by Gail Meath
Jax jumped out of the car when he saw the officers escorting the furious, hand-cuffed millionaire down the front steps. He hurried across the street to get a closer view and leaned against the police car that was parked out front to haul the man to the station.
“Carlton!” Robert shouted. “Tell my lawyer to meet me at the thirteenth precinct! I swear you are going to pay for this Captain Ryan!”
Jax smiled at him. “You’re all washed up, Ashworth. Let’s see your mother get you out of this one. Or two.”
“Go to hell, Diamond!”
“Right behind you, Ashworth.”
Tim stood beside him, chuckling. “That’s hitting him below the belt, Jax.” They watched Robert get into the backseat, and the car drove off. “How is Laura holding up?”
“She’ll be okay, especially now with Ashworth behind bars.”
“Ralph Boyer is looking through those financial records you found in Ashworth’s office at the theater, and some of our men are inside the mansion, searching every room for a copy of the manuscript. Hopefully, they find something that leads us to the men who Ashworth had hired to do his dirty work. Then Laura will be safe, and she can move back into her own apartment.”
“I kind of like having her around. So does Ace.”
“Missus Ashworth is still at their summer home. Captain Ryan is trying to contact her.”
“Won’t she be surprised?” Jax laughed. “When will you be questioning him? I’d like to be close by.”
“Not until tomorrow morning. He’s going to be a hard egg to crack.”
“If you hit him in the right spot, he’ll shatter. Especially since he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. I’ll see you in the morning, Murph.”
On his way home, Jax stopped at the local delicatessen. He picked up a few cans of chicken soup and a loaf of Italian bread. He assumed Laura wouldn’t have much of an appetite just yet. If she did, he could call his favorite Chinese joint around the corner and pay them to deliver it.
Jax thanked the officers who were still in the hallway guarding his apartment, and he found Laura and Ace on the sofa together. Ace was practically laying in her lap, and Jax got a real kick out of how quickly he’d become attached to her. Ace didn’t even lift his head when he walked into the room.
“Robert Ashworth is in custody now,” he said as he sat down beside them. “And it won’t take long to find whoever else was involved.”
“I’m glad,” she said quietly.
“I have plenty of chicken noodle soup, or I can order Chinese. I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d be.”
“Soup is fine. Thank you.”
He stretched his arm over Ace and rested his hand on her shoulder. “What can I do for you, Laura?”
“You’ve done so much already. I truly appreciate it. I learned the hard way a long time ago that when you lose someone you care about, as sad and heartbreaking as it is, you can’t go back and change what happened. I should arrange some sort of funeral for him. Someone has to. I don’t want his life to be erased so quickly.”
“Joe Marsh, the coroner, is a friend of mine with a big heart. I think he would be more than willing to put a funeral together at little or no cost.”
“That would make me feel so better, Jax. There won’t be many people. Just a simple gathering would be nice.”
“I’ll give him a call.”
She smiled at him. “Did you say Chinese? A couple of rice rolls and some chop suey sounds delicious right now.”
He laughed. “Consider it done.
The next morning, Jax heard the bathroom door open. His legs were draped uncomfortably over the other side of the sofa, and his blanket lay in a crumpled pile on the floor with his pillow buried underneath somewhere. His neck ached and his back was killing him from sleeping in a crunched and crooked position all night. And when he sat up, he groaned in pain.
“Good morning, Jax,” Laura greeted cheerfully. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took a nice, hot bath and stole one of your dress shirts. I forgot to bring my robe with me.” She was towel-drying her hair, and his white striped shirt barely covered her knees.
“What’s mine is yours, I guess,” he muttered as he rubbed his neck.
She sat down in the chair beside him. “What’s for breakfast? Ace and I are starving. It’s nearly nine-thirty already.”
“Nine-thirty?” He bolted to his feet. “I have to get down to the station. They’re questioning Robert Ashworth this morning.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I wish you had told me.” She reached over to pet Ace. “I didn’t think I would sleep very well, but knowing Robert Ashworth is in custody helped. I called Mister Kratz at the theater earlier. The director had already told him what had happened to Mister Beacham, and he felt as badly as I do about it. He didn’t mention knowing about Robert Ashworth’s arrest, so I didn’t say anything. As far as he knew, we still have a performance tonight. It will be tough for everyone. I called Annie, too, and let her know. She was heartbroken. Could we stop by to talk to your coroner friend about a funeral before we go to the station? If he’s willing, I can let everyone at the theater know about it at our rehearsal later this afternoon.”
Jax was staring at her, and her scant appearance. He shook his head to get rid of his indecent thoughts. “I’ll give Joe a call before I leave and ask him. I want you and Ace to stay here in the apartment while I’m gone. There are plenty of corn muffins in the cupboard. You didn’t happen to make any coffee, did you?”
“The cups are on the counter and the kettle is full. It’ll only take a minute. But Jax, I don’t want to stay here all day. Can’t we come with you?”
He looked at the pleading expression on her face, then his eyes wandered to her legs again. He stood up. “Okay, I’ll heat the kettle while you get dressed.”
When they arrived at the police station, Tim wasn’t at his desk, so Jax led Laura around the corner to the back rooms where they interviewed criminals, victims, and witnesses. A few officers were standing around drinking coffee in the hall, including Tim.
“Are they questioning Robert Ashworth now?” Jax asked.
“Captain Ryan, Lieutenant Simmons, and a few other officials, including the commissioner are in there with him now. His lawyer showed up, too. Ralph Boyer finished reviewing those financial records and wrote a lengthy, detailed report on them. If we can’t pin any of the murders on Robert Ashworth, we sure as heck have a solid case against him for bootlegging and money laundering stemming from his close business relationship with Orin Marino.”
“What a surprise. I gather Ashworth hasn’t confessed to the murders yet?”
“He’s putting up quite a fight. He keeps denying having anything to do with Sanders’ death. He also said that he doesn’t know anything about the ring, or how it got into his desk. He’s even claiming that there was nothing personal going on between him and Kitty Cooper.”
“We know that’s a lie,” Laura spouted, gathering their attention. “Well, we do!”
“When they asked about Horace Beacham’s death,” Tim continued. “He acted surprised as though he knew nothing about it.”
“Your men didn’t happen to come across a couple of copies of Sanders’ manuscript at the mansion, did they?”
“Nope. No manuscripts or poisonous plants.” Tim held up his index finger. “But wait, there’s more. Orin Marino is waiting impatiently in the second interview room. Those financial records are as damaging to him as they are Robert Ashworth, so he’s got a lot of explaining to do. Two of Marino’s thugs who had received payments directly from Robert Ashworth are in the third room. And Patricia Sanders is pacing back and forth like a caged tiger in the fourth room. We’re not sure if she had anything to do with this, or whether she knows anything of importance. But she gave the officers such a tough time at her apartment when they showed her the search warrant, they brought her in just to shut her up.”
Jax laughed. “You have a full house.”
Laura suddenly slipped behind Jax, wh
ispering, “Missus Ashworth is here.”
Both Jax and Tim turned around. The woman was heading their way with her thick-heeled black oxford shoes pounding the floor as furiously as the contorted scowl on her face. They all backed away against the far wall to let her pass. Laura tried to remain hidden behind Jax, but the woman spotted her and halted directly in front of them.
“Laura!” Missus Ashworth barked.
She slowly came forward despite Jax’s subtle effort to stop her. “Yes, Missus Ashworth.”
“What are you doing here? Where is my son!” the woman demanded.
Laura pointed to the first room. “He’s inside with his lawyer, ma’am.”
Missus Ashworth flashed her a disapproving glare and headed for the door. Tim stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Missus Ashworth. You need to wait until...” But the woman stormed inside the room and slammed the door behind her.
“Well, so much for your authority,” Jax kidded.
“I’m used to it being friends with you.”
“Can I use your phone, Murph?” he asked. “I told Laura that I’d call Joe Marsh to see if he could arrange a small funeral for Horace Beacham, and I forgot.”
“Help yourself. You know where it is.”
Jax headed off. “I’ll be right back. Don’t talk about me while I’m gone!”
Tim laughed as he watched him walk away. “He’s a real character, isn’t he?”
Laura smiled, too. “Yes, he is. He told me last weekend that he kind of grows on people. He’s right. Have you met the rest of his family? I wondered if they were all just as clever and goofy as he is. With such a big family, he’s probably not the only one.”
Tim lost his mirth and checked the office area to make sure Jax was out of sight. “He doesn’t have any family, Laura.”
She looked at him queerly, thinking he was joking. Then, she saw the pained expression on his face. “But Jax has talked about his family, Tim. He said that he grew up in the country in upstate New York. He’s mentioned his parents and his mother. And he has a younger sister named Lucinda. Why would he say all that if it wasn’t true?”
“He made up those stories to avoid talking about his childhood with anyone. That’s what he told me. But I think it’s his way of coping with the truth, and probably wishful thinking on his part.” She looked up at him, and he took a deep breath. “Someone left him on the doorstep of an orphan asylum when he was a newborn. He never told me which one. There wasn’t a note in the basket or anything to let them know what his name was or where he was from. Just one single playing card tucked underneath him, the jack of diamonds. The nun who found him there decided to name him, Jax Diamond.”
She wandered a few steps away from him, thinking about it.
“He didn’t tell me about it for quite some time, even though we quickly became good friends on top of being partners. But after several holidays went by, I realized that he never visited his family, and no one visited him, so I confronted him about it. He finally told me the truth and confessed that it was one of the reasons he became a police officer. He’d hoped to have better access in tracking his mother down. He said he didn’t care what her reasons were for giving him up. He just wanted to know why she didn’t leave any sort of clue as to who he was. But so far, he hasn’t had any luck.”
Laura felt horrible for Jax. She didn’t even want to think about what her life would have been like without her family. She’d had such a wonderful childhood, safe, tight-knit, and loving. And after her father died, his death merely brought her, her mother, and brother even closer together.
“From what I gather, Jax had it pretty rough inside that orphanage,” Tim went on. “He ran away several times, but the police or some concerned citizen kept dragging him back there. He wasn’t allowed to leave until he turned sixteen. That’s a lot of years in a kid’s life. Please, Laura, don’t say anything to him. I don’t want him to know that I told you about it.”
She turned around to face him again. “Of course, I won’t.”
“Jax irritates the heck out of me. But I love him like a brother.”
“He feels the same about you, it’s easy to see. He’s lucky to have you as a friend, Tim, and I’m glad you confided in me. Did he leave the police force to search for his family on his own?”
“No, that’s a whole other sad story in his life and something else that’s been eating at him. I think I’ve said enough. Here he comes.”
21
The Gardenias
Still Friday, June 8
Laura and Jax stayed at the station until Lieutenant Simmons emerged from the room, looking as though he’d been through the mill. He had a few choice words about Missus Ashworth, then he told them that they were keeping Robert Ashworth locked up pending a determination of bail. Laura had no desire to face Missus Ashworth again, so she and Jax left to meet with Joe Marsh regarding the funeral.
By mid-afternoon, they were heading for the theater since Laura didn’t want to miss the rehearsal. But she couldn’t stop thinking about what Tim had told her. Discreetly, she glanced over Jax.
What had happened to him was tragic. So, too, was his earnest effort to cover it all up. That in itself was proof whatever he went through as a child must have been wretched. Yet, knowing the truth made better sense of his jovial attitude, scoffing off danger, and clowning around. Like a defense to cover up the pain inside of him.
“Joe Marsh seems very nice,” she said, pulling herself back into the moment. “Thank you for stopping by his office and asking him to do this, Jax. I’m so glad that I can pay tribute to Mister Beacham this way. Having it on Monday morning will give everyone fair notice. And Greenwood Cemetery sounds beautiful and with such rich history.”
“Murph said that he and some of the officers want to attend the funeral, so we’ll need to let him know. Everyone feels lousy about what happened to him. By rights, the Ashworths should pay for the whole thing.”
“I have a little money saved that I’d like to give to Mister Marsh.”
“Joe won’t accept it from you, but he’d charge them triple.”
At the theater, they entered through the back door. Laura grew worried as they made their way upstairs. It was eerily quiet. Not a soul passed them on the stairwell, and the hallway on the second floor was empty, except for Mister Kratz who was standing offstage talking with a few of the stage crew.
When he saw them, he finished giving the other men their instructions and walked over. He said that the director had postponed all performances indefinitely, and he was sending everyone home. Laura wasn’t too surprised, but she was disappointed. She told him about the funeral arrangements, and he very kindly agreed to handle notifying the theater employees.
“Not everyone has a telephone, but I’ll call those who do,” he assured her. “I didn’t think Horace had any living relatives, so I’m grateful to you for organizing it. He was one of the nicest men I’ve ever known.”
“I thought the world of him, too, Mister Kratz.” She turned to Jax. “It’ll just take me a minute to gather a few things before we leave.”
“Laura, there was a delivery for you about an hour ago,” Mister Kratz told her. “Jimmy signed for it and put it in your dressing room.”
“That’s odd. I wasn’t expecting anything.” She thanked him, and she and Jax made their way across the hall. After she opened the door, she looked around the room, but she didn’t see any package. She pointed towards the closet. “All the outfits in there belong to the theater. The ones hanging on the clothes pole belong to me. I’ll pack my personal items from the vanity in my handbag. I wasn’t sure if the show would go on. But I guess not. I have no idea what I’m going to do now.”
“It’s just temporary, Laura,” Jax soothed as he gathered her things. “You are far too talented. Plenty of other theaters will be knocking down your door in no time at all.”
“I wish,” she said, but she wasn’t so confident. She turned around to set her handbag on the floor and stopped short.
There was a bouquet of gardenias sitting on the top of the vanity. A chill ran through her as she slowly sat down. “Jax? Remember when you first came to the theater and questioned me about Mister Sanders’ death?”
He laughed as he grabbed a few more clothes and carefully draped them over his arm. “Yeah, you didn’t like me very much.”
“No, I didn’t. But before you left, you asked me about the gardenia that someone had sent to me during the performance that night. You said that they have a special meaning.”
“Every flower has its own meaning, good luck, happiness, gratitude, love. Giving someone a gardenia means they have a secret crush on you.” His arms were full, and he turned around. “Why are you bringing that up?”
“At the time, I didn’t think much about it. Well, maybe I did, but I figured it was just a strange coincidence. Even when I received another one on Monday, I thought it was odd, yet there didn’t seem to be any connection.”
He laughed again. “Some people believe there’s no such thing as a coincidence.” He approached her and saw the flowers. “Where did those come from?”
“I don’t know,” she said, dazed by the sight of them. “They never come with a card.”
“How many have you gotten?”
“Three single ones. And now this.”
He laid the clothes over the back of her chair. “When did you get the first one?”
“I was working in the Follies. It was a Friday night, I think, back in March. I shared a dressing room with the rest of the girls, and they all thought it was sweet when it was delivered to me. But then, the stage manager called us all together to tell us about Kitty Cooper’s death the prior night.”
“And the second one was delivered to you the night after Sam Sanders’ death,” he stated.
She looked up at him, worriedly. “And Mister Beacham died this past week.”
