Charlie shook his head, strands of gray hair slapping his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? Then tell me how Mr. Rudin’s key came to be on your ring.”
“It’s a master key. I told you as much the night you found the key under the crystallizing machine.”
Jasper couldn’t help the smug grin inching across his face. He looked to Denny, who was rocking back and forth on his heels, squinting at him.
“You didn’t ever tell Charlie where you found the key. You just asked to see his.”
“Brilliant, Denny. You were paying attention to the details.”
The boy’s fingers went to his chin. “So, how did you know it was him?”
“I didn’t want to believe it was you, Charlie. I truly didn’t. But soon it became too sure to deny.” Jasper held up one finger. “First, the mess in the laboratory. You claimed the spill happened during the break-in, but if it had been hours since the spill, it wouldn’t have needed a mop. Your shoes were sticky from the sugar water, which indicated the spill had been recent and you had tracked through it. That also explained why the mop trail went to the window and to the door. You were covering your tracks.”
Charlie clamped his mouth shut.
Jasper lifted a second finger. “Each incident could only have been perpetrated by someone with a key since no tampering or breaking in was evident. I became more suspicious when the newspaper reported details on the hair contamination that only the three of us would have known.”
Stosch clicked his tongue. “Now wait a moment, someone who did the deed would have details on the mess.”
“True, but not details on the cleanup as well.” Lifting a third finger, Jasper stepped closer to Charlie. “When the machines mysteriously broke down, you just happened to be around with a wrench to match the missing nuts, which I spotted in your janitor closet later.”
Charlie’s hands fisted in the cuffs. “None of that is enough to pin such serious accusations on me, Hollock. You’re in a mad guessing game.”
“Fourth, you were the only person in the factory after the riot and before the night shift when the machines fell apart. Fifth, and most confirming of my suspicions, is the key.”
“The key is mine. It proves nothing more than my occupation as janitor. A fact you should know well. This whole thing is ridiculous. I am the one who alerted you to the break-in and incidents, yet you blame me?”
“You had a sack of hair dumped into the machine when you heard Denny and me coming. In your rush, you dropped your key. Fortunately for you, you heard it drop and knew it would be a sure way of getting caught if you didn’t have your key in a matter of minutes when I called on you, so you went to Mr. Rudin’s office to get his.”
“You can’t prove it’s not my key.” The janitor’s face turned red as a streetcar. His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“I can.” Jasper reached into his coat pocket, pulled out the blue-threaded sack, and bent to Charlie’s level. “The only thing left for you to tell us is how much Wiles Sugar paid you, Judas.”
“I’ve worked for Rudin year after year, and he’s never given me anything more than a pat on the back and ham for Christmas. Wiles offered me a management position, something I could never attain here.”
“Well, you’ve attained a jail cell for sure, and if you ever get released, I doubt anyone other than the devil himself would hire you.”
Charlie jerked his wrists away and let out a yelp.
“Don’t make a fuss. These handcuffs have spring-released pins activated by sudden movement. And the acid injected by the pins will burn more with increased body heat. The more you struggle, the more pain.”
With a strong finger on either side of Charlie’s neck, Jasper lifted him to his feet. “Stosch, ring down to the station and have the police come pick him up. We’ll need both you and Denny to sign witness statements.” He paused beside Denny and lowered his voice. “If I let you ride in the paddy wagon, can we be friends again?”
The dimple appeared on Denny’s cheek. “Is that as close to an apology as I’m gonna get?”
“Don’t push it, kid.”
“All right, I’ll take it. You better be glad your sidekick is so forgiving.”
With his free hand, Jasper spread his palm over the boy’s cap and gave it a whirl.
Chapter Eighteen
“So old Charlie did all this to me?”
The betrayal in Uncle Rudi’s voice was painful. Jasper sighed. “Well, at least we caught him.”
“The poor man will be spending Christmas in jail.” Mr. Rudin reached over and tapped the notebook on Jasper’s lap. “Tell Stosch I want to send his family dinner and some gifts for the children.”
There was no end to the kindness in this man’s heart. Jasper jotted down the note and looked up. “That covers Mrs. Rudin’s gift, what you want brought down for the day, and Charlie’s family. Anything else?”
A mischievous twinkle lit in the old man’s eye. “Yes, Jasper must ask Miss Leslie to join him for Christmas dinner. Whether she gets released today or not.”
One of Jasper’s brows quirked up. “Are you ordering me to ask her for a date?”
Uncle Rudi grinned and folded his arms across his chest. “Somebody’s got to, or you’ll be a grumpy bachelor forever.”
“I think Denny’s bending your ear.”
Jasper stood, but Mr. Rudin grasped his sleeve. “Write it on your list, Jasper Hollock, or I’ll fire you by Monday.”
Dash it. Why was everyone so determined to see him hitched? He sat back down, took a deep breath, and rested his fists on the notebook. “Tell you what, we’ll make a deal. If you will take your wife out on a date, romance her the way you did back in New York, then I will ask Miss Leslie to join us for Christmas dinner in the hospital lounge.”
“Done.”
“But you have to treat Mrs. Rudin gallantly. Expensively.”
Uncle Rudi picked up the newspaper from the side table and swatted Jasper’s arm. “I said I’ll do it, now get over there and ask Miss Leslie.”
Heat already crept up Jasper’s neck, but he stood and shoved the notebook under his arm. “Fine.”
He stalked down the rows of beds and toward the south wing. It wasn’t likely Bet would still be in hospital tomorrow, and even if she was, it would be a friendly and cordial gesture to ask her to join them. Hardly a date.
Or would Miss Leslie see right through that facade? He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to or not.
Jasper stepped into the ward and immediately spotted her. She was sitting up, her long brown hair falling around her shoulders as she focused on the nurse and Denny at the end of her bed. Her hazel gaze flickered to him as he approached.
“If you follow those instructions closely, you shouldn’t have any complications. But be careful not to overdo yourself through the holiday, Miss Leslie.” The nurse gave her a firm glare.
“At this point, I’m just glad to be home for Christmas. I’ll be good.”
“Mrs. Yale will make better on that promise than your patient, nurse.” Denny bent his head toward her. “But you can be sure she’ll be in good hands.”
“Very well, then. Here are your discharge papers. I assume someone will be picking you up?”
“Mrs. Yale will be around shortly. Thank you.”
Jasper smiled at Bet as the nurse walked away. She clutched the bedsheet as a clamped-lip smile held in her excitement. “Breaking free of here, are you?”
“Thanks to Mrs. Yale’s offer to look after me for a couple of weeks while I recover.”
He grasped the iron bed frame. “What about your sister? Don’t relatives usually do that sort of thing?”
“Of course, they do.” Miss Leslie crossed her arms and leveled her green-tinted gaze at him. “Georgie would love to, but her small house is already filled with children. She wouldn’t have room for me.”
Something about her answer didn’t sit right, but Jasper decided to let it slide. Wouldn’t b
e wise to get into an argument when he was about to ask her to dinner. “I was going to ask if you’d like to join us for Christmas dinner. The Rudins are arranging for a special meal in the lounge for the occasion.”
“How kind of them to think of me.”
Jasper cleared his throat and tried to avoid Denny’s stupid grin and teasing eyes. “Well, I hoped it would cheer you up if for some reason you didn’t get to go home.”
Miss Leslie tipped her head and squinted at him from the corner of her eye. “That…was thoughtful…I suppose.”
She supposes. Women are insufferable.
“Unfortunately, I’ll have to decline. The kids at the orphanage visited yesterday, and I promised them I’d be there before the stockings were filled.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want to disappoint them, would we?” He let go of the bed frame and stepped back, hoping his ears weren’t as red hot as they felt.
Denny’s snort said they were.
“Of course, if you aren’t too busy after your dinner with Mr. Rudin, you could always stop by the orphanage. The children would love to have a detective to bombard with questions. And I could do with some mature conversation by the end of the day.”
A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Well now, Miss Leslie, I think that’s the nicest string of words you’ve ever said to me. But, I wonder, could that be considered a date?”
She tilted her head and rested her index finger on her chin. “Mmm, no. Definitely not a date.”
“Oh.” The urge to grin disappeared.
“I thought about it, though.” She lifted one shoulder, and the gold speck in her eye glinted. “Only for a split second, but that is something considering I hated you last week.” Her chuckle—almost a giggle—lightened the blow.
Jasper flashed Denny a grin. “Something, indeed. Well, my pride is wounded, but at least I have ‘something’ to work with.”
Denny tipped his head back and let out a hearty laugh. “You bet.”
The End.
Thank You for reading!
As a special thank you, I’ve included a free excerpt of my other Christmas title, The Swaddling Clothes. Turn the page to read!
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The Swaddling Clothes Free Excerpt
Chapter One
Circa 980 B.C.
King David drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. The merchant’s monotone voice had been echoing off the cedar walls of the judgment hall for more than an hour. If he whined the words unfair taxes one more time…
“So you see, your highness, these taxes are relatively unfair when considering—”
“Enough!” David’s irritation boiled over.
The merchant stumbled backward. His scalded pride evidenced by the scarlet flushing of his round face.
Something squeezed in David’s chest. The merchant wasn’t the sole reason for his foul mood, and didn’t deserve to bear the worst of it. “I’m sorry.”
He wiped his forehead. Being the king of Israel was not what he’d hoped. He should be leading his army against the Philistines. Instead here he was, in his luxurious palace, listening to the endless and petty complaints. 1
Ahithophel clapped his hands. “The king has heard enough of your whining for today. Come back later.”
David stood and ran his hand through his hair. Loose curls twisted around his fingers. He paced for a few moments before looking up. Amnon, his oldest son, glared over his shoulder as the aide shooed him out of the hall.
“Ahithophel, it’s all right. I can…”
“My lord, their prattle is irritating me as well. It can wait until the morrow.”
David ducked out the side exit, into the corridor to the private part of the palace. He stopped, inhaling the comforting scent of cedar, and waited for his aide.
Ahithophel slipped through the door and closed it quietly. His expression was tentative when he faced David.
“I am sorry, Ahithophel, but I am not cut of this pattern. I am the type of king who leads armies into battle, who destroys enemies, a king with a sword constantly by my side.” He motioned to the warrior’s blade hanging from his belt. “I love my people, but I cannot bear sitting here listening to their petty arguments while my army marches.”
“My king, you know we can no longer risk you getting killed in some skirmish. Your sons are still young, and you have not yet determined a successor for your throne. If you were to fall in battle, Israel would be left in disarray.”
David stepped closer to him and whispered through clenched teeth. “I can’t do this. It’s hard enough to stay here cooped up like a child, but listening to their trivial prattle day after day is more than I can stand.”
Ahithophel gave him a sympathetic smile and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Take the remainder of the day to rest. Walk the gardens with your new wife, eat a good meal, refresh yourself. You’ll feel better tomorrow.” He smiled again and disappeared down the hall.
Taking a deep breath, David wandered into the garden and wove through the trees and flowerbeds until he neared the fountain surrounded by pomegranate trees. The rich red fruit contrasted with the soft green of the olive leaves. The trickle of the water fountain and the sweet sound of turtledoves cooing soothed his soul. He should have brought his harp, for a psalm was bubbling up within him.
Standing in the midst of all this beauty was one not to be compared to it. With her emerald eyes set in a complexion of pearl, and ringlets of ruby cascading down her back. Bathsheba. He had loved her since the moment he saw her. His heart had sinned for her, bringing the wrath of his righteous God upon them. But although God had taken their baby, He had not denied him Bathsheba. 2
Stepping beside her, David slid his hand into hers and gave it a tight squeeze.
“A rough day for my king?”
David groaned. “I am tired of being king. Can’t I be something else for today?”
Bathsheba turned around. Her green eyes met his, and a smile curved her lips. She lifted his hands and placed them on her belly. “Then be Abba today.”
The breath caught in his throat. “You’re…”
Her giggle and nod assured him it was so. Wrapping her in a tight embrace, he lifted her off her feet and whirled around in a circle. Finally setting her down, he placed his hands on either side of her face. “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel who has chosen in His great mercy to bless us. The child will be a son, and he will inherit my throne and reign over the house of Israel in peace and prosperity. There will be no one like him in all the world.”
His wife’s eyes sparkled in the light streaming through the trees. “Yes, our son will be a special child.”
“When he is born, I will hold a feast a month long. The armies will rest from fighting to celebrate the birth of the prince of the house of David.”
A frown contorted his wife’s face. “But, if we announce at his birth that he will be your successor, won’t it put him in danger?”
David’s hands fell to his sides. He hadn’t considered that. “You may be right. There must be another way.” How could they appoint this child as the successo
r without endangering him? He could wait to announce it until later, but what if something happened to him in the meantime? No, wouldn’t do. They had to come up with some sort of symbol. Something that wouldn’t reveal the secret until the proper time. Something almost prophetic.
An idea ignited in his mind. Grasping Bathsheba’s hand, he tugged her toward the palace. “Come. We have lots of work to do.”
“David, what are you talking about?”
“My son will not be wrapped in ordinary swaddling cloth. No, this prince is unlike any other child and must be treated as such. We will have cloth woven for him on the looms of Egypt, Sheba, Assyria, and every nation on the earth. At his birth, we will wrap him in swaddling clothes so magnificent no one will be able to deny his royalty. At my death, I shall decree that the son who possesses that certain cloth will be my heir. It will evade the danger, yet make it clear who I desire my heir to be. Quickly. We must find Ahithophel and have him gather merchants from every corner of the city.”
*****
Maacah pressed her back against an olive trunk. Had she really heard right? All expected this new, young wife of David’s would soon be with child, but how could the child of a commoner—a wife acquired through murder and iniquity—possibly be named the successor to the throne above her own son? Absalom was a beautiful child, beloved of all who knew him, third born, and of royal blood. What disgrace and insolence for David to consider this woman’s son over Absalom. No, this could never be.
She peeked out from behind the tree as David led Bathsheba toward the palace. “Something must be done. That woman’s son will never reign over Absalom.”
Her thoughts raced like wild stallions as she darted toward her son’s chambers. She didn’t know how, but she would blight this plan to usurp Absalom’s throne. Starting with the swaddling clothes.
*****
David threw open the door to his aide’s chamber. The energy he’d lost when his army marched from Jerusalem without him had returned. It felt good, and he was ready to commence his project.
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