The Scotland Yard Exchange Series

by Stephanie Queen

  “How much did you pay for it?”

  Nick raised his brows and smirked, now undoubtedly understanding the line of questioning and the reason for it.

  “That’s a rude thing to ask.” Theresa was about to go on, obviously without a shred of a clue that this was business and not casual conversation, when Grace came to the rescue.

  “Theresa, it’s all part of the investigation. Why don’t you come over here and help me with the placement of these decorative items?” Grace said.

  Theresa gave David one last meaningful glare before she rose from the table to join Grace in the kitchen area.

  David decided he ought to speak more softly, but it would be tough to conduct the interview in this open space. Normally, this would all be done at the station, but that was out of the question under the circumstances. After all, Nick was supposed to be dead and Rick wouldn’t be questioned at the station, given his position as lieutenant governor. David gazed at the two women once to make sure they were suitably occupied before continuing.

  “I understand the vase is rather costly for someone in your line of business—want to explain the circumstances of your purchase?” David asked. He and Dan had decided that it was better politically if he did all the dirty work, as the relative outsider, questioning the friends and family members. He was surprised that Rick said nothing, but looked on with interest. He’d probably been wondering the same thing himself.

  “I paid two thousand dollars for it. But technically I haven’t paid anything yet, since they haven’t sent the bill,” Nick said.

  “Are you aware that the vase is worth ten thousand dollars?”

  Rick blew out a whistle. Nick didn’t flinch.

  “No. Not exactly. I knew it was worth more than I paid, but not that much more. The gallery manager suggested it and said he’d give me a price break. He said they were getting in some new inventory from this artist and heavily lobbied that it was a great value. But he never said how much of a discount it was.” Nick turned to his brother. “I wouldn’t have bought it if I didn’t think you and Theresa would love it. I figured it would go great with your stuff.” He looked at Dan and David. “There was nothing hinky about the purchase, at least not from my end. I’d been doing surveillance of an establishment nearby and had been in the shop looking around a few times. The manager figured out I was a cop. That was no good. I had to tell the chief about it and get reassigned to a different case. They weren’t happy.”

  “Here’s the vase,” Grace said, removing bubble wrap from the enormous ice blue glass piece with the same extra-wide base as the red Aquinas vase they’d seen in the local gallery. She lifted it from the granite counter and carried it over as they all watched.

  “Let me help,” Theresa said. Grace turned. She moved too quickly and hit the edge of the counter with the bottom of the vase.

  “Oh no!” Grace said in the instant the giant ball at the bottom of the vase broke off, crashed to the tile floor and cracked open. David watched in stunned silence as Grace stood there still holding the neck of the vase in her hands. She looked down at the floor. But it was not horror he saw on her face—it was surprise and then puzzlement. She looked like she was about to bend down.

  “Don’t move, you’ll get cut,” David said more calmly than he felt and leapt from his chair, a second before everyone else, to rush to her side. Then he saw what she saw and in the next instant, everyone else did too.

  “What the heck is that?” Dan asked what everyone was thinking, including him.

  Grace bent down and picked up what looked like a copper scroll from the debris.

  “It looks like an artifact of some kind—there’s writing on it.” She handed it to David, but before he took it from her, he removed a hanky from his pocket and put it over his hand to protect whatever it was from further contamination. Whatever it was, he was sure it was not supposed to be imbedded inside an art glass vase by Aquinas.

  He took it to the table to inspect it under the chandelier light and everyone followed, buzzing with speculation. He thought Grace was dead-on right about it being an artifact. The writing looked like ancient Incan. He was no expert, but he’d handled his fair share of smuggling cases in the old days.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Dan looked at David and Nick.

  “Smuggling,” they all said at once.

  Dan looked at Nick. “This puts a whole new wrinkle on your murder, doesn’t it?”

  “Maybe they were after Nick all along and not me,” Rick said.

  “That’s wonderful news.” Theresa brightened. “Can we do away with the fake murder scam now and get married?”

  They all looked at her.

  “Not just yet,” David told her. “It’s true that the fake murder is no longer a lure for the would-be murderer to take another shot at Rick if he was not after Rick in the first place, but then again, if Nick is the intended target and they think he’s already dead, he’s much safer since they won’t try to kill him again.”

  Grace blanched at the reality that David made plain. She was definitely not used to the harsher side of police work, he thought.

  “We’ll still use the time the mayor gave us to flush out the murderer. We’ll need to look into this art gallery and possible smuggling connection. Nick, can you find out through your New York City office what’s going on at that gallery?” Dan asked.

  “Will do.”

  “We’ll have Lester Lump set up a meeting for us to go down and question the gallery manager who sold this to you,” David said.

  “Absolutely. I’ll call my boss right away,” Nick said.

  “In the meantime, we need to figure out what the heck we have here.” Dan looked at the copper scroll in David’s hands.

  “We’ll need to consult with an archeologist. Any ideas?” David asked.

  “I know an archeologist,” Grace said. “Dr. Doris. She’s a Harvard Professor and she knows all kinds of things about ancient civilizations. She helped me with a decorating job last year.” They all stared at her. “What?” she asked.

  David decided this was beyond happy coincidence. There was some divine intervention going on here. How else could it be explained that his Grace was the missing link in every line of investigation they had?

  Dan shrugged and indicated that he had no one better on his Rolodex—or whatever the computer version of a Rolodex was, David mused. He knew his friend wasn’t happy, but he was slowing down in his effort to resist the pull of her charm.

  “By all means, let’s give your Dr. Doris a call and see if she can help identify this piece and tell us what the significance or value is.” David beamed a smile at her. Oddly, he felt a twinge of pride, although he told himself he had no cause. He had no proprietary claim on Grace or anything about her. That was a deflating thought. He sincerely wished he had a claim on her—of some kind. The problem was that he didn’t know what it would be except temporary lover, and that was an equally deflating thought.

  “I’ll call her now.” Grace flipped a phone from the pocket in her skintight jeans and placed her call. “No answer. I’ll call again later.”

  David checked his watch and realized it was only 10:00 a.m.

  “Make the appointment for later this afternoon. If you don’t reach her by noon we’ll regroup,” he said.

  “I need to get back to the office—you coming?” Dan asked David as he rose from the table and swallowed the last sip of his coffee.

  “Give me a ride home. We can rendezvous again later after I take care of a few things.” David winked at Grace. She was due to pop over and show him her design plans and budget proposal, and that was something he did not want to miss.

  “What about us?” Theresa asked.

  “What about us?” Rick asked her back with a puzzled look.

  “We stay put for now,” Nick told her. “I’ll let you know when I find something out about the gallery,” he said to Dan.

  “Okay. We’ll send someone down there first thing in the mo
rning. We’ll have David set it up through the local gallery manager,” Dan said.

  “I know the drill,” Nick said.

  “This is exciting!” Grace said.

  “This is going to be boring,” Theresa said.

  David nodded at Dan, gave Grace one last look and headed for the door before the friction got any hotter. He wouldn’t want to be hanging around the loft with that group for the next seven days. When he got to the door he turned to them before leaving.

  “Remember, we have some uniforms out here keeping watch. No one gets in and equally importantly—no one goes out either—except you, Grace.” David ducked out the door with Dan on his heels.

  Grace popped back to her office to collect her things for David’s home. She didn’t know if she was more excited to tell Sophia-the-Pixie all about her morning, or if she was more excited about going over David’s to show him her proposal for turning the empty shell where he lived into a home. After checking in at her office, she parked herself in front of Sophia’s cubicle, watching her friend sketch out a room, until she looked up.

  “How did it go this morning?” Sophia asked. “Did you get them all settled? The boss was upset at the loss of the design job for Theresa and Rick’s new place.”

  “It’s only been postponed. Batman was there.”

  Sophia’s head popped up at that.

  “What happened? Tell all,” she said.

  “I can’t—I’m sworn to secrecy.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I already know about the murder, or should I say fake murder? Theresa spilled the beans—by accident. She said something to Nick while I was on the phone with her last night about canceling the job. So you may as well tell me all about it.”

  “David’s not going to like this.” She frowned, but only for a moment. “I’m actually helping with the case, and I’m starting to feel like David’s detective sidekick.” Her goose bumps rose thinking about it.

  “I’m sure his real sidekick, Dick Tracy, would have something to say about that—and nothing good.” Her pixie friend shook her head in disapproval.

  Grace sat on the edge of her desk and folded her arms. “Don’t worry about him—I’ll win him over.” Somehow.

  “So what happened?” Sophia blew her bright red bangs from in front of her eyes. Grace figured it was exasperation just as much as to clear her view.

  “I broke the Aquinas vase that Nick bought for Rick and Theresa’s wedding gift and—”

  “You what? That doesn’t sound helpful.”

  “Normally, I’d have been heartbroken, but there was an important clue inside.” Grace enjoyed the skeptical look on her friend’s face.

  “Even though this sounds like something from a bad imitation of a Sherlock Holmes novel, go on.”

  “There was an ancient copper artifact inside and they needed an archeologist so I suggested—”

  “Dr. Doris.”

  “Exactly. I have to call her again now and arrange a meeting this afternoon. Cross your fingers that she’s in town. She could be in South America.” Grace tapped the numbers on the phone on Sophia’s desk with one hand while crossing her fingers with the other. Not that she was superstitious, but it didn’t hurt to cover the bases.

  The woman answered on the first ring.

  “Grace Rogers? What a delightful surprise to hear from you,” Dr. Doris said before Grace could say a word.

  “I’m glad you think so, Dr. Doris. I have a strange favor to ask you. It’s important police work.” Grace gave Sophia a puzzled look when Dr. Doris’s response was uncontrollable laughter. Her pixie friend smirked knowingly.

  “I’m serious. I know it sounds strange, but I’m working with the Boston police chief and his consultant from Scotland Yard.” Grace paused while Dr. Doris continued to laugh. “Really now, it’s not that funny.” Grace was getting a little exasperated, but eventually she’d get the woman to listen. And boy would she be surprised to meet the dynamic duo in person.

  Pixie laughed out loud too, and after she eventually got them both to stop, Grace arranged for the meeting at four that afternoon. That would give her plenty of time alone with David at his townhouse—to show him her decorating ideas, of course.

  “Your meeting with Dr. Doris sounds intriguing,” Pixie said. “I’m getting interested in your Batman.”

  “I like to think of him as Oscar’s alter ego,” Grace admitted with a shine in her voice. But she didn’t dare admit that he was starting to feel a lot like Batman for real.

  Sophia rolled her eyes as it was, but Grace didn’t mind. She was too revved up with excitement.

  “Let me know how it goes at Dr. Doris’s office. This police sidekick business is getting to be a thing with you,” Pixie said. “Now get off my desk so I can finish this sketch.”

  “No problem. I’m on my way to see my new favorite client in the world and make his home fit for…” She thought “fit for his Bat-cave” but stopped herself from saying it.

  Sophia looked up from her drawing board at the pause, with her brows raised and curious eyes.

  “Fit for his future queen,” Grace dared instead to say out loud, and Pixie gave her a knowing shake of her red-haired bob. That was time for her exit—to the bat pole.

  Parking would have been a problem if she weren’t intimately familiar with this Beacon Hill neighborhood. She decided to park at Mabel’s townhouse and walk the block and a half to David’s. She could stop in for a quick visit with her adopted aunt on her way out. She carried her proposal material on a small-wheeled cart over the cobblestone sidewalk. Arriving at the steps to David’s front door, she hauled the cart up and knocked. Her heart pounded.

  She was a great catch, she told herself. He’d be crazy not to want to keep her. All the same, she was terrified of being rejected. She was much younger than he was, and that should be a good thing, but she had a feeling he wasn’t convinced of that. She’d allowed Sophia’s age comments to get to her. Her hands felt clammy as she stood there waiting for him to answer his door.

  “Of course he felt the electricity too. He couldn’t possibly be immune to our connection,” she said out loud. That was when he opened the door and smiled at her, then looked around.

  “Were you talking to someone?”

  “Oh…yeah…on my cell phone,” she adlibbed and stepped into his home, passing close by him. She took a deep breath and smelled his clean crisp maleness. He was dressed in a white shirt and dark pants, but without the tie he’d had on that morning. She loved his look. She loved everything about him.

  She walked to the center of the room and turned to look over the place again. Her heart gave that flutter. She took one more calming breath and told herself to decorate.

  “What’s in the suitcase? Are you moving in?” He said the words not unpleasantly, and inwardly she scoffed at the flash of hope in her quickened pulse. She laughed and felt the nervousness fade to a glow of well-being.

  “Not today. This is my decorating proposal for you,” she said. Then she opened the top and took out her storyboard sketch of the rooms, followed by drapery and upholstery samples and then some paint samples and photos of lamps and accent rugs. She spread it all out on the floor since he had no table. She took him on a tour. He listened intensely and watched her move.

  “I’m impressed. I can actually see it—just as you’ve drawn it.” He picked up the storyboard sketch, held it out in front of him and examined it. “I should frame this and hang it in the hall as a directory for newcomers. Knowing me, there’ll be a steady stream of new people constantly popping by,” he said.

  He looked at her and chuckled and then she realized he was kidding.

  “Seriously, you are a tremendous artist as well as decorator. I will frame this and hang it on the wall.”

  “You’re so kind to flatter me, but all decorators are artists. We all have to be able to illustrate our designs for our clients.” The warmth from his compliment did not diminish.

  “I don’t care about the others
. You are my extremely talented decorator and”—he paused—“I’m lucky to have you.” He was serious now.

  She stepped closer to him to take the board and lean it against the wall. He stood close to her, seemingly too close in the giant empty room. She felt the buzz of electricity heighten to a near unbearable surge of excitement.

  He reached out and took her hand in his and was about to speak when her cell phone rang. He immediately dropped her hand with a resigned smile and gestured for her to answer it. She felt the surge waver, but she had time, she told herself as she fished her cell phone out of her bag and tapped it on.

  “Mabel, hello. How are you?” She saw David’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise—and something else that looked like apprehension.

  “Is the rumor I heard true?” Mabel asked loudly enough for David to hear. That was fine with Grace. They may as well both enjoy the spitfire personality of the older woman.

  “Which rumor would that be? I’ve heard a million of them, and they all involve you,” she teased.

  “Not those rumors—don’t believe any of them. They’re being spread by jealous family members. No, I mean the one about you and my nephew, David Young,” Mabel said.

  Grace dropped her jaw and the phone at the same time. She was looking straight at David as he grinned when he heard Mabel’s words. He shrugged and picked up her phone.

  “May I?” he gestured to the phone and she nodded. She was unsure what to make of this. It was probably no big deal. Right? Her aunt Mabel was David’s real aunt?

  “Hello, Aunt Mabel,” David said into the phone. He then immediately removed it from his ear and Grace could hear the very loud, cackling laughter of the old woman. She tapped the pointed toe of her alligator skin boot on the hardwood floor so the sound echoed in the empty room. It made her smile when David raised his brow again. He coughed into the phone and they watched each other as he attempted to continue his conversation with his Auntie Mabel.

  “You’ve had your laugh, now tell me what this is all about,” he said. Grace listened along with David.

  “I saw you at the Scotland Yard soiree with my girl Grace, young man. But I didn’t expect to find you together today.”