“You can’t prove a thing,” Janet said. She was pretty good with the haughty looks. “We’re leaving.”
“We can certainly prove that Jessica and Josh were both in the Himmelfarb house. Gloria can confirm it and we have evidence with DNA and fingerprints from your vantage point on the second floor. You should be more careful with your coffee cups, cousins.”
Jessica shrieked, “I told you the trash was gone, you idiot. Now we’ll all go to jail.”
Josh bellowed back, “No, you’re the idiot, not me.”
Nancy Mitchell shook her head. “This is beyond belief. Jean, my friend, you’ve had a very close call.”
Uncle Kev said, “That’s why we have it all on tape. Nice confession. You’re both doofuses.”
I shook my head and suggested that Kev zip his lip.
Janet and Clara pushed their way from the room. “Let’s go,” Clara bellowed. “They can’t stop four of us, and if that crazy Russian woman hurts anyone, she will be going to jail, and better yet, she’ll be deported back to whatever hellhole she came from.”
I whirled to look at Zoya, who turned almost transparent and slumped against the table. Tyler and I barely caught her in time. Janet and Clara headed for the front door while Jessica and Josh, pushing and slapping at each other, raced toward the back.
Nobody was expecting Gus and the boys. One per perpetrator. Soon all our fleeing felons were squirming under a surprising amount of weight.
Officer Martinez stepped through the front door, looked at the wriggling bodies, listened to the shrill protests and said, “Well, this has been interesting. I hate to think I missed some other good stuff too.”
Kev unzipped his lip long enough to say, “You’ll like the video, Officer. Hope you brought lots of cuffs with you.”
Tyler and I took Officer Martinez aside as her backup team walked the four pathetic would-be heirs to the waiting squad cars.
He said, “And you’ll find some more evidence in the cameras that we planted in the ninth-floor suite at La Perla. We couldn’t go back to get them, but after the attacks, we wanted to be sure. They’ll be date stamped and I think you’ll find the shooters who were after Jordan. Then you can tie them all together.”
“And we won’t have to worry about the chain of evidence,” she said. “Unlike your coffee cups and trash that you’re not sure how you came to have. Listen to them. They can’t wait to turn on each other. I’d say we’ve got ’em. Let’s see if the cousins will turn on the thugs.”
I said, “The shooters may have been hired professionals. They had that look.”
She nodded. “That’s what I thought when you sent the photo you shot through the hotel door peephole, but it was too distorted to ID them. We’ll keep at it. But at least you guys can relax and enjoy the rest of your holiday without worrying now. And I just want to say, if I’d listened to you, Jordan, and tracked down Jessica, she might have cracked under the strain earlier, saving a lot of trouble.”
I shrugged. “We were grateful that you believed us about everything.”
Smiley said, “Amen to that.” As awful as the hired professionals were, I think he was relieved the attacks had nothing to do with his hidden photo album.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It ain’t over ’til it’s over.
—The Kelly Rules
OFFICER MARTINEZ WAS in a very good mood when we spoke to her the next time. Apparently, Jessica and Josh were so happy to implicate each other and each other’s mothers that they’d spilled all.
“The plan was to scare Tyler and you away, by various attacks. The dognapping was a last minute addition to stress Mrs. Huddy. It was sort of goofy, but they had cooked up this conspiracy to get their mitts on the Huddy money. They were convinced they were entitled to it, and if Mrs. Huddy had a heart attack from the stress of everything that went on, that was just tough.”
Tyler shook his head.
I said, “What about the other guys?”
“Nothing yet. We’ve been digging and they look a bit like a pair of low-level mobsters. But we don’t have proof and all four relatives keep insisting they know nothing. We can’t shake them, and believe me, they were easily shaken on all the other stuff: The Prius attack was Janet. We have proof of rental. The cable car was Clara. Your photos helped there. Too bad you didn’t report those. The break-in across the street and dognapping were Jessica and Josh. But no one will admit to the violent home invasion or either incident at the hotel.”
“I don’t think it was any of them. I’m pretty sure they’re connected.”
“We’ve been all over that, and we believe they’re mob goons, but old guys, who should be retiring in Vegas by now. No one’s seen them around for years. They’re connected all right, but not to your gang of four.”
“Any names come up?”
“Some guy named Les ‘the Bat’ Blatt was supposed to run them back in the day.”
Uh-oh. “Still alive, though. Keep us posted.”
“Sure thing. They may have had you mixed up with someone else.”
“Let’s hope,” Tyler said.
I had a funny feeling in my stomach.
* * *
“HERE.” KEV HANDED me a parcel. It was a book wrapped in plain brown paper, with a simple twine bow. Inside was the Red Harvest that Farley Tso had promised me.
“How did you get this?” Don’t get me wrong. I was ecstatic that I wasn’t going to face the wrath of Vera for having lost her money plus “failure to acquire,” as she would put it, the Red Harvest.
“I don’t think you want to know, Jordie.” Of course I didn’t want to know. I needed to know for my own peace of mind. “I think you had better tell me anyway.”
“Don’t be mad.”
“Don’t be mad” was never followed by anything good. “You don’t have to worry about Blatt’s guys anymore. They’re, uh, taken care of.”
What? I gulped. “Kevin, no!”
“Not me, you know I couldn’t ever, um, take care of things like that. It was Seamus. I sent him a message, said we needed his help. Don’t ask me how, Jordie, I don’t want to lie to ya.” He shifted uncomfortably under my horrified gaze. “He wasn’t gonna let you get hurt, even though he never met you, you’re family. He risked everything coming back here, dealing with those guys and then making it look like the thugs ran off with the diamonds. That Blatt’s not gonna keep looking for you. Now he’ll be looking for them.”
“I feel sick.” Another two people whose lives ended because I was just doing my job.
“I don’t know why, Jordie. These were really bad guys. They never got to you, but they got to poor old Farley Tso and they got to the manager at the hotel. Seamus found out they threatened his wife and kids—and the guys in that restaurant. People were really scared of Blatt’s thugs. There are a lotta other people in California that are pushing up daisies thanks to them. They would have killed you without blinkin’.”
I guess I didn’t have to feel entirely awful about the missing goons. But I was still conflicted.
“Where’s Seamus now?” But I already knew he was in the wind.
“Halfway back to nowhere.” I could see a sadness creep into Uncle Kev’s bright eyes. He truly missed his brother, and that was obviously a bond that would never die. I was lucky enough to have the same bond with Kev and Mick and Lucky and even with Seamus. I pulled Kev’s jean-jacket-clad body to me and gave him a bear hug.
“What’s that for?”
“For being you, Kev.” He seemed to accept that and hugged me back.
* * *
THE MOONLIGHT GLITTERED on San Francisco Bay. We glittered a bit ourselves. I was wearing my red dress again and my cute little dress boots. I’d been warned that the air on the bay would be chilly, so I had artfully arranged a pair of pashminas from Gram’s collection around my neck and shoulders. Under the pashminas I wore the nec
klace from Farley’s shop. I thought I’d wear it just one time. I had a twinge about poor Farley and what had happened to him.
But this was a night to celebrate. It was our last evening in San Francisco after seven days of incredible and unexpected adventures. Gram had chartered a party boat for us to have what she called a “belated celebration” of our engagement and the ousting of the reptile cousins. Once again there was champagne, but this time Tyler and I were able to enjoy it.
In my small evening bag, I had an old-fashioned telegram from Vera.
Understand congratulations in order STOP Don’t dawdle STOP Bring Red Harvest STOP VVA
Nothing had changed, except that I now had to repay the money I’d borrowed for my replacement phone. I’d gotten off lightly.
Officer Martinez had been able to join us, although that had involved getting permission from up the line. She was in her civvies and looked amazing in a slinky black dress and four-inch silver heels. Her hair was long and loosely curled and her large silver hoop earrings suited her, as did her silver arm party.
Although it wouldn’t have been my first choice for our champagne party, Gram had catered Chinese food for the event, following, I believe, a suggestion from Uncle Kev, who was in everyone’s good books except mine. He would have been in Tyler’s very bad books if he knew everything there was to know.
Nancy Mitchell had joined us as had Gloria Zeller. Ana Maria had claimed a night school commitment, but maybe she was just too shy to come.
We all enjoyed the floating festivities and the Chinese food was perfect, as it turned out. I loved the little take-out boxes that you could eat right out of. Even Zoya and Asta seemed to be having a good time over sweet and sour chicken balls.
My wish for a three-flavor gelato cake had also been honored. While everyone was clinking glasses and chatting pleasantly about whether double chocolate, hazelnut or pistachio was the perfect flavor, I slipped away and sent a group text to Tiff and Lance.
Haven’t chatted in a while, thought I would give you guys a “ring.” I snapped a picture of my gorgeous heirloom citrine and sent it along with the text.
Lance was first to reply. OMG!!! Congratulations, Jordan. Officer Smiley has great taste in jewelry AND women. I am only entirely jealous. And then, of course, a winky face.
This was topped by Tiff’s response. I hope you realize I can only support this union under the following conditions. 1. I get to be the maid of honor, and 2. We get to go to Vegas for your bachelorette party.
Wedding bell and bride emojis were followed by a dozen martini glasses to let me know she was happy about it.
I knew she would be; any doubts in either of their minds would have been put aside when I decided to say “yes,” because that’s what friends do. And I had some great ones. As I wandered back to the party, I wondered if there could be a librarian of honor in a wedding party and also if I could give Vegas a miss.
I sat down near Gram and commented, “Zoya seems a bit more relaxed.”
“The poor girl. I know she can be a bit difficult but I am very fond of her. I suppose I should explain. She was here as a so-called Russian bride for a man in his fifties, and she found herself in a terribly abusive relationship with no one to turn to. She was fleeing from him and happened to come across me when I’d fallen in the street while shopping. She took a big chance to stop and help me. And I took a chance to help her. I gave her a home and she has given me a comfortable life. It’s good for both of us.”
“What happened to him? Did she ever see him again?”
She shook her head. “He spotted her again not long after and chased her right through heavy traffic. She got across, but he didn’t.”
“What a shame,” I murmured. “You’re sure?”
“We both made the trip to the morgue. You can never be too careful.”
“Words to live by.” But of course, I hadn’t been living by them.
I turned as there was a roar of laughter as Gus and the boys traded stories with Uncle Kev. Nancy Mitchell was able to throw in a few of her own. And Gloria said that she regretted being so respectable all her life.
Everyone toasted our engagement. I showed off my citrine ring. And Smiley showed off his Guy Noir Bobblehead, my engagement gift to him, which he was equally proud of.
I enjoyed wearing the diamond necklace, just one time before I mailed it back anonymously to whoever I found were Laurie Leff’s rightful heirs. No one would ever think it was real, except me. Wherever he was, Uncle Seamus might enjoy that idea.
We had survived our adventure stronger than when we’d begun. We would continue to survive and we might even thrive. But like the great Dashiell Hammett, I would reserve the right to have my little secrets.
Smiley and I raised our glasses and said in stereo, “To us. Whatever that brings with it.”
RECIPES
GRAM’S BEST FRIED CHICKEN
Enjoy this old time treat with family or friends.
1 chicken, about 3 ½–4 pounds
4 cups fresh buttermilk
4 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp sea salt
½ tsp ground pepper
1 cup flour
¼–½ tsp cayenne pepper (depending on how spicy you like it!)
2 tsp paprika
2 tsp dried thyme
2 cups Canola or corn oil
½ cup butter
Additional salt and pepper to taste
Cut the chicken into eight to ten pieces. Gram cuts each breast in half if the chicken is large. Combine buttermilk with Dijon, salt and pepper. Cover chicken with buttermilk mixture and marinate overnight if you can.
Add flour, paprika, dried thyme and cayenne to a large plastic bag with a zipper closing. Shake well. Add chicken piece by piece and shake to coat. Remove and place on a dish until ready to cook.
In a large cast iron skillet (or regular skillet if you don’t have cast iron) heat oil and butter until very hot. Cook half the chicken at a time, covered, reducing heat to medium or medium-high to keep it from smoking. Turn when brown (eight to eleven minutes depending on the size of the pieces) and cook about ten minutes until done.
Place on a platter with paper towels to soak up excess oil.
Serves four.
TYLER’S FAVORITE LEMON DESSERT
Memories of childhood desserts will come flooding back with this, a favorite for all ages.
1 ½ tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
⅞ cup sugar
1 tablespoon lemon zest (1 large lemon)
¼ cup lemon juice
¼ tsp salt
3 extra large eggs, at room temperature, separated
1 ½ cup milk or cream
Preheat oven to 350°F for 30–35 minutes.
Beat butter and sugar until well combined. Add lemon zest, lemon juice, egg yolks, salt and flour. Beat until light and fluffy. Gradually add milk and blend well.
Beat egg whites until stiff. Fold into lemon mixture. Pour into GREASED 6-cup baking dish or casserole.
Bake at 350°F for about 35 minutes until puffed and golden.
Serve warm or at room temperature.
Serves four (or six small portions).
CHOCOLATE CHIP MERINGUE KISSES
These are the meringue kisses that Smiley remembers from his childhood. They’re very easy, as long as your eggs are at room temperature and there’s not a speck of anything greasy near bowl or beaters and that means not a single drop of yolk, according to Gram.
4 egg whites (from extra-large eggs, at room temperature)
1 cup minus 1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 tsp good quality vanilla
½ tsp almond extract (optional)
⅛ tsp cream of tartar
¾–1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
Preheat oven t
o 225°F.
Beat the egg white with cream of tartar until soft peaks form. Add vanilla and almond. Slowly add sugar tablespoon by tablespoon, beating well after every addition, until stiff peaks have formed.
Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper. Scoop out meringue and shape into “kisses.” Bake in pre-heated oven at 225°F for about 50 minutes. Turn off oven and let kisses dry for at least an hour. Don’t let them brown at the edges. If your oven runs hot, reduce temperature.
Store in a cookie tin in a cool, dry place.
Makes about eighteen depending on size of kisses. They keep well if no one finds them.
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The Hammett Hex Page 27
