They called him The Silkworm. He was a second story man. No one knew how he got in the buildings, but he always left from a second story window. He always left by and left behind a silk rope dangling from the window. The brownstones on Park Heights Avenue were his favorite haunt. He stole the Ming vase from Mrs. McHaughty’s in February. No one can figure how he got it down the silk rope.

In March, Mrs. Pepperoni’s diamond tiara disappeared down the silk rope. The Social Column in the paper wondered why she had a diamond tiara. Was she royalty? Or just pompous. Police surveillance increased in April. Nonetheless, Mrs. Purdy’s Amati cello disappeared one night. A silken rope was the only clue.

As the end of May draws nigh, police surveillance is going to be much higher. That’s going to make my job harder. It was harder wooing old Mrs. Armbruster. Especially after her husband returned so unexpectedly. He goes on his business trip next weekend. That’s when I’ll make my move. She’s ready. I can see it in her eyes. The silk rope, of course, is a red herring. I leave by car. After a night of having the attention paid to them that their husbands have neglected for so many years, these rich ladies aren’t going to turn me in.

And so, to Mrs. Armbruster. I meet her at Luigi’s Ristorante in Pompton Plains. That’s far enough out of town that no one will spot us. A fine dinner, some fine wine, some fine attention paid, and I convince her to bring her home with me. I’ve heard of a small painting in the study that should bring good money in the black market.

The silk rope is in my pocket. I chose silk because it’s light and strong. A cognac in the study, so I know the painting is still there. A seduction scene, and we retire to the boudoir. That is when I found out that Mrs. Armbruster is in drag. A brief visit to the bathroom, and I’m out the window. This time, I actually do use the rope. I scurry off undetected. I think it’s time for The Silkworm to retire.