Eddie’s eyes streamed with tears, and Junior blew kisses at the screen as the guests dutifully sang “Happy Birthday, Heddy-Anna” in Wallonian, working from phonetically marked song sheets.
Her cheeks puffed like twin red balloons, Mama blew out the candles on the cake her sons had sent by chartered plane to Wallonia. That was when it became all too clear that she’d filled the hours past her usual bedtime by drinking more than her share of grappa. In broken English she started cursing and complaining loudly that her sons never came to see her and she wasn’t feeling so hot.
Junior quickly turned down the volume but not before she had screamed, “How much bad things you two do, you can’t come see your mama before she die? Not once you come in all these years.”
Billy and Nor immediately started another vigorous round of “Happy Birthday, Heddy-Anna.” This time no one joined in, however, and the telecast closed on the unforgettable sight of Mama thumbing her nose at her offspring and their guests, as she came down with a case of the hiccups.
Jewel’s laugh was a high-pitched trill. “Doesn’t Mama have a wonderful sense of humor? I just love her.”
Junior brushed Jewel aside and stalked out of the room. Eddie followed close behind.
Nor quickly whispered to Billy, “This is a disaster. What should we do? He told us to sing ‘For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow’ while people ate the cake.
“And then the medley of songs about mothers, starting with ‘I always loved my mama, she’s my favorite girl…’ ”
How about “Little old lady, time for tea,” Sterling thought. That was a hit in my day.
“We’d better check on what they want us to do now. I’m not taking any chances on second-guessing them,” Nor said, glancing around the room at the stunned expressions on the faces of the guests.
As Sterling trotted after Nor and Billy, he sensed imminent disaster. Junior and Eddie were disappearing into a room at the end of the hall.
Billy and Nor raced to catch up with them, and Billy tapped on the now-closed door. When there was no response, he and Nor looked at each other. “Let’s take a chance,” Nor whispered.
Just go home, Sterling urged, but knew it was a year too late to even think that.
Billy turned the handle and cautiously opened the door. He and Nor stepped into what appeared to be a small reception room. It was empty.
“They’re in there,” Nor whispered, pointing to an inner room that could be seen through a partially open door. “Maybe we’d better…”
“Wait a minute. They’re checking the answering machine.”
An electronic voice was announcing, “You have one new message.”
Nor and Billy hesitated, not sure whether to wait or to leave, but then the message they were overhearing froze them to the spot.
It was a plea from a man who sounded desperate, begging for “wery little extra time” to pay back a loan.
The answering machine clicked off, and they heard Junior shout, “Your time just ran out, buddy. Eddie, get on it. Tell the guys to burn his stinking warehouse down and do it now. I don’t wanna hear that it’s still standing tomorrow.”
“There won’t be nuthin’ left,” Eddie assured him, sounding much cheerier, his mind off Mama for the moment.
Billy put his finger to his lips. Silently he and Nor tiptoed from the room and hurried back to the salon. “Let’s get our stuff,” Billy whispered. “We’re out of here.”
What they did not notice, but Sterling did, was that Charlie Santoli, at the other end of the hall, had seen them come out of the office.
The celestial waiting room was filled with newcomers gazing around and trying to adjust to their surroundings. The angel in charge had been ordered to hang a large DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door of the conference room. There had been several instances of former top executives, not used to being kept waiting, who had rushed in demanding a meeting when the angel’s back was turned.
Inside the conference room, the Heavenly Council was following Sterling ’s activities with keen interest.
“Did you notice how chagrined he was when Marissa didn’t even sense that he was present in the restaurant?” the nun asked. “He was truly taken aback.”
“That was one of the first lessons we wanted him to learn,” the monk stated. “During his lifetime, too many people were invisible to him. He’d look right past them.”
“Do you think Mama Heddy-Anna will turn up in our waiting room soon?” the shepherd asked. “She told her sons she’s dying.”
The nurse smiled. “She used the oldest trick in the book to get her sons to visit her. She’s as strong as a bull.”
“I wouldn’t want her in the ring with me,” the matador commented wryly.
“That lawyer is in real trouble,” said the saint who had reminded Sterling of Pocahontas. “Unless he does something drastic very soon, when his time comes, he won’t be dealing with us.”
“Poor Hans Kramer is desperate,” the nun observed. “The Badgett brothers have absolutely no mercy.”
“They belong in the brig,” the admiral proclaimed sternly.
“Did you hear that?” the queen’s tone was shocked. “They’re going to set that poor man’s warehouse on fire.”
Shaking their heads, the saints fell silent, reflecting sadly on man’s inhumanity to man.
Valets frantically rushed to deliver the cars of the guests pouring out of the house. Sterling leaned against a column on the porch, bent on hearing the reactions of the departing merrymakers.
“Bizarre!”
“Give them their money back. I’ll donate two million for that wing,” a dowager snapped.
“Reminded me of the movie ‘Throw Momma From the Train.’ I bet that’s what those two characters feel like doing now,” a board member’s husband snickered.
“At least the food was good,” someone said charitably.
“I hope you caught that they haven’t set foot in Wallonia since they left. Figure out why.”
“You got a load of Mama, didn’t you?”
Sterling noticed that the two U.S. Senators were screaming at their top aides as they were whisked away. They’re probably worrying that they’ll be written up in the tabloids for partying with mobsters, Sterling thought. They should know what Junior is going to do to some poor guy’s warehouse. He couldn’t wait to slip into Nor and Billy’s car and hear what they had to say about everything that had happened.
A guest, who clearly had slurped as much vodka as Mama had grappa began to sing, “Happy Birthday, Heddy-Anna” in Wallonian, but didn’t have his phonetically marked song sheet to consult. He switched to English and was joined by several other guests, who were also feeling no pain.
Sterling heard a valet ask one of the guests if his vehicle was an SUV. What’s that? Sterling wondered. A moment later the valet pulled up in one of those little trucks. So that’s what it is, Sterling thought. I wonder what SUV stands for.
Billy’s SUV was parked in the back. Don’t want to miss them, Sterling thought. Two minutes later, when Nor and Billy appeared, lugging their equipment, he was in the backseat.
It was obvious from the nervous expressions on both their faces that they were deeply worried.
Wordlessly, they loaded the car, jumped in, and joined the line of vehicles exiting the long driveway. They did not speak until they were out on the main road. Then Nor asked, the words rushing out, “Billy, do you think they were serious about burning down someone’s warehouse?”
“Absolutely, and we’re damn lucky they don’t know we overheard them.”
Uh-oh, Sterling thought. Their lawyer-what’s his name? Charlie Santoli-saw you come out of the office. If he tells the Badgetts, your goose is cooked.
“I can’t help thinking that I’ve heard that voice before, the one on the phone message,” Nor said slowly. “Did you notice he said ‘wery,’ not ‘very,’ when he asked for more time?”
“Now that you say it, I guess I did,” Billy agreed. “I just figure
d the poor guy was so nervous he was practically stuttering.”
“No, it wasn’t that. Maybe he has a slight lisp. I think he’s had dinner at the restaurant. The thing is, if I could only remember who it was, then we could warn him.”
“When we get to the restaurant, I’m going to call the police,” Billy said. “I don’t want to use the cell phone.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence. In the backseat, Sterling shared their anxiety.
It was nearly nine o’clock when they entered Nor’s Place. The holiday diners were in full force. Nor tried to greet people quickly. At the same moment, she and Billy spotted one of their old friends, Sean O’Brien, a retired detective, sitting at the bar.
They looked at each other. “I’ll ask him to sit with us. He’ll know what we should do,” Billy said.
A smile plastered on her face, Nor went to her usual table at the front of the restaurant. From this vantage point she could oversee the operation, hold court, and easily greet her patrons. Sterling joined her, taking the seat he’d been occupying a few hours earlier.
Billy came to the table followed by Sean O’Brien, a solid-looking man of about fifty-five, with a full head of graying brown hair, alert brown eyes, and a genial smile.
“Season’s greetings, Nor,” he began, then immediately sensed something was wrong. “What’s up?” he asked abruptly, as he and Billy sat down.
“We were hired for a party the Badgett brothers gave this afternoon,” Nor began.
“The Badgett brothers?” O’Brien raised one eyebrow, then listened intently as they told him of the message on the answering machine and Junior Badgett’s response to it.
“I know the voice,” Nor finished. “I’m sure that man has been a customer here.”
“Nor, the feds have been trying to pin something on those two for years. They’re as slippery as fish in olive oil. They’re crooks and they’re vicious. If that was a local call, I wouldn’t be surprised to be reading tomorrow about a warehouse that burned down overnight.”
“Is there anything we can do to try to stop them?” Billy asked.
“I can alert the feds, but those guys have interests all over. We know for sure they have a presence in Vegas and Los Angeles. That message could have come from anywhere, but no matter where it came from, it doesn’t mean the warehouse is in that vicinity.”
“I never knew the Badgetts were that bad,” Billy said. “You hear rumors, but they have those car and boat dealerships…”
“They’ve got a dozen legitimate businesses,” O’Brien said. “That’s the way they launder their money. I’ll make some calls. The feds will at least want to keep them under surveillance, but those guys never dirty their own hands.”
Nor rubbed her forehead, her face troubled. “There’s a reason I remember that voice. Wait a minute.” She beckoned a waiter. “Sam, ask Dennis to join us. You cover the bar.”
O’Brien looked at her. “It’s better if nobody else knows you overheard that conversation.”
“I trust Dennis with my life,” Nor said.
The table is getting crowded, Sterling thought. I’ll have to stand. He felt the chair being pulled out and jumped up quickly. He had no desire to have Dennis sitting on his lap.
“… and, Dennis, I’m sure I’ve heard that voice in this restaurant,” Nor concluded a few minutes later. “He pronounced ‘very’ as ‘wery.’ Granted that could have been just nerves, but I thought maybe it’s a guy who sits at the bar and talks with you sometimes.”
Dennis shook his head. “I can’t think of a soul, Nor. But I do know this-if that Badgett guy was on the level when he talked about burning down a warehouse, the fellow who called him will be ‘wery upset.’ ”
“Wery, wery upset,” Billy agreed.
They all laughed nervously.
They’re trying to use humor to cover their very real anxieties, Sterling thought. If the Badgett brothers are as bad as Sean O’Brien believes they are, and if Nor and Billy have to testify about that call… Poor Marissa. She was so happy today.
O’Brien got up. “I’ve got to make some phone calls,” he said. “Nor, can I use your office?”
“Of course.”
“You and Billy come with me. I want to put you on the phone and have you repeat exactly what you heard.”
“I’ll be at the bar.” Dennis pushed his chair back.
If I were still alive, that chair would have smashed my big toe, Sterling thought.
“Nor, I thought you and Billy were doing a holiday performance here at the restaurant tonight,” a patron at a nearby table called. “We came specially to hear you two sing.”
“You’re going to.” Nor smiled. “We’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
In the office, O’Brien phoned his contact at the FBI, and Nor and Billy recounted what they had overheard. When the call ended, Nor shrugged her shoulders. “It is what it is. Unless I can remember whose voice that is, I’m no use to them.”
Billy’s cell phone rang. “It’s Rissa,” he said as he looked at the Caller ID. His troubled expression cleared. “Hi, baby… We just got back… No, we didn’t see the swimming pool or the bowling alley… Well, I wouldn’t say they were like the Sopranos.”
“I would,” Nor murmured.
“Uh-huh, we did our usual bit…” He laughed. “…Of course we were sensational. They couldn’t get enough of us. Listen, baby, NorNor will say a quick hello, then you get to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”
He handed the phone to Nor, then turned to O’Brien. “You’ve met my daughter, Marissa, haven’t you?”
“Sure. I thought she owned this place.”
“She thinks she does.”
Nor said good night to Marissa and smiled ruefully as she snapped the phone closed and handed it to Billy. She looked at O’Brien. “I can’t help wondering if that poor guy who was begging for more time to pay off a loan is supporting a family.”
Billy put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “You look tired, Mom, so I hate to say it, but your public awaits…”
“I know. We’ve got to get out there. Give me a minute to do my face.”
O’Brien reached in his pocket. “Here’s my card. If you get a brainstorm, call me at any time. I’ll give one to Dennis too.”
By 9:30, when Nor and Billy began to perform, every table in the restaurant was filled. They did two half-hour shows, one at 9:30, then another at 11, for the late-night crowd.
They’re troupers, Sterling thought. You’d never know they have a care in the world. The minute Nor finished the first show she slipped into her office, carrying the reservations books for the last two years under her arm. Sterling sat with her as she went through them, saying each name aloud as she went down the list.
Several times she stopped and repeated a name, then shook her head and continued to read. She’s trying to see if the name of the guy whose voice they heard jumps out at her, Sterling thought.
The concern in Nor’s face deepened as she spoke name after name. But then she glanced at her watch and jumped up, opened her bag and pulled out her compact. In seconds she had lightly powdered her face, touched up her eyes and lips. She pulled the jeweled comb out of her hair and shook her head. Sterling was amazed at how deftly she twisted the long tresses in her fingers, swept them up, and anchored them once again.
“I feel like Minnie off the pickle boat,” she said aloud, “but I guess the show must go on.”
You look wonderful, Sterling wanted to protest. You’re a really beautiful woman. And who the heck is Minnie off the pickle boat?
At the door of the office, Nor let out a quick sigh, but a moment later she was wreathed in smiles as she stopped at table after table to exchange a few words with her patrons.
This place is full, Sterling noticed, and it’s obvious from the way Nor talks to everyone that they’re all regulars. They seem so glad to have a word with her. Well, she’s good. He listened as she inquired about someone’s mother,
someone’s son, another’s planned vacation, then congratulated a couple who had just become engaged.
The Heavenly Council will never tell her that she didn’t pay attention to other people, Sterling thought. That’s for sure. Too bad I wasn’t more like her.
Billy was deep in conversation with a man and woman at a corner table. Sterling decided to tune in. I hope nobody else joins us, he thought as he took the one empty chair. Then as he caught the gist of the conversation, he raised his eyebrows. These people were executives from Empire Recording Company, and they wanted to sign Billy to a contract.
The man was saying, “I don’t have to tell you the kind of people we’ve launched. We’ve been scouting you for a while, and you’ve got it, Billy. We’re offering you a two-album contract.”
“I’m very flattered and it sounds great, but you’ll have to talk to my agent,” Billy said, smiling.
He’s trying to hide that he’s thrilled, Sterling realized. It’s every young singer’s dream to be signed up by a record company. What a crazy day.
The last stragglers left the restaurant at 12:30. Nor and Billy sat at the bar with Dennis as he finished cleaning up. Nor held up a glass. “I’ve heard it’s bad luck to toast with water, but I’m going to take a chance. Here’s to Billy and the new contract.”
“Your dad would be so proud,” Dennis said.
“You bet he would.” Nor looked up. “Here’s to you, Bill, wherever you are up there. Your kid’s done good.”
I definitely have to meet him, Sterling told himself. He saw the suspicious touch of moisture in the eyes of all three. Billy was just about the age Marissa is now when he lost his dad. It must have been awfully tough on him and Nor.
“Let’s keep our fingers crossed that it all goes through,” Billy told them. “I don’t want to get too excited yet. That’ll wait until I have the offer in writing.”
“You will,” Nor assured him. “But you’re still singing with me here at Christmastime next year.”
“I know, Mom, and for free,” Billy laughed.
“You’ll have to hire a bouncer for crowd control,” Dennis declared. He folded a towel. “Okay, that’s it. Nor, you look awfully tired. Let me drive you home.”
He Sees You When You're Sleeping Page 5
