Fleeced

by Carol Higgins Clark

  And come to think of it, I have just the one.

  He put through his second call to England that day.

  “Thorn,” he said into the phone. “I suggest you get over here on the last flight out tonight. We’ve got work to do this weekend.”

  26

  Regan and Stanley cabbed it down to the converted gas station.

  Now I’ve seen everything, Regan thought as Stanley escorted her inside.

  “What do you think?” he asked with a big smile. “Other people convert warehouses into palatial apartments. I turned a gas station into a cozy home.”

  “You’re a genius,” Regan said.

  “Thank you. Please sit down.”

  Regan sank into the couch, still amazed at her surroundings. She’d seen a lot of crazy abodes in her day, but this one took the cake.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” Stanley asked.

  Fill ’er up, Regan wanted to say, but thanked him and accepted a cup of special herbal tea that Stanley assured her cleared everyone’s sinuses. I’m not really sure I want my sinuses cleared in this place, Regan thought. But the tea did taste good.

  Stanley sat down and slipped one of the tapes from the party into the VCR hooked up to his big-screen television. The tape began with people milling around, chatting. The butlers were passing hors d’oeuvres.

  “Pigs in blankets,” Regan commented.

  “Some people consider them low class. But they always go over well,” Stanley said as he stared admiringly at the screen.

  How did some of them end up in Nat’s garbage can? Regan wondered…“What did you make of the crowd?” she asked Stanley.

  “Generally nice people. Not everybody wanted to be on camera.”

  “How many didn’t want their faces shown?” Regan asked.

  “About half of them. As you can see, I still got the feeling of a big party. There’s Lydia conferring with Maldwin and the other butlers in the kitchen…”

  “There’s a female butler,” Regan observed.

  “A hard worker,” Stanley said vehemently. “A hard worker.”

  Now they were watching a man talking to a woman holding a Snoopy purse.

  “That’s some purse,” Regan said.

  Stanley sighed. “She hung onto it all night. As a matter of fact, she got very upset when the whole commotion started and we found out Nat Pemrod had died.”

  “Did she know him?”

  “She said to me that she had met him at one of the other parties. He told her he liked her purse.”

  Could she be Buttercup? Regan wondered. Could one of these other women be Buttercup?

  Regan didn’t have time to watch every minute of the nearly four hours of tapes, but what she saw acquainted her with some of the people she’d be meeting at the party tonight. “What happened when the police showed up?” she asked Stanley.

  Stanley fast-forwarded to the end of the tape, which showed a policeman standing outside Nat’s apartment. Then it went blank.

  “That’s it?” Regan asked.

  “I ran out of tape.”

  It figures, Regan thought.

  “But they wouldn’t let me inside anyway.” Stanley pressed the OFF button on his set. “Was that helpful?”

  “Yes,” Regan said truthfully.

  “You know, I take a lot of footage and then boil it down to the most interesting sound bites.”

  “I understand,” Regan said, then lowered her voice in a way that indicated she wanted to make Stanley a confidant. “Bring a lot of tape tonight, would you? I’ll pay for it. Your camera can be another set of eyes for us. You never know what we’ll pick up.”

  Stanley beamed. Maybe I’ll get a network show out of this, he thought.

  When Regan left, she hailed a cab uptown. It was four o’clock, and even though it felt cold and wintery, the days were getting longer and longer. Springtime was just around the corner.

  Of course, April is the cruelest month, she thought. Although I think that for certain people March is a strong contender. Certainly for Nat and Ben.

  I so want to help Thomas, she thought. But it seems as if he just makes things worse for himself. If someone from Lydia’s party stole the diamonds or killed Nat, it’s because Thomas allowed Lydia to invite strangers into the club.

  But there was no sign of forced entry. Anyone who ended up in Nat’s apartment, Nat must have known.

  Regan took out her notebook. She jotted down a few thoughts. Talk to Clara again. Find out if there was anything she saw in the apartment that might indicate the presence of another woman. Get a list from Thomas of everyone who lives in the club. Talk to the waiter who served Nat, Ben, and Thomas lunch. Find out who Nat’s lawyer is. Where is the will? Finally, she wrote: Talk to the owner of the Snoopy purse.

  For some reason, I think she’s going to be pretty interesting, Regan mused as she leaned her head back and stared out the window.

  27

  When Maldwin and his posse returned to Lydia’s apartment, he found her in the master bedroom with the covers over her head.

  “Miss Lydia,” Maldwin said to her. He knew that something was up. “May I bring you some tea?”

  “I don’t think tea will solve my problems,” Lydia declared as she lowered her quilt.

  Maldwin sat on the side of the bed. It was not something a butler of the old school would have done, but Maldwin believed that butlers of the twenty-first century should practice compassion for their employers. He felt he was Lydia’s protector, confidant-in a way, her soul mate, even if she did occasionally drive him crazy. “What is it, Princess?” he asked.

  “Burkhard called.”

  “That no good…”

  “Why was I ever attracted to him in the first place?” Lydia implored.

  Good question, Maldwin thought, but he tried to appear thoughtful. “At first Mr. Whittlesey gave an impression of class and breeding.”

  “Someone with class doesn’t stick the lady with the check all the time…”

  “I understand.”

  “Someone with class doesn’t threaten to take things I said in private and twist them around.”

  “You mean about making fun of your clients?”

  “Maldwin!”

  “Sorry.”

  “He was only interested in my money. He thought he could manipulate me because he went to college and I didn’t. But I’ve got street smarts.”

  “That you do, Miss Lydia.”

  “I’m afraid, Maldwin.”

  “There’s no reason to be afraid,” Maldwin said, even though he didn’t believe it.

  “I’ve invested so much of my money in this business. I want you and me to be a big success in New York City. We’ll have our fingers on the pulse of dating and butlering for the third millennium. Burkhard could destroy that for me.”

  “We won’t let him,” Maldwin said firmly.

  Lydia sat up. “How was your day?”

  “A challenge. I’m afraid Vinnie and Albert do not have personalities suitable to a life of private service.”

  “I could have told you that.”

  Maldwin ignored her. “I thought they would be acceptable because my butler school is one for the changing times. It is impossible to think that you’re going to find students who fit the mold of the classic English butler-the perfect Jeeves who seems like an aristocrat himself.”

  “Those two are far from it,” Lydia agreed. “But as they say, good help is hard to find. I’m lucky I found you.”

  Maldwin winced. He hated to be thought of as “help.” He ran the damn place as if it were his own. He cleared his throat. “As Meister Eckehart said, ‘Everyone is born an aristocrat.’ Unfortunately most people lose their charm in childhood.”

  “Who’s Meister Eckehart?”

  “A wise man.” Maldwin stood. “We will prevail. Sunday night Stanley Stock’s program will air, and I’m sure that on Monday the phone will be ringing off the hook. We’ll get through this weekend and all its unpleasantries.” />
  “And if Burkhard shows up for the party tomorrow night?”

  “We’ll handle it. I think we should focus on our party tonight.”

  Lydia pulled the covers back over her head. “I knew I should have taken that other apartment I looked at. I wouldn’t be dealing with this right now!”

  “Regrets are a waste of time,” Maldwin said. “Now get dressed. We’ve got to make your gathering tonight the best one yet.”

  28

  Back at their rented room, Georgette was sitting at the all-purpose table, examining the loot that she had procured from Ben’s apartment.

  It wasn’t much.

  She still couldn’t believe that that woman, whoever she was, came in to take Ben’s food. Talk about nerve. Well, at least she didn’t see me. Who knows how long she’ll be locked up there?

  Georgette giggled. She looked up when she heard the key in the lock. Blaise came in looking as grumpy as he had when he left.

  “What’s all that?” he asked, pointing at the cuff links and foreign coins and silver brush-and-comb set.

  “You’ll be so proud of me,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “Remember the spare key ring I stole from Nat?”

  “Yes.”

  Georgette sat up straight, excited by what she had to report. “I had taken Nat’s key off of it But I got to thinking today. So I came home and looked at the other keys. In tiny letters, two were marked B.C.”

  Blaise’s face remained impassive.

  “Don’t you get it? Ben Carney! Nat’s best friend! The one who died last night! That’s why Thomas Pilsner came running up to Nat’s apartment in the first place.”

  “I know who you’re talking about.”

  “I figured they had to be the keys to Ben’s apartment, so I looked up his address and went over there. The keys worked!”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Because he’s dead. I thought maybe he had the diamonds in his apartment. You never know, ya know?”

  “That was stupid.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if you’d gotten caught we wouldn’t have a chance to look for the diamonds in Pemrod’s apartment. And they’re more likely to be there if they’re anywhere.”

  “No harm in trying,” Georgette said, clearly annoyed that Blaise didn’t praise her ingenuity. And now I’ll have to tell him the rest of it, she thought. Here goes nothing. “Someone walked in when I was in the bedroom going through Ben’s stuff.”

  “What?” Blaise looked alarmed.

  “Don’t worry. She didn’t see me. I sprayed her with Mace and locked her in the closet.”

  “Georgette! Are you out of your mind? All you got out of it was a few trinkets and someone who just might be able to identify you.”

  “I’m telling you, she didn’t see me! And what if the diamonds had been in there? You’d be singing a different tune.”

  Blaise sat down on the kitchen chair opposite her and rubbed his eyes. “I just came home to get my tux. Lydia’s having another party tonight.”

  “I’m going.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes, she called and said she wanted to apologize for the confusion last night. So she’s having the same group back tonight, no charge.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Blaise said. “It’s getting too hot around here. I think we should get out of town very soon.”

  “But what about the diamonds?”

  Blaise thought for a moment. “After the party tonight, we’ll both slip into Pemrod’s. We’ll search the place. If we don’t find them, then I say we take off.”

  “What about your butler classes?”

  “I can’t stand them! I don’t care about the proper way to iron the newspaper or draw a bath or polish the silver!”

  Georgette picked up the tarnished silver brush she’d found on Ben’s dresser and smiled at him. “You can practice on this.”

  “Very funny.” He took her hands in his. “Georgette, something’s up with Lydia. I can just tell. They’re probably having us all back tonight so the police can question everyone.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t go.”

  “That would look bad. And I want to get a shot at going through Nat’s apartment. Then we’re out of here.”

  Georgette looked around. “I’ll be glad to leave this dump.”

  “Me too.”

  “What if we get caught tonight?”

  “We won’t let anyone get in our way.”

  They laughed together.

  29

  Janey lay in the fetal position on the floor of the closet. Her eyes stung, and she was cold. She pictured her nice, warm coat draped across one of the kitchen chairs, just feet away. She still couldn’t believe what had happened.

  It almost felt as if her life were passing in front of her. All my hard work has come to this, she thought. A stupid mistake. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This definitely qualifies for an episode of “My most embarrassing moment.”

  Will someone find me? she wondered. Do I even want to be found? I could jump up and down, but I don’t think anyone would hear me. This place is built like a fortress.

  Her cell phone rang for the third time. It was in her purse, next to her coat on the chair. With my luck, it’s Mrs. Buckland looking for her roast chicken. But in her heart she knew it was Thomas calling. He called her ten times a day. Sometimes if she was busy delivering meals, or stopping for a visit with one of her elderly clients, she didn’t call him back right away. Like last night. So I wasn’t there for him when he needed me.

  Will he be there for me? He always has been. Will he even think to come looking for me here? Why would he? Who knows when they’ll find the niece Ben always talked about? It could be days before they locate her and weeks before she comes to clean out the apartment.

  And the anniversary party is tomorrow night! Janey didn’t want to miss it. She thought of all the scrumptious desserts she’d made for it, the great big cake that would be a showstopper. All the help she was going to give Thomas recruiting members to the club. It was all too much to contemplate. Black depression was closing in on her as tears not caused by the Mace formed in her eyes.

  After about five more minutes of wallowing in her misery, Janey made a decision. I’ve got to think positively, she thought. My life won’t be over if I get out of here. How many celebrities have made big mistakes right in the public eye? All they did was apologize, some of them anyway, and then go on with their lives.

  I know! she thought. Whoever sprayed that Mace in my eyes is a real criminal. They were scavenging through the apartment. Surely they must have stolen some of Ben’s things.

  If I get out of here, I’m going to do my best to help find them. Janey concentrated hard. Now let’s see. It was definitely a woman. And I thought I felt long hair brush against my face when she shoved me in here. And her perfume! I’d recognize that smell anywhere.

  The thoughts cheered Janey somewhat as she reached in front of her and pulled a box of what turned out to be Rice Krispies off the shelf. She stuck her hand in the box and helped herself to a handful. Snap, crackle, pop, she thought. That’s exactly what I’m going to do when I get out of here and find out who did this to me.

  She suddenly thought of her favorite movie, The Sound of Music, and began to sing softly, “‘When the dog bites, when the bee stings…’”

  30

  Nat’s answering machine light was flashing when Regan got back to the apartment. She pressed the PLAY button.

  “Nat, this is Edward Gold. What happened to you and Ben? You never showed up today. We made a blowup of the check for the party tomorrow night. Give me a call.”

  Regan’s eyes widened. She replayed the tape again. Who is Edward Gold? she wondered. And why didn’t he leave a number? Was this a check for the diamonds?

  She quickly called information. There were three Edward Golds in Manhattan. Regan called each of them. One was home. He didn’t know what she was talking about. The ot
her two calls she made were picked up by answering machines. One called himself Eddie and the other Teddy. It was clear from their voices that neither one of them was the man Regan was looking for.

  She was sitting at the counter in the kitchen. The Yellow Pages must be around here somewhere, she thought. In the second drawer she opened she found them. She pulled the heavy volume out, placed it on the counter, and opened it up to the Jewelers section. There were several pages of ads for jewelry buying, selling, repair, custom design, and appraisals. Estate jewelry bought and sold. Ear-piercing services. And then she found it. The ad for Edward Gold Jewelers, located on West Forty-seventh Street.

  Regan picked up the phone and placed the call. In a minute she was speaking to Edward Gold. She told him who she was and the news about Nat and Ben.

  “I can’t believe it,” he said. “They were in here just the other day. We appraised the diamonds and were going to give them the check today. Tomorrow night we were going to bring the diamonds to the Settlers’ Club so everyone could take a look at them, and we had a blown-up replica of the check like they do for lottery winners. It was going to be such a blast.”

  “You actually saw the diamonds.”

  “I just told you, I appraised them! They’re beautiful. I even have someone who is interested in buying them. It’s his fortieth wedding anniversary, and he was going to have them made into earrings for his wife.”

  “Some earrings,” Regan said.

  “I feel terrible.”

  “Did you know Nat well?” Regan asked.

  “I knew that whole group who played cards together. What a bunch of characters. Can you imagine throwing a valuable diamond in a pot and leaving it there for all these years? Last one alive gets to keep all four. Those guys were funny. What a shame.”

  “How long did you know them?” Regan asked.