Rest in Peace

by Frances Devine

  “It seems your professor has grouped the documents according to their content. Why don’t we start with the letters? Perhaps they will reveal the information you’re looking for.”

  She took the first letter and read it aloud. A gasp from Miss Georgina spoke pretty well what I felt. The letters were written to Clyde from two different men in Germany. Apparently they worked for Jack Riley’s import/export company. Each letter contained instructions concerning shipments of merchandise being smuggled to Pennington House. The earlier ones mentioned Miss Aggie’s father. It became clear he had been receiving stolen property from Germany for several years before he died but thought he was dealing with legitimate merchandise. Forrest had caught on and brought Clyde in with him because of his knowledge of the language, as well as his almost idol worship of Forrest. They made a deal with the smugglers, who’d contacted those in charge in Germany. Clyde and Forrest became couriers, and after the elder Mr. Pennington died, they took over the illicit business.

  “Victoria, you were wrong about Jack Riley. Listen to this.” As she continued to read, it was apparent that Jack Rileyknew nothing about the illegal actions of his employees, but they were sure he was starting to suspect something. There was a warning in two of the letters to be careful of Jack Riley.

  Relief washed over me. I’d been wrong about Phoebe’s uncle. I wished I hadn’t wasted so much time suspecting him. Miss Evalina’s voice was a little hoarse, so I asked her if she would like for me to continue.

  Frank looked at me. “Here, why don’t I take over?” When I nodded, he reached for the papers. “These appear to be bills of sale, as I mentioned before.”

  He scanned one, then the other. “Yeah, they’re bills of sale and receipts for items purchased. Looks like they were copies of originals.”

  Martin sat on the edge of his chair and snorted. “Will you get on with it? What are they for?”

  Ignoring his friend, Frank allowed his eyes to roam over the page.

  “Frank.” Miss Evalina got his attention.

  “Nearly all jewels. A painting or two. Furs.” He whistled. “Listen to this. One choker-type emerald necklace. A large heart-shaped emerald on a gold chain. Two emerald bracelets. One set of emerald earrings.”

  “The Pennington emeralds.” Miss Georgina’s awe-filled whisper was loud enough for all to hear.

  I shivered. Who did they belong to? Where was their owner now? Visions of a gas chamber, stacked high with victims of the Holocaust, bombarded my mind. A pit, with men and boys standing at its edge, while black-clad men pointed rifles at their heads. Every picture I’d ever seen of these victims attacked my mind. The room started to spin.

  “Victoria.”

  “Wh–what? Oh, sorry.”

  “It’s all right, dear. I thought for a moment you were going to hyperventilate.” Miss Evalina’s calm voice soothed me.

  Miss Georgina nodded, her silver curls bobbing. “That happened to me once. It was in the late forties when I first heard about the atrocities against the Jewish people. I almost passed out.”

  Miss Jane sighed. “No one talked about it back then. It was too horrible to think about, much less mention. I think the whole world tried to forget. It took a book by a man named Leon Uris to remind us that it had really happened.”

  “I wonder if the sheriff got his copies of these translated yet.” Martin’s practical voice brought me back to the present.

  “I don’t know. I guess I should find out and give these to him if he didn’t.”

  “Let me call him,” Frank said. “He won’t yell at me.”

  I smiled, and Frank got up and went to the phone. A few minutes later he was back, grinning.

  “He doesn’t have them yet. You know how slow the department is. When I told him we had the translations, he about came unglued. I didn’t tell him you were the one who’d had them, but he seemed to know anyway. Said he’d pick them up on his way to work in the morning and you’d better not let anything happen to them.

  “In that case, I’ll guard them with my life.” I tried not to appear nervous, but I was quaking inside. I shouldn’t have kept the copies. Maybe I’d better give the other copies to him, as well as the translation.

  The phone rang, and I went to answer it.

  Miss Aggie snapped, “Victoria, is that you?”

  “Miss Aggie, it’s so wonderful to hear your voice.”

  “It’s very rude to answer the phone and not give your name.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I won’t do it again. When are you coming home? We miss you.”

  “Yes, so I hear. You’ve been putting up a fuss about me, too. I don’t know why a lady can’t go on a trip without everyone thinking she’s kicked the bucket. I’m not a child, you know.”

  “I know, and I’m very sorry if I’ve offended you.”

  “I guess I’m not offended. I’ll be home tomorrow. Make sure my rooms are aired out and clean.”

  As if I’d have allowed her rooms to get dirty. “Yes, Miss Aggie. I’ll do that.”

  “Good night, then.”

  I giggled. Apparently her little adventure hadn’t dampened her spirit. I relayed the message to the seniors. Then a thought crossed my mind. It was obvious to me that Jack Riley had suspected something was wrong at his place of business. Had he discovered the smuggling activities? I wondered if the sheriff would take him into his confidence and show him the letters and documents. If not, Mr. Riley might go on indefinitely trying to uncover the truth.

  I went to my office and called him at Phoebe’s. When he heard my voice, he apologized for canceling our meeting.

  “That’s quite all right. Phoebe explained about the business trip.” He didn’t need to know I thought he made it up.

  “Oh good. Perhaps we could make it another time.”

  “Actually, I thought it would be nice if you came to dinner sometime soon.”

  “I’d be delighted. Name the day.” He chuckled. “My niece is an excellent cook but tends to repeat the same menu over and over again,” he whispered.

  I laughed. “How about Saturday night?”

  “I’d be delighted.” He sounded like he meant it.

  “Mr. Riley, I need to tell you something.” I swallowed.

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “I came across some documents and letters written in German and had them translated. Some of them made mention of you. The sheriff is going to pick them up in the morning and take them to his office. I thought perhaps you’d like to see them.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  A sense of foreboding fell on me as I polished the floor in the great hall. I tried to shake it off by blaming it on the darkness that hung ominous and threatening over the lodge. The storm had hit around 4:00 a.m. and had continued sporadically throughout the morning and early afternoon. I started as the grandfather clock chimed. Then once more. Two o’clock already? I backed out through the door, into the foyer and stood up. A long-ago memory surfaced, and I laughed. I’d decided to surprise Grandma by waxing the great hall while she was out shopping. When I realized I’d waxed myself right into the corner by the bay window, I’d hopped onto the window seat and spent the rest of the afternoon reading The Password to Larkspur Lane, which I’d left on the window cushion the day before. My favorite Nancy Drew book in those days. I still had the collection, inherited from Grandma. Maybe, someday, I’d take another trip down Larkspur Lane.

  A loud clap of thunder reverberated through the house.

  The weather forecaster had warned of tornadoes in the area, so the seniors had decided not to brave the elements. They’d spent most of the day in the rec room, watching movies and playing dominoes.

  I decided I might as well do the foyer since I was stuck in the house, but I’d need more wax.

  As I passed through the kitchen on my way to the basement, Mabel sighed.

  I nodded. “I know. The weather is awful. You probably should have stayed home.”

  “If I’d heard about the tornado w
atch, I probably would have. But no use crying over spilt milk.”

  I went down the steps to the basement and grabbed more wax and buffing cloths. I should probably get an electric buffer, but Grandma had always done the waxing on her knees, so it was good enough for me. Buster whined from his pallet in the corner.

  “What’s the matter? Are you lonely down here?”

  He came toward me, tail wagging, and rubbed his head against my leg. I reached down and scratched his ear. “Sorry, boy, I have more floors to do. Maybe later.”

  He lumbered back to his blanket and lay down.

  Miss Jane was in the kitchen preparing a tea tray. She looked up as I came through the door. “Georgina and I decided to have a cup of tea. I have a feeling you could use one, too.”

  Mabel grumbled. “I told her I’d make it.”

  “But you said you need to go to the store before the storm hits again.”

  “I have time to make a pot of tea,” Mabel retorted.

  I rolled my eyes. Miss Jane had done a lot of the cooking after Corky left and before Mabel showed up at the door. And she still did a lot on Mabel’s day off. Hence, she felt like the kitchen was her domain. Sometimes, the friendly rivalry approached a little too close to unfriendly.

  Mabel turned to me. “If you don’t need me for a while, I’ll go on to the store. I should be back before Sarah gets here, but if I’m not, you can make her wait in the kitchen.”

  I smiled. “Or she can wait in the parlor and visit with us until you get back.”

  She nodded and reached for her coat.

  Miss Jane cleared her throat. “You are so right about me needing a cup of tea, Miss Jane. Where are the others?”

  “Eva and Frank went upstairs. Martin’s snoring on the rec room sofa. Between his snoring and the shoot ‘em up he was watching, Georgina and I decided to have our tea in the parlor.”

  I chuckled. “I don’t blame you. Here, let me take that tray.”

  I followed her into the parlor and put the tray on the coffee table.

  Miss Jane picked up her cup. “Did I hear Buster whining?”

  “Yes, I guess he thinks he’s in trouble because I won’t let him come upstairs.”

  Miss Georgina giggled. “Remember the day we brought Buster home?”

  I gave a short laugh. “How could I forget? His filthy paws landed on my chest, nearly knocking me over. I seem to recall it took you and Miss Jane both to get him off me.”

  Miss Jane nodded. “Then Corky found the blood on Buster. If only we’d known he’d been with Aggie, maybe he could have led us to her that very day.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to travel down that memory lane. “Yes, but we found her anyway. And all’s well that ends well, as they say.” And, thank the Lord, Miss Aggie was well this time, too.

  Miss Georgina sighed. “I wonder what time she’ll be home.”

  To be honest, I’d expected her before now. “Don’t worry. She’ll be here.”

  Lightning flashed through the room, and thunder boomed. A downpour of rain beat against the roof and windows. There was loud pounding on the front door, followed by the ring of the doorbell.

  I ran to open the door before whomever it was got drenched. A raincoat-clad figure, hat pushed down low, shoved past me and yanked a gun from somewhere, shaking it in my face.

  “Where are the documents?” The shrill words pierced through me as I realized who stood there.

  “Christiana? What are you doing?”

  She laughed. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m pointing a gun at your face, and if you don’t get those documents, I’ll blow your head off.”

  “What documents?” Perhaps I could stall until I came up with an idea of what to do.

  “Don’t play games with me, Victoria Storm. I know my mother brought the documents to you before she left town. And there must be something about the treasure in them. I haven’t searched this long to let someone else have them.”

  Realization hit me. “You’re the one who shot at us at Pennington House?”

  I heard the kitchen door close softly.

  Christiana started. “What was that noise?”

  “What? The thunder?” Was Mabel back so soon? My heart jumped. Or…was it already time for Sarah to be here? Please, God, keep them both away.

  “Victoria, who was…” Miss Georgina stood in the parlor door with her mouth hanging open.

  Christiana, her eyes wild, waved the gun at me. “Get in there. Who else is here?”

  I stepped over to Miss Georgina, took her arm, and walked with her into the parlor. Miss Jane stood in the middle of the room, eyes wide.

  The three of us sat on the sofa against the wall while Christiana stood in front of us with the gun.

  “Now,” she shouted, “I want those documents. They belonged to my grandfather, and they’re mine.”

  “I’m sorry. I turned them over to the sheriff a couple of days ago.”

  “Don’t give me that. I heard you talking to my mother about the sheriff. You don’t like him, and you wouldn’t have given them to him.”

  At this moment, the sheriff would be my best friend, if he showed up. But that wasn’t likely to happen. My heart froze. Miss Aggie. What if she came in while Christiana was holding them at gunpoint? Would the girl shoot her? For that matter, she might fire on any or all of them at any time. I prayed Frank, Miss Evalina, and Martin would remain asleep.

  “Christiana, while it’s true the sheriff and I don’t always get along, he’s still the law around here, and I did give him the documents. I couldn’t read them anyway because they were in German.”

  The girl’s lips trembled, and for the first time, uncertainty filled her eyes. Then in a split second, rage filled her eyes. “You’d better not be lying to me.”

  “You can call him if you like.” I tried to sound calm, while inwardly my stomach churned and my heart pounded.

  Her hands began to shake, and I feared the gun might go off accidentally. Could I risk trying to knock it from her hands?

  Over her shoulder, I saw Martin creep up to the door with a heavy vase in his hands. No, no, Martin. If she hears you, she’ll shoot.

  He drew closer and closer. He raised the vase above his head. His sharp intake of breath was so loud I heard it from the sofa. Christiana whirled around. I launched myself at her, knocking her to the floor.

  She screamed, and the gun went off. I grabbed at her hand, trying to get a grip on the gun. My fingers wrapped around her wrist, and I squeezed. Martin grabbed the gun as it dropped from her hand.

  She screamed again. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

  Martin aimed the pistol at her. “Young’un, you don’t have the gun anymore. How are you gonna kill anyone?”

  “Okay, I’ll take over from here.” Sheriff Turner and Deputy Lewis charged through the door, their sidearms drawn. Miss Aggie thundered past them and threw her arms around Miss Jane, then Miss Georgina.

  Jack Riley stood in the doorway, but Benjamin shoved his way past him and hurried to take me in his arms.

  “Are you all right?” His eyes scanned me from top to toe, searching for injuries.

  “I’m fine, Ben. Except for my nerves. But why did you all get here at just the right time?”

  Sarah’s tiny form slipped around Mr. Riley. “Me and Miss Aggie called them.” She stood in front of me, her thumbs in her jeans pockets. “I saw someone push you and shove their way in the door when I was walking from the bus, so I sneaked in the kitchen and listened. Then I ran out the back door just as Miss Aggie pulled up. I didn’t know who she was, but I ran over to the car.”

  Miss Aggie nodded and looked at Sarah with admiration shining from her eyes. “The child was shaking so hard I could barely make out what she was saying, but she’s a very brave and determined little girl.”

  Sarah giggled. “Yeah, I was shaking pretty good, but then I told her what I saw and heard. She called the sheriff, and we sat in the car until he got here. I wanted to come
back in to make sure you were okay, but Miss Aggie wouldn’t let me.”

  She rocked back and forth from heel to toe, her eyes shining. “Did I save you?”

  I reached for her, and she came close and let me hug her. “Sarah Carey, you did indeed save me. You’re my hero.”

  We stood together and watched as the sheriff snapped handcuffs on Christiana and took her away.

  A charge of excitement ran through the lighted parlor. We’d called in for pizza, since the meat loaf Mable had prepared wouldn’t have been enough for everyone. After we’d eaten, we went into the parlor. The seniors stared at Jack Riley expectantly. Benjamin and I sat on one of the love seats, leaning forward so we wouldn’t miss a word. Was the manwho’d been the focus of my suspicions for so long going to reveal all the secrets he’d held through the years? And if so, would the strands of mystery surrounding Pennington House finally become unraveled?

  He leaned forward, his hands pressing against his clenched lips. He drew a deep breath and sat up straighter. “It’s hard to know where to begin. This happened so long ago.”

  No one spoke or hardly seemed to breathe.

  “You see, all I ever wanted was to build the business and take care of my family. Then, when Hitler began his insane vendetta against the Jewish people, my focus was on helping as many as possible. Through my connections in England and the United States, I was able to transfer a great deal of money and valuables for some. But when things got worse and people began to disappear, I knew I needed to concentrate on getting as many people out of the country as possible. Most left Germany with only the clothing on their backs.

  “I still wanted to help with their assets, so I chose two of my employees, Frederick Heffner and Thomas Schmidt. Men who had been with me for a number of years. I taught them how to move the funds and property.”

  He coughed and cleared his throat. I picked up a pitcher of water and filled his glass.

  He drank deeply and thanked me.

  “I’m not sure when they decided to smuggle the goods for personal gain. I do know, in the beginning, legitimate transfers were made. After the war I began to suspect something dishonest was going on. In the autumn of 1950, I found evidence. When Heffner and Schmidt discovered Iwas on to them, they disappeared. I’m quite sure they had prepared ahead of time for just such a possibility.