn't expected trouble at this end. I had already looked about for security cameras but, like Dolos, Raymond Kray was a man who valued his privacy. God knows what arms dealer stuff he pulled here, but he certainly wouldn't want it on tape.

Running my fingers down the sides of the base on which the glass case stood, I found a hidden catch, flicked it, and watched the base open to reveal the alarm system inside. My eyes tracked the mess of wires, looking for the best place to cut. This stuff was so much easier before the world went digital. Still, I had seen this system before and it didn't take me long to get the measure of it and find the right place to snip so the alarm not only would not go off when I opened the case, but also would not go off when I cut the wire. This electrical surgery complete, I closed the base and turned my attention to the jewel itself.

"Does this look like a bedroom to you?"

One of the most important things for a grifter to learn is how to retain their cool when shit goes south. More importantly, to keep looking cool; don't give any sign that the bottom just dropped out of your stomach.

I turned to face Raymond Kray, smiling coquettishly. "I couldn't resist."

From the tone of his voice when he came in, I could be reasonably certain that he hadn't caught me cutting the wire, now, I just had to get his mind off some of the more incriminating elements of the situation, like the fact that the door had been locked.

Kray shook his head. "You are a naughty girl. I may have to put you across my knee."

Great, he was one of those. Men with the naughty schoolgirl/disciplinary fetish are amongst the easiest to manipulate, provided you can suppress your gag reflex while talking to them.

"Oh no," I said with mock horror, running a finger down the glass of the case.

"Oh yes. Come on, my bedroom is next door."

If I went into the bedroom now, then he wasn't letting me out again until stuff had been done that was never going to happen. I needed to get the sapphire now, before this act became suspicious.

"Do you know what turns me on?" I asked, abandoning the submissive girl and returning to the confident, aggressive woman that was more natural to Ursula.

"Well-endowed men with money and power?" At this point, it was going to take a team of wild horses to stop this man from getting on me but I'd deal with that problem when I reached it.

"Power is cheap," I said. "Money is meaningless unless you do something with it. Something like this." I spread my arms to indicate the room. The display cabinets in Raymond Kray's collection room were filled with precious stones, a monument to acquisitiveness over good taste. I strolled, languidly, towards Kray. "Have you ever let the stones watch?"

"Let them...?"

"Have you ever had a woman in here?"

"Have I ever...?”

"Had." I enunciated the word so it dripped with meaning.

He was undoing his belt before I had even finished the word. "Where?"

"Up against the sapphire case. I want to look at it while you do me." I was winging it a little at this point, but I did have a plan.

I slunk back across the room to the case, twitching my hips as I went, and assumed “the position” against the case. Then, as Kray came up behind me, almost tripping over his pants that were now pooled about his ankles, I “accidentally” flipped the catch and the base sprang open.

I giggled. "Looks like I'm even turning on the furniture today."

Kray laughed and went to close the door and, to my indescribable relief, stopped as he did so.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Somebody's been in here. Somebody's cut a wire." Presumably, there was a moment when his arrogance abated enough for him to wonder if I had been playing him, but then, why would I then open the door for him to see when I could have kicked him in the nuts, clubbed him over the head and made off with the sapphire?

"There was no one here when I got here," I said. "You should have kept the door locked."

"Should have..." The question that should have occurred to him as soon as he found me now struck Raymond Kray. "How did you get in here? The door was unlocked? Stay here. Guard the sapphire."

He ran for the door, yelling for security, apparently not caring that his pants were lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Well, it was now or never. There was no time left for subtlety, I smashed the case, grabbed the sapphire, and stuffed it into my purse. I grabbed my dress and, pausing only for a moment to recall what a good dress it had been, ripped it. As I ran for the door, I mussed up my hair and slapped myself in the face a few times - a black eye would have sold it better but who knew what the next of Zeus's tasks might require?

Reaching the top of the stairs, I stared out across the room filled with people and screamed, "It's gone! Someone took the sapphire!"

Chaos erupted. Security tried to seal the doors, people dashed this way and that for no good reason, then began accusing each other. In the middle of it all was Raymond Kray, a panicked figure with no pants. As I looked at him, I saw his gaze turn on me and the expression of realization was almost comical. It was also my cue to leave.

Finding Alexei in the mess of people, I gave a curt nod and he reached into his jacket as I hurried down the stairs.

"Everybody down!" Alexei fired three shots into the ceiling, turning the chaos into whatever the next step up from chaos is. Guests dove for cover, tables were overturned and security en masse decided that this had just become above their pay grade and abandoned their stations. As the guys kept the chaos coming, I slipped across the room, quiet and unobserved, and left the way I had come in. Once I was through the door, I broke into a run, skidded to a halt at the elevator, and spent a heart-stopping ten seconds waiting before the doors politely binged open.

Inside, I breathed again. Just down to the ground floor, out across the foyer and I was home free. The guys, as always, could look after themselves. One more task completed!

But I had spoken too soon.

The elevator came to a sudden stop. I glanced at the panel: between floors. Did Raymond Kray have the power to have the building locked down and brought to a standstill? Yes, he probably did.

I now had two choices; either I could wait here to be rescued and arrested, or I could take action, though there was not much action I was in a position to take. Contrary to what you see in Hollywood movies, elevators seldom, if ever, have handy trapdoors in the ceiling allowing heroes to escape. Sliding my fingers between the rubber seal where the doors met, I managed to pry them open. I was in luck; although we were technically between floors, we had almost reached the next one down and there was a gap of about a foot and a half at the bottom of the elevator door. I pried open the next set of doors. Now, all I had to do was squeeze through and drop to the floor, and hope the elevator didn't start moving again while I was doing it. That really didn't bear thinking about.

Moving quickly, I dropped to the floor and began to wriggle out, feet first into the corridor beyond. It would have made quite a sight for anyone passing by but, thankfully, no one did. As I reached my shoulders, I heard a mechanical clank from somewhere nearby and my heart skipped a beat. I threw myself into motion and landed heavily on the floor as the elevator started moving again. That had been too close. Nobody had told me that signing on to save the world came with the risk of being bisected.

The foyer was clearly not an option if the building was in lockdown - the place would be swarming with police. The fire exit seemed a better chance and I hurried towards it, still plagued by the grim feeling that they would probably have thought of that, as well. But as I entered the fluorescent and concrete interior of the fire escape, a door caught my eye with “No Entry. DANGER!” printed on it. Like many older buildings in New York, Raymond Kray's had originally had a spindly, iron fire escape running down its exterior. This rusty edifice had now been replaced, as it had only added tetanus to the perils of burning alive, but the structure remained, because one of the key tenets of western civilization is valuing old buildings more than human life.

The lock yielded to my skills even quicker than had the one on the collection room and I found myself twenty or so stories up on the creaking, grating fire escape, swaying as a slight breeze caught it. I began to run again, the steps clanking and clanging beneath my feet. I wondered when was the last time anyone had dared set foot on this thing and whether it would be able to stand it.

It wouldn't.

With a loud SPTANG! the bolts that held the staircase to the wall burst from their moorings. I shrieked as the steps canted over to my left, drifting out over the street far below. The steps fell into a horizontal position, jarring my feet loose so I was clinging on with white-knuckled hands, swinging over New York. I tried to think clearly, squeezing my eyes shut tight to stop myself from looking down. What now? Come on, I was good at this stuff. I was strong and fit and I could think my way out of any situation. But there are some situations where even the fastest and best of thinkers fail.

The staircase gave another jarring shudder, shaking my grip loose and I plummeted groundwards. Oddly enough, I didn't scream. I don't know why. Perhaps it just seemed futile. We scream in the hope of being rescued, and I had no hope. My last thought was of what my death would mean to Remi - a lot - and what it might mean to my mom - very little. I wasn't sure which was sadder.

THUNK!

I opened my eyes and, for the second time in as many days, wondered if this was heaven. If it was, then the place had been badly misrepresented. I was surrounded by cardboard boxes. I sat up and found I was on the back of a truck. A truck stacked high with what seemed to be empty cardboard boxes.

No way.

Just; no way.

The odds against dropping onto a truck were pretty long. The odds of dropping onto one loaded with conveniently cushioning items were beyond calculating. What the hell kind of truck transported empty cardboard boxes anyway?

As I pondered my good fortune, the truck started to move. I waited until we'd travelled a few blocks, then hopped out while we were stopped at a signal. As I landed on the sidewalk, safe and sound and with the sapphire still secure in my purse, I glanced towards the cab. In the light of a streetlamp, I saw the driver's reflection in his mirror. He saw me looking, smiled, and touched his cap.