by Ellery Adams
“I know what you mean. Especially when it rains, I find it very hard to see the road.” Molly sipped her coffee. “You obviously knew Curtis, since he was married to Galina, and went to school with Felix. What was your opinion of him?”
“I won’t lie. I never liked him. He was arrogant, moody, and full of himself. And he took pleasure in criticizing Galina and Maxim every time they spoke. It didn’t matter what the subject was. If they said the sky was blue, he’d say it was a pale gray. I think, over the years, it wore Galina out. Maxim, of course, was able to move away.”
Molly added a little more cream to her coffee. It was stronger than she was used to. “Why did Galina stay with him?”
Peggy lifted her nose, like she’d caught the scent of something foul. “She took her wedding vows seriously and did her best to make the marriage work.” She doesn’t believe a word of that, Molly thought. “Not that Curtis made it easy for her, mind you. But she had Maxim, and I suppose being a mother became her main focus in life and kept her going.”
“I know about Galina’s parents disowning her when she married Curtis. Did you think it was the right thing to do?”
“No, I thought it was horrible. But I can’t say they were wrong about their assessment of him. He was a good-for-nothing boy, and he turned into a good-for-nothing man.”
Molly didn’t like having to wait for Natasha, but at least Peggy wasn’t holding back on how she felt about Curtis. “Hattie told me Galina confided in you, that you were more like a mother to her than her own. Did you try to talk her out of marrying Curtis?”
“I did more than that, much earlier. I told her not to date him. But she was determined to do things her way. And while it’s true we were close, I knew if I pushed her on it, she might never speak to me again. So, I wished her well and told her I’d always be here for her.” Peggy looked out the window, and they sat for a time in silence. Molly drank her coffee and ate her cake, and when Peggy looked at her again, there were tears in her eyes. “Galina knew she could trust me. I loved her like she was my own.”
“I’m glad she had you in her life. I think she needed someone to love her, especially after the way her parents treated her.” Molly ate the last bite of her cake and pushed the plate aside. “Maxim told me she thought of Felix as the brother she’d never had. But Hattie told me Felix was in love with her. Is it true?”
“Everyone loved Galina. Felix more than most, I suppose, but only because they grew up together.”
“What was Galina like?”
Peggy’s face lit up. “Oh, she was very smart. Always got good grades in school. She excelled at everything she did. She was captain of the high school swim team for four years. Natasha never took to swimming, but Galina was like a fish in water.”
“Really? How tragic that she died in a drowning accident.”
“Yes, well . . . she had her flaws, too. She could be reckless.”
“Is Natasha reckless?”
“No, the girls were very different. There was a twelve-year age difference between them, and their personalities were like night and day. Galina was outgoing, and Natasha has always been quiet and reserved. But they loved each other.”
Molly wasn’t going to take Peggy’s word for it that they loved each other. She’d quickly gotten the impression that Peggy wasn’t going to badmouth either woman, or give her any reason to believe there were problems between them. “What did Natasha think about her marrying Curtis? Did she have objections?”
“You’d have to ask her,” Peggy said.
“I will.” Molly sipped her coffee. She was almost finished drinking it, and Peggy hadn’t offered her a refill. When she reached the bottom of the cup, she had the feeling Peggy was going to tell her it was time for her to go. “How would you describe Maxim’s relationship with his father?”
Peggy set her mug down on the table. “Curtis treated Maxim the same way he treated everyone. With indifference, and an unending amount of criticism, as I said. I didn’t like it, I can tell you that. No one, and especially not a child, should be treated that way.”
“I agree,” Molly said. “Maxim told me when he left home for college he never looked back.”
“Why would he? I don’t think his father even cared that he left.”
“Didn’t he want Maxim to take over the store one day, like he did from his father?”
“I don’t know,” Peggy said. “But what I do know is Galina didn’t want that for Maxim. She was counting on him inheriting her share of the estate when he turns thirty.”
“How did that all come about, if her parents weren’t speaking to her?”
Peggy sat back in her chair. Molly hadn’t lost her yet. She was still willing to talk to her. “When Maxim was born, they asked to see their grandson. Galina agreed, as long as they reinstated her lost inheritance to him.”
Molly was astonished. “She blackmailed them?”
“She compromised with them,” Peggy said. “She gave Maxim the middle name of Gordon, as they wished, and she allowed them to visit with him twice a month. Natasha would collect him, and bring him back when the visitation was over for the day.”
In Molly’s book, this was still a form of blackmail, but she let it slide. It was time to talk about the biggest motive for murder out there.
“I know about the Fabergé egg,” she said. “Maxim told me his mother took it from the Gordon collection, intending to sell it. I also know Felix found a buyer for it, but before Galina went to Florida to meet the buyer, she hid it in her house and no one has been able to find it.”
Peggy’s face twisted into something between a grimace and a scowl. “Maxim shouldn’t have told you about the egg. You can’t write about it. If you do, Natasha will probably sue your magazine, and you, personally.”
Her tone was combative, and Molly realized she hadn’t been a mother figure only to Galina, but to Natasha as well. She loved both girls. What would she do if Curtis threatened Natasha? Would she kill for her?
“Maxim’s worried the egg might have something to do with his father’s death, and I think he could be right. I would think Natasha would want to know who killed him.” She paused to give Peggy a chance to reply, but she was silent. Her motherly instinct to protect all of her chicks had kicked in. Molly lowered her voice, going for a softer tone. “Did Felix need convincing to help Galina sell the egg?”
Peggy sighed. “As a matter of fact, he tried to talk her out of it, because he thought it was a bad idea. It turns out he was right. It’s brought nothing but misery to everyone who was involved in trying to sell it.”
“Maxim told me the price was six million dollars. Once the store was saved, and the bills paid, do you know what Galina and Curtis planned to do with the rest of the money?”
Peggy stared at her. “How should I know?”
“Galina confided in you.”
“She didn’t about the egg.” Peggy’s mouth turned down. “I only found out it was missing when Natasha told me.”
“This was after Galina went to Florida?”
“Yes, after.”
Peggy’s expression hardened and her eyes shifted to the door. Molly wondered if she was lying. She was loyal to the family, and the subject of the egg was taboo. She also wanted her to leave. Any second now, she’d be showing her to the door.
“Do you think Curtis found the egg before he died?”
Peggy shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”
Molly finished her coffee. She had a buzz from too much caffeine and the sugar in the cake.
“Did Galina tell you where she hid the egg?”
Peggy frowned. “No, of course not. If she had, young lady, I would have told Natasha where to find it.”
A wall phone rang, its ringer like a fire alarm, loud and shrill. It startled Molly, but Peggy got up calmly to answer it, clearing her throat before she lifted the handset.
“Good morning, Natasha.” Molly realized it was an internal phone, not a landline. Peggy listened and nodded. “Yes,
ma’am. I’ll have lunch waiting for you. By the way, there’s a woman here to see you. Molly Appleby. She says Maxim arranged for you to meet with her . . . Yes, of course. I’ll let her know.” Peggy put the handset back in its cradle and turned to Molly. “Natasha apologizes. She forgot about your meeting but says she’ll see you now. You’ll need your coat.”
Chapter 12
Natasha had asked to meet Molly at the Gordon Museum. She hadn’t slept in, she’d forgotten about their meeting and had gone to the museum to do some work. Believing the fresh air would be good for her, Molly took a shortcut through the woods, leaving her car in the parking lot. By the time she reached the end of the gravel path, she wished she’d taken the car. What had she been thinking? Even bundled up in her coat, with her hat and gloves on, the damp air felt raw and cold, and the sky was getting dark, the clouds thickening. She hoped she’d make it back to her car before it rained again.
The museum was located in the former carriage house on the property. It was closed for the season, and there weren’t any lights on in the windows. Molly hoped Peggy hadn’t sent her on a wild-goose chase. If Natasha wasn’t there, she was going to be very annoyed. But the door opened when she pushed the bar, and as she stepped inside, she could see a light on in the gallery to her right. As she walked through the gallery, she was surprised to see blank spots on the walls where paintings used to be. She remembered seeing works by Pablo Picasso, Mary Cassatt, and Vincent van Gogh, but they were gone. She wondered what happened to them. Most of the paintings that were left on the walls were Russian works of art, some by well-known artists such as Pavel Filonov and Valentin Serov, but the majority were by obscure artists she had never heard of.
She found Natasha at the rear of the gallery, standing over a long glass cabinet arranging the display inside. When she saw Molly, she said, “I apologize for keeping you waiting. I completely forgot about our meeting.” Her flawless hair and makeup of the other night had been replaced by a sloppy bun, no makeup, and reading glasses dangling on a chain around her neck. She wore a red mock turtleneck sweater over a knee-length black wool skirt and black ankle boots. There were dark circles under her eyes, and Molly thought she looked exhausted. Yet even without all the bells and whistles, she was still a beautiful, elegant woman.
“How are you feeling? Maxim told me about your headache.”
“It’s better today, but I feel numb.” Natasha sighed deeply. “I’m finding it difficult to believe someone murdered Curtis, and that it happened right here at Misty Vale.”
“I won’t take up too much of your time. What are you working on?”
“A new exhibit for our spring opening,” Natasha said. “I found some handwritten correspondence in the archives between Josiah Morton, the original owner of Misty Vale, and his Boston architect, Daniel Ritter.” Molly saw that the correspondence between the two men wasn’t the only set of items on display. Natasha had included some beautiful textiles as well, two colorful quilts, and a small hand-hooked rug with a ring of red roses on a black backdrop. There was also a set of fine bone china dinner plates with a pink rose trim, and a place setting of gleaming silverware. Molly wondered if the silverware belonged to the set Felix had his eye on. Natasha realized she was checking the contents. “Every item in the case belonged to my paternal grandparents. The china and silverware are the first purchases they made after moving into the house.”
“Maxim told me they bought the property in 1920.”
“They did, but the land was originally purchased in 1899 by Josiah Morton, a wealthy Bostonian. He had the manor house built as a gift for his new bride, Emmeline, but she fell ill and died before they could move in. Josiah couldn’t bring himself to live in it, and the house remained empty until my grandparents bought it.”
“I heard you gave your sister the cottage to live in after your parents died. That was very generous of you.”
“Yes, it was.” Natasha’s chin lifted slightly. She was proud of her generosity, which made Molly wonder if hosting fundraisers and offering her sister a home were heartfelt acts or if she did it to appear charitable. As if she knew what Molly was thinking, she said, “The cottage was run-down and needed a lot of work. But they needed a place to live, and I wanted Maxim to grow up here on the estate. He’ll inherit Misty Vale one day.”
Maxim was right about his aunt, Molly thought. He’d told her Natasha cared about her family and protecting the Gordon name. Her sister had needed a place to live, and she’d provided it.
“Was it your Russian grandparents who first started the Gordon collection?”
Natasha smiled. “They wouldn’t like you calling them Russians. When I was little, I told my grandmother I liked her accent, and she scolded me. She said, I don’t have an accent, I’m an American. But yes, they were great collectors, particularly of Russian art, evidenced by what you see around you. They became pillars of the community, too. They were well known for their charitable work. My father picked up the mantle from them, and I’ve continued the family tradition of philanthropic work, doing my best to honor the Gordon name. My parents instilled that in me from a very young age.”
“What about Galina? Did she feel the same way?”
Natasha’s smile vanished. “She wasn’t into art.”
So the answer to that question is a resounding no, Molly thought. Galina didn’t carry on the family tradition. “Maxim told me she used to take him to antique stores, and she was working for Felix at Monkey Paws.”
“Monkey Paws is not an art gallery. Felix has nothing in his shop that can compare to what we have in the family collection. As for my sister, the only antiques or artwork she cared about were the ones with the biggest price tags.”
This is it, Molly thought. The perfect opening. “Is that why she took the Fabergé egg from the collection and not something else, because she knew it would sell for the most money?”
Natasha stared at her. Then she breathed a sigh and said, “I suppose it was Maxim who told you what’s happened.”
“He did, yes,” Molly said.
Natasha frowned. “He shouldn’t have said anything.”
“It could have something to do with his father’s death.”
“I doubt that very much,” Natasha said. “And before I say anything else, I want you to know, I only agreed to talk to you because Maxim asked me to. I love my nephew very much, and I’ll do whatever I can to help him get through this terrible time. But I don’t want it getting out that we have the egg . . . or I should say, had the egg. I have no idea what my sister did with it. I’m very upset that it’s missing. It’s an important family heirloom.”
“What I can’t figure out is why she felt the need to hide it at all. Why didn’t she put it in a safe-deposit box, or leave it with Felix?” Natasha made no reply, so Molly went on. “Maxim said you realized it was missing after she left for Florida. How did you discover it was gone?”
“It was kept in a safe in my home office,” Natasha said. “That’s why I knew Galina took it. She was the only person, besides me, who had the combination. Before I could call her, Curtis called to tell me she was dead. When he told me what they were doing in Florida, how she’d hidden the egg in the house, I couldn’t believe it. Even before he got home, I started looking for it, without any success. Every building on the property has been searched. It’s a nightmare, knowing it’s out there somewhere but not being able to find it.”
The pain in her eyes looked real enough. But was it there because her sister and Curtis were dead or because she hadn’t been able to locate the egg?
“Since Maxim told you what I’m doing, I hope you don’t mind me asking about your relationship with Curtis.”
“I didn’t have a relationship with him,” Natasha said. “He was married to my sister, he was Maxim’s father. We didn’t socialize, or speak often. I’ve kept my distance from him.”
“You didn’t approve of their marriage?”
“I always believed it was Galina’s decision to make, whe
ther to marry him, but I know she could have done better.”
“What did you think of your parents’ disowning her?”
“I thought it was very unkind,” Natasha said. “I tried to talk them out of it, but they were firmly against her marrying Curtis, and I couldn’t change their minds. They didn’t think he was good enough for her, which was true.”
“Do you think if Galina had inherited her share of the estate, and if your parents hadn’t cut off her allowance, Curtis might have tried harder to be a better husband?”
Natasha hesitated a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was cold. “I’m not a psychiatrist. I can’t possibly answer that question. What I do know is Rarus Books never made them enough money to live on, and if it wasn’t for me, they would have been living on the streets.”
“You gave them money?”
“Money, the cottage. I paid for their cars, vacations, Maxim’s college. I gave my sister money to buy groceries. They made very little with the shop, certainly not enough to keep them in the Gordon lifestyle. I wasn’t going to let her, or my nephew, be humiliated.”
No, that wouldn’t do at all, Molly thought. She had to keep up appearances for the sake of the family name. And yet, there was a limit to her generosity.
“Why didn’t you just give Galina her share of the estate after your parents died? Why hold it aside for Maxim when she clearly needed it?”
Natasha frowned, her eyes narrowed, and for a moment Molly expected her to end the interview right there, but she said, “I’ll tell you what happened so you’ll understand the kind of man Curtis was. But you can’t write anything about this. I want your word.”
“You have it,” Molly said.
“All right. When I inherited the estate, I had every intention of giving Galina her money. But first, I gave her a few pieces of our mother’s jewelry. A week later, she came to see me, angry and upset. She told me Curtis had taken the jewelry and pawned it. Fortunately, I was able to buy it back from the pawnbroker, but after that incident, we both agreed it would be better if I didn’t give her anything else. Curtis simply couldn’t be trusted. We decided it was best to stay with the original plan to give Maxim the money when he turns thirty.”
