Night shadows danced across the pale walls of Madame Lefitte's eighth floor apartment as she tutted through her evening routine. A slight tipsiness was all that remained of a night of champagne stars and the soft swell of an orchestra. Smiling to herself, the Madame changed from her evening frock into a nightgown. She then carefully removed her jewels from her neck and wrists and placed them inside her mahogany case. Lefitte might have been questioned in her taste in fabrics and gowns, but it was common knowledge that no one had a better taste in rocks. It didn't matter what kind, emeralds, rubies, or her personal favorite: diamonds. Each piece was worth a small fortune and Charlotte Lefitte constantly made sure everyone knew it. As the Madame shuffled through her apartment, she was startled by the sharp ring of the telephone. She let out a nervous laugh as she answered the phone.

"Hello, this is the Lefitte flat," the Madame answered, still quite tipsy.

"My dear Charlotte, it's me: Edith Williams. I'm so upset I didn't have a chance to say goodbye to you tonight. I was preoccupied in trying to pry my husband away from his coworkers so we could finally leave. I swear the man acts as if I don't even exist when he focuses on his work. And the way he simply casts me aside when he sees the opportunity to schmooze with another corporate big-wig…" the voice droned on.

Charlotte held the phone away from her ear and idly ran her fingers through her box of gems. Edith had a natural talent for boring people to tears. It wasn't a wonder as to why her husband spent all of his time at work. Charlotte noticed a pause on the receiver and quickly held the phone to her ear.

"Oh! I'm sorry Edith, I didn't catch the last part of that. Could you repeat it for me?"

"Of course Charlotte, I was saying how awful it was that Sylvie was robbed last night. Isn't it awful? I can't imagine waking up and noticing all of my jewelry gone and a ghastly yellow feather resting in its place!" Charlotte nodded her head in confirmation before realizing she was speaking into a telephone.

"It is rather dreadful, I'm just thankful I live on a higher floor than Sylvie does. I hardly think anyone could reach my room," Charlotte answered.

"I know, but isn't it hard to believe that the police have absolutely have no leads? There's no evidence left at any of the crime scenes. It's like the jewels just vanish in the dead of night when everyone's asleep! I can't even imagine the horror," Edith continued, her nerves showing more through each sentence.

"Yes well, I'm sure that you have nothing to worry about and neither do I. Goodnight Edith, I'll talk to you tomorrow," the Madame swiftly hung up the phone before she got sucked into listening to another monologue by Edith.

Turning back to her case, she closed the lid and placed the case in the depths of her dresser drawer. Just as she began to wander to bed, she quickly turned back to her dresser, extracted her most valuable diamond necklace from the case, and placed it in a small, silk drawstring bag. So maybe she was a little more nervous than she let on. But, could anyone truly blame her? There was a thief on the prowl. She then sleepily crawled into her bed and placed the pouch under her pillow. Just in case.

The slight tickle of the champagne quickly lulled her into a dreamless sleep, leaving her unaware of the moonlight shadows casting darkness across the room, making their way to the patio doors of the Lefitte flat, and turning the handle door open.

The shadow crept into the room without a sound and situated itself at the foot of the king sized bed. Staring at the unaware hostess, the shadow allowed a broad grin to creep across its face before getting to work.

Its eyes scoped the room before focusing on the dresser. Bingo. Crossing to the bureau, a pair of gloved hands rolled the drawers open and grasped the edges of the jewelry box before emptying it into a small satchel. Placing the box back and closing the drawer, the shadow turned but not before placing a solitary yellow feather on the polished surface of the dresser. A grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat appeared on the shadow's face as it examined the contents of the bag. The smile faltered however when it realized all of the pieces were not accounted for.

Quietly maneuvering around the apartment, boxes were checked and every drawer was opened. No inch went unturned and the shadow grew frustrated until it saw a small drawstring out of the corner of its eye. Of course. The light bended and fractured over Madame Lefitte's face as a hand slowly slid beneath her pillow and extracted the drawstring pouch. Another feather was placed next to the sleeping woman's face.

The shadow left as quietly as it entered. The curtains framing the patio doors finally lay still as the door closed with a soft click. The only sounds remaining were Charlotte's soft snores and a fading whistled tune that echoed over the silent streets of France.