by Elaine Macko
The woman obviously didn’t know that her husband was dead and I didn’t want to be the one to tell her. I needed to call John. Let the police be the bearer of bad news.
“Have you spoken to your brother-in-law yet?” I asked.
Mrs. Spiegel shook her head. “No. Not yet. I got the first flight this morning and rented a car. I figured if Sheldon was anywhere it would be here.”
“Here? Why would he be here?” I looked over Mrs. Spiegel’s shoulder at the group standing in the hall and shrugged. What the hell was going on?
“Do you have anything to nosh? Some crackers? A bagel? They give you nothing on planes these days. Still charge the same, more, actually, but nothing to eat. Nothing’s like it used to be.” Mrs. Spiegel smoothed down her skirt then crossed her arms in front of her.
I started to say something to Millie, our intrepid office manager, but she was already headed down the hall to the kitchen. She came back with some crackers and cheese a minute later and placed a plate on my desk. She smiled at Mrs. Spiegel, and then rejoined the group by the door.
Mrs. Spiegel kept her eyes on Millie the entire time. “Millie, is it? You look like a nice girl.”
“Yes, she’s a very nice woman, Mrs. Spiegel,” I said, trying to bring the conversation back on track, though I wasn’t completely clear as to what track that was. “You were going to tell me why you thought Mr. Spiegel might have stopped here.”
Jackie Spiegel took a bite of cracker and brushed the crumbs off her skirt. “This is good. Some cream cheese would have been nice, a little lox, but it’s good. Just what I needed.”
“And your husband, Mrs. Spiegel?” I forced a smile on my face and kept my tone even.
“I suppose it’s all my fault. I had breast cancer. I’m fine,” she said quickly, and waved her hand when I started to offer my sympathies. “My mother had it and my sister. So my daughter decided to get checked like that celebrity did because her mother had cancer and died from it. My daughter wanted to see if she was predisposed to get it. I told her not to. Why live with that over your head? Who needs that kind of stress? If she got sick, we’d deal with it, but no. She wanted to know, so she had the tests. She’s not predisposed. We were thrilled. Then the doctor did some more tests. Always with the tests.”
“And they found something? They made a mistake with the first test?” I leaned forward on my desk. This was interesting, but I didn’t see how it could possibly end with a bullet to the forehead of Mr. Spiegel. And what the heck was going on with this woman’s fascination with Millie?
“Yes, they found something all right. I didn’t believe it. I fired that schmegeggy of a doctor. He was making my Andrea crazy. I told her enough, but she went somewhere else. They did all the tests again and they came back with the same result.”
“And what result was that, Mrs. Spiegel?”
Sam and Marla had stepped into the office and were now leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the door from where Millie had taken up her position.
Mrs. Spiegel wiped a tear with a tissue she took from the box on my desk. “That our Andrea wasn’t our daughter. I mean, of course she was our daughter. We brought her home from the hospital and raised her. Everyone says she’s just like me. But the DNA was wrong. They told us she wasn’t ours. I didn’t care. Who cares? She’s our daughter. Has been for twenty-nine years.”
Twenty-nine years? Uh-oh. This wasn’t looking good.
“But Sheldon was obsessed. He started doing all this research. It hurt my daughter. I told him, who cares what the doctors say, and isn’t it a good thing that she won’t get breast cancer? But the man wanted to know what was going on. My Sheldon, he’s a smart one, you know what I mean, but dumb. No common sense is what my mother said.”
“And he came here? Why?” But I was pretty sure I knew why Sheldon Spiegel had come to this office on Monday, and why he had kept looking around like he was waiting for someone. Because that’s exactly what he was doing.
“Because he found our real daughter.” Mrs. Spiegel tapped the nail of her index finger on my desk several times. “I told him our real daughter was in New York, with her husband and our granddaughter, but he wouldn’t listen. So he schlepped up here to meet his real child while I was away.”
Sam pushed away from the wall. “And who is your real daughter, Mrs. Spiegel?”
Jackie Spiegel turned to look at Sam and then turned her head and stared at Millie. “It’s her. The one with my hair. She’s our daughter. The one with the same DNA.”
Millie’s pale skin went pure white. “Wait…What? I’m your daughter? My name’s Millie Spiegel? Oy Vey.”
And then she fainted.
CHAPTER SIX
No one heard John and Gerard and Annie arrive. We were all huddled over Millie. Marla ran to the kitchen and came back with a paper towel drenched in cold water. I kept patting Millie’s hand and calling her name. I wasn’t overly concerned at this point. Millie had fainted before, something to do with low blood pressure, but still.
“What’s going on? Oh, God, is Millie okay?” John pushed by me and took Millie’s wrist, checking her pulse. Then he touched her cheek and kept saying her name over and over.
I looked up and saw Gerard and Annie. “Oh, my gosh! You’re here.” I jumped up and gave Annie a big hug and then turned toward Gerard and gave him one as well, while Sam greeted Annie and introduced her to Marla.
“Excuse me. Hello?! My daughter should lie here while you’re having a party?” Mrs. Spiegel said, and we all turned.
“No, of course not. I’m so sorry. Millie. Millie, are you okay?” I said, once again kneeling by Millie’s side.
“Her daughter? What the hell is going on here, Alex?” John asked.
I gritted my teeth and shook my head.
“Alex, what happened? Why am I on the floor?”
“Oh, Millie, you’re going to be okay. You fainted. Remember?”
Millie shut her eyes for a moment and then opened them again. “I did?” She sat up and looked around the room. Her eyes came to rest on Mrs. Spiegel. “Oh, no. I’m not going with her. Alex, she is not my mother. She’s crazy. You’re crazy,” Millie said directly to Jackie Spiegel.
I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Spiegel. Millie, you’re not going anywhere. This is all a horrible mistake. Besides, you’re a grown woman. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
John stood up and then helped Millie up. Sam pushed a chair over and Millie sat down and then scooted the chair a few inches away from Mrs. Spiegel.
“Okay, would someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“John, this is Jackie Spiegel. Mrs. Sheldon Spiegel. Mrs. Spiegel, this is my husband, Detective John Van der Burg of the Indian Cove Police.”
“Mrs. Spiegel, we’ve been trying to get in touch with you.”
“Well, good, because I’m looking for my husband. He was headed here and I haven’t heard from him since. Maybe you can help me find him.”
John glanced at me. “Alex, is there somewhere I can speak with Mrs. Spiegel in private?”
“What do you mean, in private? What’s going on? Where’s Sheldon? What the hell has he done now? And anything you need to say to me, you can say in front of my daughter,” Jackie Spiegel said, with a nod in Millie’s direction.
Millie jumped up from her chair. “You’re crazy! Do you hear me? Crazy!”
I sighed. “Mrs. Spiegel, why don’t you go with Detective Van der Burg. We’ll get you another cup of coffee. Or maybe a tea. A tea would be good right about now.” Millie looked at me and mouthed the words, no way. “I’ll get you a cup of tea and bring it in. Would you like that? And how about some more crackers and cheese?”
“No!” Jackie Spiegel was on her feet. “I want to know where Sheldon is. What the hell has he done? The man’s a putz. Did I tell you he’s a putz? My mother warned me. Don’t marry that schmuck, she said.”
I clasped my hands together and looked at John with a pl
eading look.
“Have a seat, Mrs. Spiegel,” John said.
Millie gave the widow a disgusted look and went to stand with the audience by the wall. My little office was very crowded.
John sat down in the seat Millie had vacated and moved it closer to Mrs. Spiegel. “I’m sorry to inform you, but your husband was killed some time on Tuesday.”
“Killed? What do you mean he was killed? Someone hurt my sweet Sheldon?”
“I’m afraid so, Mrs. Spiegel. He was shot.”
“Shot! Sheldon was murdered?”
“Yes, he was. I’m so sorry,” John said in a soft voice.
Jackie Spiegel let out a wail to equal that of any banshee, and then she fainted. Marla ran back to the kitchen for another cold towel. My sister hung her head and shook it back and forth, and Millie crossed her arms and put a scowl on her face.
Over in the corner, Gerard Willix, Belgian police detective extraordinaire, a man who loved a good murder as much as I did, clapped his hands together, put a smile on his face and said, “eh bien!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I can’t believe my father is dead. Again.” Millie dabbed at her eyes. “I never got to know him and now I never will.”
Sam and I exchanged looks.
“Millie, you do realize this is all a mistake,” I said. “You have a mother. Judith Chapman. Remember her? And a grandmother.”
“Then why does that woman think I’m her daughter? Huh? Why?”
“Yeah, Alex, why?” My sister wasn’t helping.
John, with Gerard hot on his heels, had taken Mrs. Spiegel to the station to try and figure out this whole mess. Marla and Sam had gone out for sandwiches, and we were now all gathered in my office, having some lunch and sharing a large pot of tea that Millie had made.
“There’s a perfectly good explanation for all of this. I just haven’t quite figured it out yet.”
“Well, there’s one way to find out.”
We all looked at Marla, the newest addition to Always Prepared, and a welcomed voice of reason in the chaos that can sometimes reign in my office. Like now.
“How?” Millie asked.
“Millie, you need to have a blood test. Your mother should get one, too, and that’ll confirm that Judith is your mother, not Mrs. Spiegel. Very simple and then you’ll know for sure.” Marla reached over and patted Millie’s hand.
“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea. I’ll call the doctor right now.”
Millie’s face scrunched up and her eyes filled with tears.
“Millie, are you okay?” I asked.
“That woman’s daughter is the same age as me. Mrs. Spiegel has darker hair, too, like mine, and my mom’s is lighter, almost blond.”
I waved my hand. “Look at me and Sam. The whole family has brown hair and Sam’s is light.”
We all turned to look at my sister, including Annie, who sat quietly off to the side eating her sandwich.
“What? It happens. I have light hair and look at my son. He’s got wavy, rich brown hair. And believe me, he’s mine. I was there when he popped out. Millie, hair color means nothing,” Sam said, though I could see that she was thinking about it. I should probably call my mother and tell her to dig out my sister’s birth certificate because I had a feeling Sam was going to want to take another look at it.
“But something had to lead that guy, and now his wife, to this office, to me. How do you explain that? I’m not sure I want to have any tests. Maybe it’s just better not to know.”
No one said anything. How did we explain all that had happened? Mr. Spiegel clearly came here looking for Millie. That’s why he was so vague about what he wanted from the agency. He didn’t want anything. He came just to see Millie, but she wasn’t here. How did his search for a daughter with the same DNA lead him to Millie Chapman? This wasn’t looking good.
I leaned on my desk. “Millie, John will find out what’s going on. And then we can go from there. And listen to me. No matter what happens, your mother and your grandmother are your mother and your grandmother. Nothing’s going to change that. If you found out they weren’t your biological family, would you feel any differently?”
“Of course not! You know how close we all are. It’s just been the three of us since my dad died. And now we have Reuben,” Millie said, referring to her boyfriend, with whom she now lived. “We’re a family.”
“Exactly. And nothing’s going to change that. So let’s wait to hear what John finds out before we do anything.”
We finished up our lunch and then everyone cleared out of my office leaving me alone with Annie.
“I’m so glad you’re here, but I’m so sorry all this happened and it ruined your arrival. We’ll do something fun tomorrow, and tonight we’ll have a lovely dinner and catch up,” I said to Annie in way of an apology. “Is there something special that you’d like to see or do?”
Annie Willix was a tiny woman with brown eyes and hair she had pulled back into a knot at the base of her neck. She adjusted a fashionable pair of eye glasses and looked at the jar of M&M’s on my desk. I pushed them toward her and watched her take a large scoop.
She took a couple into her mouth and smiled. “These are good,” she said. “I like them.”
“Compared to Belgian chocolate you probably find them bland, but I love them. Too much, unfortunately. So. What would you like to do? A few days in New York? Mystic Seaport? Shopping?”
Annie leaned forward, her eyes bright. “What I would really like to do, Alex, is help you solve this crime like you did the one in Belgium. It would be fun, no?
I leaned back in my chair and smiled. “It would definitely be fun.” And with her husband helping mine, there was no room for the guys to complain about the two of us sticking our noses in the murder.
“We are only here a short time, and Gerard, mon Dieu, he will be working hard on this. He is relentless. We need to find out why that man died before Gerard and John do. What is it the Americans say, game begins, or something like that?”
I looked at Annie. I had only met her once, as we were leaving for the airport to fly home. I knew next to nothing about this kind woman who was a nurse, helping others. She obviously had a bit of a competitive streak, and if solving a murder was what she wanted to do with her vacation, who was I to argue.
“Game on. That’s exactly what we would say. Game on.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Annie and I decided to keep our plans to solve the murder to ourselves. No sense in upsetting the guys. I’ve heard all of John’s admonishments before and they haven’t done any good so far and wouldn’t change anything now. I just let him rant until he gets it all out of his system and then I go right back to solving the crime. And besides, I had a guest to entertain and this is what she wanted to do, and I was nothing if not a good host.
“John’s going to grill some steaks when he gets home,” I said to Annie. We were seated in my kitchen after I had given her a tour of the house and shown her to her room, where I let her get settled. “I’ve already made garlic mashed potatoes. I just need to sauté the Brussels sprouts with some onions.”
“It sounds delicious. And I love your home, Alex. It is very comfortable. Gezellig.”
“Gezellig?”
“It means cozy in Flemish. Confortable in French, but I have always liked the word gezellig.”
I poured some tea into Annie’s mug and then looked around my cozy kitchen. “Gezellig. I like it and we do have a cozy home. John put a lot of work into it, and then I added a few touches when I moved in. It is nice and we’re happy here. Of course, there was a murder in the library, but after my family helped John to redo the room for me, I feel okay about going in there now.”
“Mon Dieu! You had a murder in this house?”
I told Annie all about the party from hell I threw shortly after I moved into the house, and hoped she didn’t want to go to a hotel. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you. Are you okay staying here?” I asked.
Annie g
ave me the Belgian shrug. “It is nothing. I am a nurse. I have seen death many, many times. And Gerard? We must tell him. He will be thrilled. Did you solve that crime as well?”
I nodded. “Yes, I did. It was an interesting case and I’ll have to tell you and Gerard all about it one night.”
Annie took a sip of tea and then placed her mug back on the table. “Alex, how did this man, this Mr. Spiegel, obtain a sample of Millie’s DNA?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea. As far as I know he never met her. Maybe he followed her and somehow managed to get a sample off of a coffee cup or something. Millie stops a couple times a week at a coffee shop for one of those fancy drinks. They do this all the time on TV, though I’m not sure how well it works in real life.”
“He would have to follow her for some time, no, to understand her movements?”
“Yes, he would. And according to his wife, he hadn’t been in town long. I think I watch too much TV,” I said, as I put the sprouts into a large bowl. I love Brussels sprouts and with some onions and spices and a few pieces of chopped bacon, they’re one of my and John’s favorites. I admit the bacon helps. Everything is better with bacon. Maybe I should start adding some to our kale salads.
“And he would have to have access to a lab to run tests,” Annie continued. “They are not cheap and they take a long time.”
Annie’s accent was adorable and her English was perfect. She even pronounced the th sound correctly. I guess all those summers visiting their friends in Massachusetts must have helped. Once again I was amazed at the language skills of Europeans.
The door from the garage opened and John and Gerard walked into the kitchen.
“Sorry, we’re late,” my husband said, placing a kiss on my cheek. “After getting Mrs. Spiegel’s statement, we took her to the morgue for a positive identification.”
