Laced

by Carol Higgins Clark

  Guess not, Regan thought.

  “When was the show?” Jack asked quickly.

  “I know exactly when it was!” Michael volunteered quickly. “It was last Monday night. My birthday. I went back to my dormitory after having a couple of pints with my friends to celebrate. It was late, and I flipped on Gerard’s show. I never listen to it, you know, uh…because…because—” he stammered, looking to recover “—because I’m usually studying or asleep.”

  “Last Monday,” Jack repeated. “Eight days ago. Which means that if it was Jane Doe calling to ask where we were staying or even if the Does just heard the program, then they were in Ireland a full week before the burglary. That gives us something to go on. And if they were here for the race last November, maybe this is where they like to spend time.”

  “Galway is a lovely city,” Gerard said, nodding. He reached over toward Michael. “Do you recognize any of these names?

  The young lad took the piece of paper and looked at it quickly. “I do!” he said with exuberance.

  “Who?”

  “Eamonn and Donna Byrne.”

  “And who might they be?”

  “They’re the parents of a friend of mine at university. The Byrnes live in Dublin and came to visit my friend for the weekend. Jody never gets out of bed before the crack of noon, so her parents decided to run in the race Sunday morning and meet her for brunch afterwards. I saw them at the race. They walked most of the way.”

  “You don’t know the other couples?” Gerard asked.

  “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

  “Michael, what can you tell us about the Fun Run?” Jack asked. “We have reason to believe that Jane and John Doe might have participated.”

  “Ah, let’s see,” Michael said. “Well, you know, it was a different kind of race. A lot of laughs and good fun, actually. One woman ran with her baby pram—”

  We heard about that, Regan thought.

  “—and groups of friends ran together to raise money for different causes. Some people got their elderly parents out there. One guy who had to be about sixty was walking with his mother. I heard her yell at him to zip up his jacket. It was pretty funny. It turns out he’s a dentist in town, and she works in his office.” Michael laughed. “A friend of mine went there once and said he’d never go back for fear he’d have to wear dentures before he was twenty. The dentist is a frustrated stand-up comic.” He paused. “Nothing really crazy happened the day of the race. The only excitement I recall was when a high school kid threw up at the finish line. He ran as hard as he could instead of pacing himself. That’s about it.”

  “Okay then,” Regan said. “I’m sure Jane and John Doe made it a point to blend in with the crowd. They’re middle-aged and in good shape. The last thing they want to do is attract attention.”

  Michael shook his head. “It sounds like blend in they did. I wish I had more to tell you.”

  “And we wish we had more of a description of them,” Regan said. She rolled her eyes. “We just learned from the girl who signed up the last-minute runners that there’s a possibility our John Doe has a very strange laugh.”

  “A friend of mine just broke up with a girl because her laugh is so god-awful,” Michael said fervently. “And she’s absolutely stunning. She’s a fine bit of stuff, I tell you! It’s such a pity, but my pal couldn’t take it anymore. I told him I’d be willing to put up with it for at least a couple of dates.—”

  “Thank you, Michael,” Gerard said. “You can go back to work now.”

  “Cheers,” Michael responded as he gave Gerard back the list and walked out the door.

  Gerard sighed. “If I caused you this trouble, I’m terribly sorry,” he said. “I really mean that. The crime rate in Ireland isn’t bad, and I never thought—”

  “Don’t worry about it, Gerard,” Jack said with sincerity. “We have no way of knowing if that’s how they found out we’d be here. And if it is and we nab them, then we’ll have you to thank for drawing them out of their lair. You don’t know how much I want to put those two behind bars. They’ve stolen from so many good and generous people. Lately they’ve gotten more daring, and this time they set a fire that could have been deadly.”

  “I’m going to make sure everyone in Galway is on the lookout for the Does,” Gerard promised. “If they’re here, I’ll make sure they won’t rest easy. I’ll have them looking over their shoulders every minute.” With a determined look on his face and the list of names in his hand, he picked up the phone.

  With the help of the staff at the radio station, it took only thirty minutes to determine that Joe and Josie Cullen were schoolteachers who had driven up from the Dingle Peninsula on a whim early Sunday morning to join the race. They took pictures to bring back to their students, anxious to teach them that exercise can be fun and it’s never too late to start any new venture.

  “And Brad and Linda Thompson,” Gerard reported, “bought a home last year in a little village south of Galway. Their number is unlisted. As of yet, we haven’t come up with any other information about them.”

  “It’s a good start,” Jack said. “We’ll take a ride into the village now and look around. Gerard, do you think you could get copies of the pictures those teachers took at the race? If they have e-mail, maybe they can scan the photos and send them to you. It might be helpful.”

  “I’ll get on it right away,” Gerard said.

  “And, Gerard, do you have a tape of last Monday’s show?”

  Gerard looked a little embarrassed. “I’ll have my assistant get the master from the tape library and make a copy. I promise not to edit the parts where I, uh, talked too much, shall we say.”

  Regan smiled. “We just want to hear the woman caller’s voice, the one who asked about where we were staying, that’s all.”

  As they walked out of his office, Gerard put his arm around Regan. “Try not to be late for Louise’s Irish stew,” he joked. “We’ll have ourselves a good meal. Afterwards we can stop in town for a pint at one of the pubs playing music and then come over here to do the show.” He paused, and his tone turned serious. “If the Does are still somewhere around Galway, we’ll find them. And we’ll make their lives miserable.”

  He needn’t have been concerned on that score. Just outside of town, the Does’ lives were getting more miserable by the minute.

  24

  Knuckles white from gripping the arms of Dr. Sharkey’s dental chair for dear life, Bobby was planning his revenge on the security guard who knocked out his teeth after he and Anna had stolen an antique necklace from a department store in Nanuet, New York, last Christmas. They had made it out the door and into the dark snowy parking lot before the salesclerk, momentarily distracted, realized one of the estate collection necklaces she had shown them was gone. Hearing someone shout “Stop them!” Bobby and Anna began to run toward the car. Anna flew into the driver’s seat, but a burly guard caught up to Bobby and grabbed his arm as he was getting in the car. Bobby hit the hulking man in the face with his free fist, and the guard returned the favor with a punch that landed squarely on Bobby’s mouth. Enraged, Bobby pushed the guard as hard as he could, which normally wouldn’t have been effective, given the guard’s size, but the man slipped on the icy pavement and fell. Bobby jumped into the car, Anna floored the gas pedal, and the car screeched out of the parking lot, slipping and sliding.

  Stealing that necklace was a stupid, impulsive thing to do. They certainly hadn’t planned it. They were shopping for a special present for Anna’s mother, who had been complaining that they didn’t visit her enough. The salesclerk made it too easy for them to walk off with the sapphire and diamond necklace. Being who they were, they couldn’t resist.

  And for their trouble, Bobby ended up minus four front teeth. Each of the carefully planned jobs they had pulled off before that provided them with jewelry worth a couple of hundred grand, and not a scratch on them. The Nanuet necklace was valued at $10,000 retail, which, after paying off Dr. Favorman, left enough
for an ice cream soda.

  Anna’s mother lived in upstate New York. They had promised to visit her and stopped at the mall to buy her Christmas present. Explaining to her why they suddenly couldn’t make it home for Christmas had been a challenge, but explaining Bobby’s missing teeth would have been harder. They decided to head across the country and put as much distance as possible between the scene of the crime and a trip to the dentist. They dropped off their rental car at the after-hours lot in New York City and boarded a bus to Pennsylvania, where they rented a four-door sedan. Christmas dinner was eaten in a truck stop. Bobby dined on soup and apple sauce. They arrived in Los Angeles to find everyone gone for the holidays and spent a week in a hotel waiting for the highly touted Dr. Favorman to return from St. Bart’s.

  All for a necklace that meant so little to them.

  Bobby really wished he could turn the nitrous back on. He was feeling depressed and scared. There was nothing remotely cheery in the harsh little treatment room, nothing at all to lift a patient’s spirits—except, of course, the tank of nitrous, that was now off-limits.

  “Your dentist has talent,” Sharkey allowed. He was bent over a side table, stirring a grayish paste with a steel utensil. Bobby thought he looked like a mad scientist. “Where did you say the man is based?”

  I didn’t, Bobby thought, but he had to give an answer. “He’s in New York.”

  “‘New York, New York, what a wonderful town,’” Sharkey sang. “Mother and Dad and I went there years ago. It was a brilliant trip. Brilliant.”

  “Um-hmmm,” Bobby said.

  “If I get back there, I’d love to watch your dentist in action. He’s a master.” Sharkey straightened up. “I’ll fix you up with this temporary cap. It should hold you till you get home. Now open wide…”

  Bobby closed his eyes while Dr. Sharkey pushed the cap up against his stub, then picked and poked and prodded inside his mouth.

  “Voila!” Sharkey finally announced. “Take a look.”

  With great trepidation Bobby opened his eyes. Dr. Sharkey held up a mirror to his face. Bobby grimaced at his tired reflection, made worse by the harsh fluourscent light overhead, and then smiled. A big bulky chunk of matter, resembling an oversized and slightly faded kernel of corn, stood in stark contrast to the rest of his Hollywood smile. He had to squelch the impulse to scream, jump out of the chair, and throw Dr. Sharkey against the wall. I look like Goofy, he thought desperately. But he knew he couldn’t make a scene. It was too dangerous with Jack Reilly on his tail.

  Dr. Sharkey was smiling expectantly. “Now I have to remind you that this is temporary. If you want me to complete the job and make you a permanent cap, I’d be more than happy to. The lab work will take a little time.”

  “No,” Bobby said immediately. “Thank you, but no. We’re flying to Los Angeles, and I’ll see my dentist—”

  “Didn’t you say your dentist was in New York?”

  “He is,” Bobby insisted. “He is. We had plans to go to Los Angeles first.” Get me out of here, he thought. He yanked the bib off his chest. “Thank you, Dr. Sharkey.”

  “Take a sample of this paste,” Sharkey instructed. “If it falls out, and I don’t think it will, just…”

  If it falls off, I’ll consider myself lucky, Bobby thought desperately.

  Sharkey opened the door to the waiting room. “Mother will take care of you.”

  Anna jumped up from her rickety chair. One look at Bobby’s face, and she knew things weren’t good.

  “He’s all set to go,” Dr. Sharkey said cordially, walking over to the reception desk.

  “They’re paying cash,” Mother Sharkey announced.

  Dr. Sharkey scribbled on a form and handed it to his mother. “We don’t accept cash!”

  His mother nodded almost imperceptibly, having heard this joke at least a thousand times. “We have an emergency coming in. Don’t put away your special paste. It’s another broken tooth.”

  “This is our day for emergencies!”

  Anna quickly paid the bill and escorted a strangely silent Bobby out to the car. Before turning on the ignition, Anna turned to him. “Let’s see.”

  With a crazed look in his eye, Bobby lifted his upper lip.

  Anna tried to keep a straight face. “It’s okay—” she began.

  “It’s not okay!” Bobby yelled. “It’s horrible. I look like Goofy. We’ve got to get a flight out tonight.”

  “No!” Anna said. “You’ll be fine for the next few days. I have something very exciting to tell you.” She started the car. “We have one more job in Ireland that will make us very happy and”—she added with a laugh—“Jack Reilly very unhappy.”

  “I want to go to Los Angeles,” Bobby insisted as they drove down the block.

  “No, Bobby. Listen to me for a minute. They recently discovered priceless Claddagh rings…”

  Inside the dental office, Dr. Sharkey poured himself a cup of tea from the shamrock-covered thermos.

  “How’s Daddy?” he asked his mother who, surprisingly, was engrossed in a program offering tips on home decorating.

  “I checked on him a little while ago. He’s fine.”

  Upstairs in the living room, Seamus Sharkey was sitting near the window, unseen by people in the street. He passed his time reading detective novels and watching the clients who ventured in and out of his son’s dental practice. Ever since a walk-in client had bolted without paying six years ago, he made sure to write down the license plate numbers, makes, and models of every patient’s car. He also recorded his impressions of the patients themselves.

  Too many dishonest folks in this world, he thought. You can never be too careful. During dinner he liked to hear about all the people Danny had treated that day. Danny told such funny stories about them. He couldn’t wait to hear about the two who had just left, but he didn’t think their story would be funny. It looked as if the guy had started yelling at the woman he was with as soon as they got in the car.

  Seamus leaned forward. Another car had pulled into the driveway, and an older woman was being helped out of the backseat. It seemed odd that a casually dressed yet upscale-looking young couple would be driving around in such a beat-up old wreck. Once again Seamus picked up his notebook and pen from the table next to him.

  They don’t need a security camera with me around, he thought proudly. Danny boy is so good to us, I wish I could be of more help to him. Who knows? he thought. Maybe one day, even if it’s after I’ve passed, these notes will be helpful.

  25

  Keith Waters had been at the office since early morning. He had slept fitfully, aggravated by the fact that Jane and John Doe were ruining Jack’s honeymoon. I’m going to do everything I can to track them down, he told himself.

  The results of the inquiry into the credit card the couple had used at Hennessy Castle weren’t surprising. It was another case of stolen identity. The Does, armed with the social security number of one Earl Norton, had ordered a credit card in Norton’s name and had it sent to a P.O. box in Suffern, New York, last month. Suffern was less than an hour’s drive from New York City.

  So they were in this vicinity not very long ago, Keith thought. But there’s no chance they’ll darken the doorstep of that post office again. They have probably cut the credit card in half by now. He sighed. Identity theft was becoming an epidemic, making it that much easier for people like the Does to keep on the move.

  Keith looked over their file. Besides the event at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that Regan and Jack had attended last year, the Does had also left behind their calling cards after heists in Chicago, Miami, Birmingham, Dallas, Atlanta, London, and Sydney. I guess they’re not multilingual, Keith thought. It appears they’re only comfortable operating in English-speaking cities. Let’s hope for the Parisians’ sake that they don’t take up French.

  Their modus operandi was always the same. They would attend expensive charity galas using false names, pay for the tickets with a fraudulent credit card, and then
disappear like Cinderella after they had made their mark. And also like Cinderella, their appearance would change dramatically after the big ball. Jack and his team had worked hard to find a link between the stolen credit cards but had no luck. Keith continued to read the file.

  The people who ran the events always remembered a lovely couple who melted into the crowd and then never took their places at dinner. The woman was variously described as blond, brunette, redheaded, or white-haired, but always around five feet six inches tall and always fashionably dressed. The man had blond hair, brown hair, or gray hair and was five feet ten. Sometimes they wore glasses, sometimes colored contact lenses. Sometimes, it seemed, they padded themselves to look heavier. They were always unfailingly polite. No one who welcomed them to the exclusive soirees would suspect that the couple gushing about how pleased they were to become active in another charity were a couple of brazen criminals.

  Hennessy Castle, though quite unlike the other jobs, was their ninth known hit in seven years. Keith re-read the notes in the file. He and Jack both thought the Does were committing other crimes they were not taking credit for. There were so many cases of lost or stolen jewelry that remained unsolved—such as the recent theft at the charity gala held the week before Christmas at the Bridges Hotel in New York City. A woman had discovered her priceless diamond and ruby pin was missing when she and her husband were retrieving their coats at the end of the evening.

  “I suppose it could have disappeared during the cocktail party. I just don’t know,” the woman had said, tearfully.

  No calling card had been left, but it still may have been the Does’ handiwork. If they were in town for the holidays, they might have wanted to pull off a job to get themselves in the Christmas spirit. They might even have been staying at the Bridges. Security was often lax at some of the exclusive galas held at big hotels. If someone hadn’t bought a ticket for the event, it would be obvious that person didn’t belong there when it came time to be seated for the dinner. But anyone who dressed the part could slip in during the cocktail hour, have a drink and an hors d’oeuvre, and snatch a purse on his way out the door.