“I think we need to talk to Harry Davis.”
Laura hadn’t been to Bacchanal since Harry had become the manager. She knocked and the peephole opened, allowing Laura to show her card and give the password, which she hoped was still the right one. Someone unlocked the door and she and Erich went right in.
A few people were at the bar, drinking openly. They found Harry in his office, which had once been Virginia’s office. It felt strange, seeing him at her aunt’s desk. When he saw Laura he got up and kissed her cheek.
“Laura, my dear. What brings you here?” Then he noticed Erich and gave him a polite but cool smile. “And you, Mr. Muller?”
“We need to ask you about a man named Rudy Strauss. Do you know who he is?”
“Can’t say that I do. Why do you ask?”
Laura told him what had happened
“Wish I could say that I knew who Rudy Strauss is, but I don’t.”
“Are you sure about this, Mr. Davis?” Erich asked, flicking one eyebrow.
Harry set his feet apart and crossed his arms. “Mr. Muller, I never liked you or your attitude. But I’d never do anything to hurt Laura. If Virginia ever found out that I had, it would be too damn bad for me.”
***
Five minutes after Laura and Erich walked out of Bacchanal, Harry dialed the overseas operator. Virginia picked up the phone on the other end.
“We were just going to have a can-can contest, Harry.” He could hear laughter in the background. “Think of what you’re missing.”
“We may have a problem,” he said.
“Like what?”
He told her about Laura and Erich’s visit.
“You did the right thing. They can’t know. Not yet.”
“He’s a damn good reporter. He’ll find out. You can’t keep them in the dark forever.”
“I can and I will. And you’re going to help.”
“How?”
“By destroying anything that connects us in any way to Strauss. Understand? They can’t know anything until I find Todd.”
“Any leads?”
“I’m working on it.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Where was Rudy Strauss? That was the question weighing on Ben Wilson’s mind in the days following the discovery of Rudy’s fingerprints on Todd Austin’s toy. Was Rudy the kidnapper? To answer the second question, he’d have to answer the first. And right now answering either one seemed impossible.
Working out of the second precinct in Manhattan, Ben spent days going through missing person’s files, and each time he came up empty. He decided to go under the assumption that Strauss was the kidnapper and tried to put himself in Rudy’s shoes. The file on Strauss wasn’t big, but he knew enough about him to know he was a punk whose main goal in life was to make a quick buck. To a guy like Strauss, half a million dollars was the jackpot. Wilson assumed Strauss had spent it as fast as he’d gotten it. By now he wouldn’t have much left. He’d be looking for his next big touch.
Virginia Kingsley’s people denied it, but Ben had the feeling Strauss was tied to organized crime. At first he’d planned to subpoena their records, then decided he didn’t want to make them suspicious. But how else could he get the information about Strauss that he needed? He tapped his fingers on his desk, thinking. He could think of one person who might be able to help. He dialed Willow Pond. The maid told him Mrs. Austin was staying with a friend, and gave him Muller’s phone number.
Laura answered the phone on the second ring.
“Mrs. Austin, it’s Wilson here. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“Not at all.”
“Good. I need you to do a favor for me. This might seem strange, but I feel it’s important. It’s connected to your son’s case. Do you have access to your aunt’s office at Bacchanal?”
“Yes, I have a set of keys.”
“Is anyone else there at this hour?”
“No. Harry opens the place between 2:00 and 3:00 in the afternoon. Why?”
“I want you to get over there as fast as you can and look for any information on Rudy Strauss. Do you understand? You have to be quick and thorough. Can you do that?”
Laura started to put her shoes on. “Do you think Rudy Strauss kidnapped my son?” She flipped through her address book, searching for the car service she always used. “Wait a minute. The baby. I’ll have to bring her with me.”
“I’ll send a man over and you can give him the keys, if it’s too much trouble. But it’s imperative we find out more about Strauss.”
“No, I can do it. It will be fine.”
For the next hour and half, Wilson kept himself busy going through more missing person’s files. Ate half a pound cake and drank three cups of coffee. By 11:30 he was ready to go to Bacchanal himself, fearing he’d made a mistake sending a woman on a man’s errand. By 11:45 he was headed out for a squad car when a taxi pulled up in front of the station house. Laura Kingsley held her wailing baby in one arm and carried a manila folder under the other.
“I have to get this back by tomorrow morning,” she said.
They went inside and he showed her where she could change the baby. He made a fresh pot of coffee then flipped through Strauss’s folder while she tended to the baby. He didn’t have to read much to learn Strauss was from the San Francisco area.
Laura wrapped the baby in a blanket, then sat down and gave her a bottle. The infant drank a little and fell asleep in her mother’s arms.
“You know,” Ben said, “you’d make a good cop, Laura.”
She grinned mischievously. “I don’t know about that, but it was kind of fun. Did you find the information you were looking for?”
“We’ll find out soon.”
He picked up the phone and dialed the S.F.P.D. The call was transferred to the squad commander, and Wilson told him about finding Rudy’s fingerprints on Todd Austin’s toy. He heard an audible gasp on the other end of the phone.
“I’m not sure,” said the squad commander, “but I think Rudy Strauss was murdered.”
“What?”
“About six weeks ago we found the badly decomposed body of a thirty, thirty-five-year-old male at a house on Jones Street. Turns out the house belonged to one George Strauss, whose nephew, Rudy or Randy Strauss, had been missing for a few months. I bet if you send me a copy of the fingerprints there’ll be a match.”
“I’ll send them to you. Did the medical examiner take any photographs of the corpse?”
“Yeah, but it’s not a pretty sight.”
“Send them. I’ve got some good mug shots of Strauss. Maybe someone will be able to give a positive ID.”
“You think he kidnapped the Austin kid?”
“Could be. But you’ve got your own crime to solve.”
“I do?”
Wilson couldn’t believe how dense the man was. “Yeah. You have to find out who killed Strauss.”
***
When Erich got home that night, Laura told him what had happened that morning. She was noticeably upset about the fact that Rudy Strauss, a known criminal, seemed to have some connection to her aunt.
Erich was bothered by something else. He picked up the phone and dialed the second precinct. Within seconds Wilson picked up the phone.
“What the hell are you doing sending Laura to do a cop’s job?” Erich demanded. “Are you trying to get her killed?”
“Take it easy, Muller. We figured if someone came in and caught her she’d be able to make up some excuse about why she was there. We had a man watching the place the whole time.”
“You’re a liar.”
“Think what you want.” Wilson glanced down at the post mortem photographs of Rudy Strauss. “That girl has more guts than you do. Tell her again that I said she did a great job.”
Erich’s voice rose. “Don’t you dare use her again, do you hear?”
He slammed the phone down and turned around, coming face to face with a furious Laura. She clutched a can of spaghetti sauce in one hand
and looked as if she wanted to throw it at him.
“Why did you have to make such a big deal out of it?”
“Because it is a big deal, that’s why. Wilson did a stupid thing, putting you in danger that way.”
“I wasn’t in any danger. I’d never have taken Rachel with me if I thought I was. Harry knew Virginia had given me keys to the place and if he’d found me there I already had an excuse made up.”
“The baby was with you?”
“Yes, she was. And we both did fine. You have to start trusting that I know what I’m doing.”
Erich squeezed his hands against his head and held them there for a moment before lowering them and forcing himself to relax. “I’m sorry, Laura. It’s just that I love you and Rachel so much I can’t stand the thought—” He took her hand. “I’m sorry. Really. So what did you find out?”
“It looks like Rudy Strauss was murdered. Wilson is trying to make a positive ID. The worst part is that he had some connection to Virginia. Because of that, we have to go to London as soon as we can. I want Virginia to tell me what she knows about Rudy and about Todd’s kidnapping, if anything. And Erich, when we’re through with all this, if you were right all along, you can go ahead and say ‘I told you so’.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Four days later they left for London. Erich managed to get a month’s leave of absence by making the excuse that he was chasing down some important leads in the Austin kidnapping and by promising the Herald Tribune daily updates. Both he and Laura were brokenhearted about having to leave Rachel at home, but chasing down a kidnapper’s accomplice wasn’t the sort of thing a six-month-old baby could be part of. Besides, Laura knew Rachel would be safe in Iris Nickerson’s care. As an added security measure, Ben Wilson assigned cops to guard Willow Pond twenty-four hours a day.
Their plane landed at just after 3:00 in the afternoon and a taxi dropped them off at their hotel. The flight had been long and bumpy and they both were exhausted, but Laura didn’t want to waste any time. She wanted to see her aunt immediately.
They left their suitcases at the hotel and settled into another of London’s spacious taxis, then headed to Kingsley’s. She had wanted to call Virginia and tell her they were coming, but Erich didn’t think it was a good idea to give her advance notice.
The door was unlocked. When they went inside they saw Virginia speaking to a man they didn’t recognize. She turned and glanced at them, but didn’t seem to recognize them. She turned back and went behind the bar where she began counting bottles. When they approached the bar, she looked at them again. This time her eyes widened with surprise.
“I thought my eyes were fooling me,” she said, smiling. “But it really is you. Didn’t you get enough of rainy London when you were here before?”
Her voice didn’t sound right. ‘Guarded’ was the word Laura would have chosen. She felt suddenly uncomfortable in front of the woman who had raised her. The one woman she had always trusted above everyone else. But there was no way to avoid this conversation.
“We need to talk about Rudy Strauss,” Laura said bluntly.
Virginia couldn’t look at her, and Laura feared what that meant. She was relieved when Erich took her hand and told Virginia they needed privacy. Virginia nodded shortly and led them to her office. Laura had never seen her aunt look apprehensive before. It was a disturbing thing to see. It didn’t last long, however. By the time they’d walked into her office, Virginia was her old self: calm, confident and serene.
“Tell us what you know about Strauss,” Laura said.
Virginia’s brow creased and she rolled her eyes toward the ceiling as if trying to remember. “Rudy Strauss. The name’s sort of familiar,” she said, returning her gaze to Laura’s, “but I don’t know who he is.”
Erich removed his notepad from his jacket pocket and jotted a few things down. Virginia glared at him. “What is this? Are you here to interview me, Mr. Muller?”
Erich glanced up at her but kept writing. “Can you tell us why you had a personnel file on Strauss at Bacchanal?”
She shrugged. “He must have applied for a job there.” She turned to Laura, frowning. “I’m curious about how he found that information.”
“Actually, he didn’t. I did,” Laura said.
Before Virginia could object, they told her about finding Todd’s sock and toy mouse on Willow Pond, and about the matching fingerprints. Then they told her about the corpse found on Jones Street in San Francisco and Wilson’s belief that it was Rudy.
Virginia clicked her tongue dismissively. “Wilson has no idea what he’s doing. It could be anyone.”
“The age and size fit the description we have of Strauss.”
“Did you ever meet him?” Laura asked.
The phone rang, but Virginia made no move to answer. “Whoever that is can call back. Did I meet him? I don’t know if I ever did. I might have, but if I did I don’t remember him. Maybe Harry would know. Have you spoken to him?”
Laura nodded, feeling increasingly uneasy. “Yes. He told us he had no idea who he was.”
Erich glanced around the room. “This office is nicer than the one you have in New York. You do know how to live. You always have.”
“Thanks for the backhanded compliment.”
“You’re welcome. Okay. Well, there are three things we know for sure,” Erich said. “One is that Rudy Strauss was at Bacchanal at some time, because we found his signature on a piece of paper in your office. The second is that his fingerprints were on Todd’s toy. The third is that Todd was playing with that toy the day he was kidnapped. Now you tell me, Virginia. What you think that means?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe you just don’t want to say.”
Virginia’s smile was demure. “Think whatever you want.” She turned to Laura and touched her arm, back to the caring aunt Laura had always known. “It’s wonderful to see you, Laura. Under any circumstances. Now I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a large party coming in tonight and I have to make some preparations in advance. Why don’t you stop by later on, and we’ll have dinner together?”
Laura smiled, desperate to believe her aunt, but unable to stop wondering about her possible connection to Rudy Strauss. She decided it might be a good idea to meet up with Virginia a little later on. She might have come up with new information by then. “I’d love to, but I’m tired. I just want to get back to the hotel and relax this evening. How about tomorrow? Maybe we could have lunch.”
“That sounds fine. You’re welcome to tag along, Mr. Muller. That is, if you can tolerate my company for an entire meal.”
On their way outside they argued about Virginia. Erich hailed a cab and held the door open for Laura, then climbed in the other side. All they way back to the hotel they argued about what Virginia’s connection to Rudy might or might not be.
They ordered tea and scones from room service and headed upstairs to their suite. Laura slipped her high heels off and put on a pair of slippers, and Erich removed his jacket and tie. By the time room service arrived they were both relaxing on the couch, arguments pushed to the side for now. Moments later they were sipping tea and munching on scones with cream and strawberry jam.
“We didn’t really come here about Virginia,” Laura said. “At least I didn’t. We came here to find Maggie Pierce.”
“Yes. That’s right. And we’ll go to the police tomorrow.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Maggie worked late on Tuesdays, so Dennis walked the two miles to Terri’s place to pick up Andy. Maggie’d asked him to bring the boy back to their flat. She’d also asked him to start dinner. He’d had to sell his car because he was so low on cash, and he wasn’t in the best mood, but he knew Maggie needed help and he liked her too much to refuse.
It started to rain a couple of blocks from her house, so he was glad to see the kid already waiting outside, wearing a slicker and rain hat. Terri stood beside him, holding his hand.
“Tell Maggie I’ll ri
ng her tomorrow,” she said as Dennis departed with Andy.
They walked three blocks to the bus stop, and Dennis was glad he’d listened to the weather report before he’d left. He’d brought an umbrella with him and kept telling Andy to stay under it with him, but the child kept dancing around him, playing with the red and yellow yo-yo Terri had bought him.
The bus finally pulled up, and Dennis breathed a sigh of relief. He handed the driver a three-pence and the driver smiled down at Andy, who was still mostly interested in the yo-yo.
“Where’s your mate Andrew?” asked the driver.
“Home with his mommy.”
“Where’s your mommy?”
The little boy frowned. “Working.”
By the time they got home it had stopped raining, so Dennis helped Andy change clothes and sent him outside to play. Dennis lit the cooker and put chicken and potatoes into a roasting pan, then slid it all into the cooker. When he was done, he carried the newspaper with him to the living room couch.
The headlines were all about Winston Churchill having been elected prime minister. Dennis wasn’t interested in politics. He turned a few more pages and stopped at an article about a movie star named Phillip Austin.
“The actor is no stranger to tragedy,” it said. “It has been nearly a year and a half since Austin’s only son, nineteen-month-old Todd, was kidnapped from his estate on Long Island, New York. He and the boy’s mother, Laura Kingsley, from whom he is recently divorced, have never given up hope of finding their son. The actor’s publicist says the memory of their little boy remains painfully clear in their minds.”
Dennis and a couple of friends had actually talked about the Austin kidnapping a few days before. They all figured the baby was dead or else he’d have been found by now. They also felt certain the crime was connected in some way to Virginia Kingsley’s bootlegging activities. But as long as the child remained missing, the case would stay open.
Willow Pond Page 25
