Gone But Knot Forgotten

by Mary Marks

  Birdie sighed. “I don’t think I could stay up that late.”

  Lucy clucked her tongue. “Oh, for pity’s sake, Birdie. They tape that show hours before they broadcast it.”

  “Well, I still wish Oprah hadn’t quit. I liked her best of all.”

  While Lucy and Birdie planned their television careers, I stepped over to another shelf holding boxes of old documents carefully preserved in archival sleeves. The first sleeve I picked up contained seventeenth-century Dutch travel passes for Jacob José Oliveria and his wife, Estella. Like so many immigrants to America, they must have Anglicized their name.

  I briefly sifted through the sleeves. “These are Oliver family papers dating back hundreds of years. I can just picture Harriet organizing these files the same way she kept her school notebook—neat and in order.”

  “Are you going to give those back to the Oliver family?” Birdie indicated the boxes.

  “Neither Henry nor Estella mentioned the documents as something they want.” I replaced the papers in the box. “I’ll donate them to the Touro Synagogue or the National Library. These papers should be made available to historians and serious researchers.”

  Lucy looked at her wristwatch. “Holy cow. It’s nearly two already. I’ve got to meet Ray in an hour. Our grandson, Little Tony, has a game this afternoon.”

  I walked back to the table. “Let’s fold the quilt a different way. The fabric on the old fold lines is already stressed and may crumble if we continue to store it the same way.” Instead of refolding in halves, we carefully brought the edges back to front and gently folded the quilt into thirds and replaced it inside the archival box.

  We backed out of the room, turned off the lights, and closed everything up, hiding the treasures once again. Now, unless he knew where to look, Emmet Wish wouldn’t have a clue to the location of the secret hiding place.

  A phone message waited for me when I arrived home. “Babe, something came up. You won’t be able to reach me for a while. I’ll call you when I can.”

  First Malo, now Crusher. I sure hoped I’d find Carl around in case I needed his help. When I called his number, I heard, “I’m unavailable for the next few days. Leave a message.” All three of them were off the grid? What was going on? Did this mean I’d be on my own if I went after Wish?

  CHAPTER 30

  I popped open a can of Coke Zero and called Dr. Naomi Hunter at the Smithsonian. “I think we found the Declaration Quilt today.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Rose, this is monumental! Simply unbelievable. What condition is it in?”

  I described the fragile artifact to her, from the crumbling and discolored fold marks to the ink spots on the Robert Treat Paine block. “It looks genuine to me.”

  “How soon can I examine the quilt?”

  “Anytime, really. It’s tucked away safely in Harriet’s house.”

  “I’ll try to book a flight in the next couple of weeks.”

  I finished my cola, trying to figure out how to prove to Farkas that Emmet Wish killed Harriet. If only I could trick Wish into confessing. An idea started to form that was crazy enough to work.

  The insurance agent picked up on the third ring.

  “Mr. Wish, this is Martha Rose. I’m calling to let you know I opened the secret room today. Thankfully, I found everything inside, except the Benjamin Franklin watch.”

  Wish took in a little sip of air. “Really. Everything’s there?”

  “Yes. The books are all in lovely condition for their age. They should bring millions to Harriet’s estate. The Smithsonian has already offered seven figures for the quilt.”

  “This is very good news indeed. Did you have trouble getting inside?”

  “Oh no. I was able to enter all by myself. Nobody else was there. You’re the first person I thought to call because of the insurance thing. We don’t have to file a claim for stolen property after all.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’d like to check out everything, just to make sure, but I’m really over-scheduled for the next few days. I do have some time this evening, though. I wonder, if I wouldn’t be imposing, would you mind meeting me at Harriet’s house tonight?”

  Hah! If he only knew what I have planned for him. “Not at all.”

  “Good. And, Mrs. Rose? I think it’s a good idea if you hold off on telling anyone else about your discovery. Let’s just keep this to ourselves for now.”

  I used my stupid voice. “Okay, but why?”

  “Harriet’s killer is still on the loose. If he knows you found her things, you might be in danger. We don’t want anything to happen to you too.”

  I agreed to meet him at nine, but I didn’t plan to come alone.

  Around dinnertime I made a peanut butter sandwich on challah and called Lucy. “How was the game?”

  “The bleacher seats get harder every year, but Little Tony won, so it was worth a little discomfort.”

  I told her about my meeting with Emmet Wish later tonight at Harriet’s. “I’m going to try to get him to confess to Harriet’s murder.”

  “You’ve done some risky things in your life, Martha, but this is downright lunatic. Yossi Levy is going with you, right?”

  “Not exactly. The Valley Eagles are suddenly unavailable for a few days. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not waiting for them.”

  Lucy exploded. “Are you crazy?”

  “I’m taking Arthur with me. He’s a great police dog. He won’t let anything bad happen. And between you, me, and the dog, we can’t fail.”

  “What do you mean you and me?” Lucy gasped.

  “I kind of need another person if this is going to work. You and I will get there early and you’ll stay out of sight. I’ll take Wish into the secret room and get him to confess. You’ll follow quietly and hide behind the door on the landing, where you can record the whole conversation. When we have what we need, you’ll call Farkas to come and get him.”

  “In what universe would a man confess to murder and then wait quietly for the police? If he strangled Harriet, he could kill again. Remind me, how big is this guy?”

  “Don’t you remember him from the funeral? He’s shortish and dapper and wears a ring with a ruby in it. We could overpower him if we have to.” Lucy was inches taller than Wish, and I outweighed him by at least twenty pounds. Okay, maybe more, but that was between me and my Weight Watchers scale.

  “What if he brings a gun?”

  “You forgot about Arthur. He’s ferocious. The dog’s trained to take down an armed suspect. Once we subdue Wish, we tie him up with duct tape and wait for the police.”

  Silence. A good sign. “Ray would never let me go if he knew.”

  “So don’t tell him.”

  More silence. “I’m bringing a gun.”

  Lucy and her husband, Ray, were gun owners and collectors. I once borrowed one of their weapons to defend myself against a killer, and it saved my life. I wholeheartedly supported the Second Amendment. “Okay, but I don’t think you really need to. My idea is foolproof.”

  “You’re the fool if you think so.”

  “So what does that make you?” I chuckled.

  “A fool’s best friend. Pick me up at seven-thirty.”

  An hour later the phone rang. I immediately jumped to the defensive when I heard the voice on the other line.

  “This is Henry Oliver. I just checked in at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills. I want to talk.”

  I bristled at the man’s attitude and dreaded his reaction when he discovered he wasn’t entitled to anything of Harriet’s. I’d let Abernathy tell him. My palms began to sweat. “I think it’s best if we meet in the attorney’s office. I’ll call him tomorrow for an appointment and get back to you.”

  “I demand an accounting for every family heirloom, including the ones you claim are missing.”

  I stared at the phone, seething. He had no right to demand anything. Henry Oliver reminded me of a pit bull on a bad day. “They were missing, but they’ve just turned up.”
/>   “Well, thank goodness. Have you sold them already?”

  Could he be more insulting? A vein in my neck started to throb. “Of course not. Not yet.”

  Oliver’s voice turned silky. “Look, perhaps I misspoke. Why do we need to involve an attorney, Mrs. Rose? Surely we can work this out on our own. My sister, Estella, informed me you’d consider letting the heirlooms stay in the family, correct?”

  “Yes.” Before I knew what a jerk you were. “However, I’m not prepared to discuss this now, Mr. Oliver. I’ll contact you tomorrow.”

  I disconnected the phone. My fingers were shaking as I punched in Abernathy’s number. I took a few deep yoga breaths while I waited for him to answer.

  “Deke here.”

  I told him about Oliver’s call. “He tried to bully me into a conversation, but I did what you suggested and told him I’d schedule an appointment with you tomorrow.”

  “Good girl. What did he say?”

  Girl? Does he think he can treat me like an obedient child? Did he forget I can still report him to the police and the California State Bar for embezzlement? I swallowed my annoyance. “At first Henry Oliver was aggressive, but then he turned all friendly when I told him the heirlooms were safe inside a secret room. He tried to talk me out of meeting in your office, but I stood firm. I have a Yoga class in the morning. Can we meet after lunch?”

  “No problem. Tell Oliver to be in my office at two. You don’t really have to attend if you don’t want to. I can tell him to stop bothering you and threaten him with a restraining order.”

  “No, I want to be there. To be honest, I haven’t made my final decision about the heirlooms.”

  I could understand why Harriet didn’t include either Henry or Estella in her will. They hardly seemed the loving family. However, I couldn’t help wondering how I’d feel if someone took away the things important to me, like my bubbie’s tablecloth or her silver Shabbat candleholders. Family history was important, and the Olivers were proud of theirs. They could trace their roots back to the 1600s. How many people were able to do that?

  I never knew my father or his relatives. How much richer would my life have been without those gaps in my history? I rubbed my eyes. “As odious as Henry and Estella might be, I want to do the right thing.”

  Abernathy’s voice softened. “You’re being more than fair, Martha, but I have to remind you of the terms of Harriet’s will. You have two choices. Donate her valuables to benefit a charitable organization or sell them. You cannot give them away to individuals.”

  “Are you sure I can’t sell them at a deep discount?”

  “No. You have a fiduciary duty to sell them at fair market value.”

  Sometimes the law is unfair. “I’ll be in your office tomorrow at two.”

  At seven-thirty I grabbed a roll of duct tape, loaded Arthur into the car, and drove to Lucy’s. To my surprise, she had Birdie in tow. Lucy snapped her seat belt and twisted around to look at Birdie buckling herself into the backseat. “When I told Birdie what we were going to do tonight, she insisted on coming. Right, hon?”

  Birdie sat next to the dog and patted his head. “Martha dear, I just had to join you. It’s going to be so satisfying to collar this perp.”

  I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but she could be a real liability to my plan. “What if we have to struggle or make a fast escape, Birdie? I don’t expect that to happen, but you never know. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

  “If there’s any trouble, I can defend myself with this.” She reached in her purse and held up a pair of fabric shears with seven-inch blades. Her knuckles, enlarged and twisted by arthritis, showed white as she clutched her weapon.

  Lucy opened her tote bag and pulled out a Browning semiautomatic .22 caliber pistol, the one she loaned me earlier this year to defend myself. “And I’ve got this.”

  That’s when I noticed they were both wearing identical black hoodies.

  I handed her my roll of duct tape. “You might as well add this to your arsenal.”

  We drove through the chilly December night and reached Harriet’s in twenty minutes. Floodlights illuminated the peeling white bark on the slender birch trees lining her circular driveway. As I pulled my Corolla up to the entrance, a motion sensor triggered carriage lamps on either side of the front door.

  I’d never seen the house in the dark. The surrounding trees blurred the sharp lines of the architecture, and the windows stared blank and empty as a corpse. I grabbed Arthur’s leash and we all walked to the front door. A dog barked somewhere down the street, and Arthur briefly twitched his ears. My spine tingled. “Ready?” I pulled my knitted scarf tighter around my neck, took a deep breath, and unlocked the door. “Let’s do this.”

  CHAPTER 31

  I flipped on the switch in the foyer. The alabaster globes on the chandelier warmed the area with a golden glow, but the rest of the vacant house stayed dark. We stood in the pool of light and Birdie leaned in close.

  “What exactly is your plan, Martha dear?” Her voice echoed in the empty space.

  I stroked the dog’s head. “Arthur and I will greet Emmet Wish at the front door. You guys stay out of sight. I’ll take Wish down into the safe room and trick him into confessing. Meanwhile, Lucy will sneak halfway down and hide on the landing behind the door where she’ll record everything. Once we get the confession, we’ll make a citizen’s arrest and call the police.”

  “What if he resists arrest?” Birdie nervously twisted the end of her braid.

  “Arthur can subdue him, and Lucy has a gun. If we have to, we’ll tie up Wish with duct tape until the police arrive.”

  “What about me?” Birdie raised her hand. “What can I do?”

  She could barely climb the stairs with her arthritic knees and couldn’t move fast in an emergency. No way would I put my seventy-something friend in a position of danger. “You’ll stay out of sight, Birdie. In case things get rough down there, we need someone who can call for help. You’re our backup.”

  She drew her cell phone out of her purse and waved it with a smile. “Roger that.”

  At five minutes before nine, headlights shone through the living-room windows as a car entered the driveway.

  “It’s him,” I hissed. “Quickly, hide.”

  Lucy and Birdie covered their heads with their black hoodies and scuttled into the powder room directly across from the hidden portal.

  Just before Lucy pulled the door closed, she whispered, “Be careful, girlfriend.”

  I answered the soft knocking right away.

  Emmet Wish smiled as I opened the door. The short man wore dark jeans and a black pea coat against the December chill. He thrust out his hand. I recognized his large ring with the red stone. “Hello, Mrs. Rose.” He crushed my hand in a too-tight grip.

  I shivered and tried not to look spooked. “I’m so glad to see you, Mr. Wish. I’ve been dying to show you what I found. Please come inside.”

  “Please, call me Emmet, and I’ll call you Martha.” He stepped into the foyer and Arthur immediately stood at attention and growled softly.

  “What’s he doing here?” Wish pointed to the dog.

  “Oh, don’t mind Arthur. He’s just old and cranky. See the white on his muzzle?”

  Wish looked around. “Did I pull you away from your family tonight? I hope I didn’t cause anyone to be upset by asking you to come here.”

  He wants to know if anyone else knows I’m here.

  I opened my eyes wide. “I live alone. Nobody else knows I’m here.” I hoped he didn’t pick up on the lie that sounded so hollow to my ears.

  He squinted. “Who else knows about the room?”

  “Well, the guy who built it, of course.” I tried to laugh. “And a few others. But I wouldn’t worry about them. They don’t know exactly where the room is or how to get inside.” I smiled brightly. “But I do. Would you like to see it now?”

  I walked over to the stairway and counted up five steps. Like Lucy did earlier in the
day, I reached under the front edge of the stair tread and pressed a small button. The tread flipped open and revealed the keypad beneath.

  “Amazing.” Wish spoke in near reverence. “I would never have found this setup on my own.” He looked at me quickly. “Open it up, please.”

  I shifted my position so he couldn’t see the code I punched in. The paneling clicked open to reveal the steel door. As Wish approached the portal, I glanced at the powder room. Lucy had opened the door a crack and I could see her bright orange hair peeking out under the hoodie. I flapped my hand next to my leg gesturing for her to move back out of sight.

  “The door won’t open.” Wish tugged on the handle.

  “Wait a minute.” I stuck the little key in and activated the override.

  The electromagnetic switch clicked. Wish yanked on the door and entered the dark space.

  “There’s a light switch to your right,” I said. “I’ll be right down.”

  He turned on the light, descended quickly to the landing, and opened the second door. When I heard him go the rest of the way down, I knocked three times on the powder room door to give Lucy the all clear.

  I kept Arthur right next to my legs as I followed Wish into the secret room.

  The insurance agent made straight for the display case where the priceless first editions lay. “So this is where you’ve been hiding.”

  Show time. I just hoped Lucy had managed to sneak as far as the landing with her iPhone in Record mode.

  My mouth dried out and my voice shook a little. “Sounds like I’m not the only one who’s been looking for these books.”

  He looked up sharply. “What are you saying?”

  I took a deep breath. “I think you know. You were the one who searched this house. You were looking for these books because you wanted to sell them on the black market.”

  His mouth fell open and he merely stared.

  “You gave yourself away when you told me earlier about having a client who would jump to buy them. Tell me, did the same buyer who paid you for the Benjamin Franklin watch also want to buy the books and the Declaration Quilt?”