Hard Hat

by Bonnie Bryant

  Stevie was sure he was wrong. If there had been a body, they’d have had a medical examiner’s truck instead of the big van they’d brought. She was even surer there wasn’t a body when the van group returned and took a couple of dollies and handcarts back in with them.

  “What are those for?” Regina asked.

  “They use them to carry heavy things,” Stevie explained. “You see moving men with those.”

  “Oh, right,” said Regina.

  “Stevie,” said her mother. “Isn’t this exciting? There’s always something going on in New York!”

  Stevie nodded in agreement, but she wasn’t so sure. She was afraid this “excitement” was going to have some repercussions, and she was already thinking about what it was going to be like to be grounded for a year.

  For a long time nothing happened. Nobody moved from the street, and nobody came out of the house. The neighbors waited with anticipation.

  Then things started happening very quickly. The van crew began emerging from the house, their dollies and handcarts loaded down with filing cabinets. Each cabinet had wide yellow tape around it, stating POLICE EVIDENCE: DO NOT TAMPER.

  “That’s not evidence,” Stevie grumbled. “Those are just filing cabinets!”

  “The same ones we were sitting on a couple of hours ago,” said Regina.

  Stevie was pretty sure Regina was right about that, though she couldn’t tell the difference between one filing cabinet and another. On the other hand, she was quite certain there hadn’t been any other filing cabinets in the house.

  Then, just in time to reassure Stevie that they were, in fact, the same filing cabinets, an officer came out carrying a backpack, a container of chocolate milk, some cheese crackers, and a large bag of raisins.

  “TOAST,” REGINA SAID.

  The very word Stevie was going to use.

  “Hi, guys. How’s it going?” It was Peter. He was there with the rest of his family. They were all in their bathrobes, too.

  “Did you see that?” Regina asked, pointing to her backpack and its contents, now safely in the hands of the law.

  “How could you forget it?” Peter asked.

  “I wasn’t thinking of evidence,” said Regina. “I was just thinking about getting out of there!”

  “Maybe I should have thought of it,” said Stevie.

  “No, it’s my bag,” Regina said.

  “Well, the police don’t know that,” said Peter. “How could they find out?”

  “DNA evidence on the raisins,” Stevie said.

  “I suppose, or maybe fingerprints,” said Peter.

  “How about my name tag?” said Regina. “It’ll save them a lot of lab work if they just read it.”

  “You are so busted!” said Peter.

  “Will you visit me in jail?” Regina asked.

  “Visit you? We’ll be in adjoining cells!”

  “Oh, hi, Peter,” said Mrs. Evans. “Pretty exciting, isn’t it?”

  “It sure is, Mrs. Evans. But I guess we’ll probably never really know everything that’s going on here, will we?”

  Stevie wished he weren’t trying to be so helpful. It wasn’t helping, she was sure.

  “I would think we would,” said Mrs. Evans, correcting him. “I mean, this is our neighborhood. We’ll find out.”

  That was just what Stevie and Regina were dreading.

  Pretty soon the police began packing up their cars. They put up some yellow tape, declaring the house to be a crime scene and forbidding anyone from going inside. Stevie and Regina knew they would have no trouble following that rule!

  “Looks like the excitement is over,” said Mrs. Lake. “Let’s finish up that good night’s sleep.”

  Stevie followed her mother and Mrs. Evans back to the house, the two girls lagging behind the women by a few feet just in case there was anything they needed to discuss. There wasn’t, really. Both girls knew that in spite of Mrs. Lake’s enthusiasm about a good night’s sleep, it was going to be very hard for them to go back to bed. They both knew they hadn’t heard the end of the exciting activities of the night.

  “Maybe we’d better try to sleep,” said Regina.

  “Yeah, it’s going to be our last night of freedom, and we should enjoy it,” said Stevie. “I think the other shoe is going to drop tomorrow.”

  “More like a closetful of them,” Stevie said glumly.

  The girls followed their mothers into the house and headed straight for Regina’s room. They climbed into bed, turned out the light, and went to sleep. There wasn’t anything more to say.

  “REGINA?”

  At first it was a whisper, then louder.

  “Regina.”

  There was a knock.

  “Regina, are you awake?”

  “Girls—you need to wake up.”

  “Regina, Stevie. You have to get up. There are some people here to see you.”

  That sounded serious. Stevie sat up and looked around her. She was in a strange bedroom. No, she knew it. She’d been there before. She was in Regina’s bedroom. That was Regina’s mother talking. There was something very bright nearby. It was the sun coming through the window. That didn’t seem possible, though. She’d only just gone to sleep.

  “Get washed and dressed right away,” said Mrs. Evans. “Something has happened. They need your help.”

  Once the girls assured her that they were more or less awake and understood her message, Mrs. Evans left. The girls were now fully awake and the events of the previous evening were beginning to come back to Stevie. Those last two sentences Regina’s mother had spoken couldn’t possibly be good news.

  The look on Regina’s face made it clear that she’d had the same thought. The look had a name: dread.

  Reluctantly the girls got up, washed, and pulled on some clothes. Stevie paused in front of the mirror. Her reflection showed the same face she’d always known, admittedly not usually with such big circles under the eyes, but familiar nonetheless. She was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans—her favorite ones with the red embroidered design at the ankles—and a rather ratty pair of sneakers. It might not be very stylish, but she thought the look reflected her personality. She wondered how she would feel about horizontal stripes—or would she be in one of those places that made you wear orange? Orange wasn’t a good color for her. Lisa had told her that when she’d worn an orange T-shirt one day. Would Lisa and Carole be able to visit her? Would she ever see them again? She sighed and turned out the light. Time to face the music.

  Stevie and Regina descended the stairs to the second floor. Both their mothers were in the living room. It was eight-thirty in the morning. Stevie knew her mother was supposed to be at her appointment at nine o’clock.

  “Don’t you have to leave, Mom?” Stevie asked.

  “I think this is more important,” she answered. “I’ve already called the office and told them I’ll be late.”

  “Oh,” said Stevie.

  Two men stood up as the girls walked into the room. Mrs. Evans introduced them. “Girls, these are Detectives Eaken and Martin. Detectives, this is my daughter, Regina Evans, and her friend, Stephanie Lake.”

  “Stevie,” Stevie said, offering her hand politely just the way her mother had taught her and hoping that the men wouldn’t put cuffs on her right away.

  “Glad to meet you girls. I guess you’re pretty tired,” said Detective Martin. He was a middle-aged man with a narrow mustache that made him look like Walt Disney. Maybe there’s hope, Stevie thought.

  “Uh, yes,” said Regina.

  “Well, we know the whole neighborhood was up watching the excitement at the house on the corner,” said Detective Eaken. He was younger than Detective Martin. He was a thin man with thin lips and creases at the edges of his eyes that Stevie thought were from looking very closely at everything. He didn’t look like Walt Disney at all. And he didn’t look very friendly, either. “I guess the whole neighborhood pretty much lost a night’s sleep.”

  “Pretty much,
” Stevie agreed. She and Regina sat down. Mrs. Evans poured some coffee for the detectives and handed each of the girls a glass of orange juice.

  “Well, it was a big night for us, too,” said Detective Martin. “We’ve been combing through clues for hours. We were there last night, too, you know.”

  Stevie didn’t recognize him, but she nodded anyway. It seemed the polite thing to do. The detective paused.

  The mothers didn’t move. They were waiting just like their daughters. Stevie glanced over at her mother. Even in her hastily assembled outfit, Mrs. Lake managed to look like a lawyer. Her face was all business. Mrs. Evans, on the other hand, looked like a social worker, compassionate and interested. The mothers’ appearances were wasted, however. It was clear to Stevie that the detectives were interested in only two people in the room—Stevie and Regina.

  “I guess you have been busy,” Stevie said, encouraging the man. “You guys took a lot of stuff out of there.”

  As soon as she said the words, she cringed, realizing that they had taken a lot of stuff out of there, some of which she and Regina wished they hadn’t. Stevie found herself wishing that the floor would open below her, just as it had the night before, and swallow her up once again. Almost anything would be better than waiting for the detectives to get to the point.

  “Yes, we did,” said Detective Eaken. “And some of it was very interesting indeed. It all had to do with that house—you know, the one on the corner?”

  “Yes, that one,” said Mrs. Evans. “They’ve been renovating it for a long time. I guess the Perseys must be excited about moving in soon.”

  “Not real soon, ma’am,” said Detective Martin. “I don’t think they’d be too pleased with what’s been going on in there.”

  Kids, break-ins, broken floors, fires. No, Stevie didn’t think the Perseys would be too happy about any of that, either.

  “Well, there was some funny business last night, I’ll tell you,” said Detective Martin.

  “What happened?” Stevie’s mother asked.

  “That’s what we’d like to know,” said Detective Eaken. “It all started about midnight—a little before, actually.”

  Stevie sank back into the sofa. She knew she didn’t want to hear any of this. Regina did the same thing.

  Detective Martin pulled a little notebook out of his pocket and flipped some pages. Then he began talking.

  “There was a mounted policeman on the street at that time,” he said. “He was passing by that house—you know, the one on the corner where all the construction work is happening?” Yes, Stevie thought, we all know which house.

  “Seems he thought he heard someone calling for help. He stayed there quite a while, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. Funny guy, that officer. He’s made a bunch of reports that didn’t amount to anything, so people don’t tend to take him very seriously. Officer who cried wolf, you know what I mean?” The man paused.

  It took every single ounce of self-restraint that Stevie had not to look at Regina at that point. It was made easier by the fact that her mother looked at her. As soon as the man mentioned a horse, her mother seemed suspicious. Stevie didn’t have to pretend she was interested in what the detective was saying. She was interested.

  “Anyway, the guy couldn’t figure it out, but he thought it was worth investigating. So he rode on to where he was meeting his partner and the two of them came back. The partner swears they stood there for fifteen minutes to listen together. They didn’t hear anything.”

  Stevie knew it wouldn’t be wise to tell the detective that the two horses hadn’t waited at all. She clamped her lips together.

  “But they filed a report anyway.”

  Stevie gulped some orange juice.

  The detective continued. “Well, that brought out some guys in a squad car and a foot patrol. Naturally, the idea of someone calling for help, even if they couldn’t be heard anymore, is not something that can be ignored by the New York Police Department.”

  “Naturally,” said Mrs. Lake. Mrs. Evans agreed. The girls nodded.

  “So, they investigated. The squad car guys didn’t find anything at first, but they went into the alley next to the building on the other side of the block. You know the place?”

  Regina nodded.

  “Sure,” said her mother.

  “Well, they were looking around the yards for anything suspicious, and they saw something. They reported …” He flipped some more pages in his notebook. “They saw a large number of people, perhaps half a dozen, says here, all at the back of that house at exactly 2:34 A.M. You know the house? The one that’s being renovated?”

  They nodded again, wondering why he kept trying to describe the house that they all knew. Stevie thought it was for dramatic effect. If that was the case, or even if it wasn’t, it was working.

  “What were those people doing?” Stevie’s mother asked.

  Stevie groaned. Lawyers seemed to know how to get to the heart of the matter, which was exactly where Stevie didn’t want this to go.

  “Well, that’s what we’d like to know,” said the detective. “The perps dispersed extremely quickly, like they all had a plan of where to go when they split up. They were in a big hurry, says here,” he said, once again consulting his notebook.

  Of course they disappeared as fast as possible, Stevie thought. They were tired and scared. They wanted to get home! She didn’t share this thought with the detectives. Regina sat silent.

  “Anyway, we think we’ve got them—or most of them,” said Detective Eaken.

  Stevie gulped.

  “They’ve denied there was anyone else there, but we know there was. That’s one thing the officers are absolutely sure about. Five or six, they said in their reports. We’ve got two in custody. They could see the perps’ mode of egress—they’d come out of the basement of that building, the one on the corner—but the officers couldn’t get over the fences as fast as those guys and they’d gone already, like I said.”

  Two. Which two? It must be Peter and Ann, Stevie thought. Her heart sank for her friends.

  “Well, this escape action, plus the apparently unfounded cries for help, led to a full-scale investigation of the entire house, as you can imagine, ma’ams,” said Detective Eaken. “Full-scale,” he repeated.

  “Of course!” Stevie’s mother said.

  “That’s what we saw last night,” said Mrs. Evans.

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Detective Martin. “And when they gained entrance into the building, what they found was very interesting. Very interesting, indeed.”

  And incriminating, Stevie thought, still trying to sink into the depths of the sofa.

  “And incriminating,” said Detective Martin.

  At that moment Detective Eaken produced the very object that both Regina and Stevie had dreaded seeing. He reached into a large canvas bag and pulled out Regina’s backpack. He put it on the coffee table.

  Mrs. Evans’s brow furrowed. Regina paled. Stevie did, too. Mrs. Lake just looked. Of course, she wouldn’t have recognized it.

  “There was nobody in the house,” said Detective Eaken. “Nobody at all. They searched the place as much as they could, given the amount of construction going on.”

  “It must be almost done,” said Mrs. Evans. “They’ve been working on it for over a year, and I know the Perseys are hoping to move in very soon.”

  “Not likely, ma’am,” said Detective Martin. “Not for a long time.”

  “Why?” asked Mrs. Evans.

  “Because the place is nowhere near ready. Almost no work has been done and there are dangers everywhere. In fact, there’s even a big hole in the floor in what’s supposed to be the kitchen. There are no stairs above the parlor floor.”

  “But the Perseys have paid him a fortune! Estelle told me herself!”

  “Well, she may have paid a fortune, but it hasn’t been used for her benefit. More likely, it’s been used for the contractor’s benefit and is probably safely tucked into a Swiss b
ank account by now.”

  “He keeps sending her receipts for all the work he’s done,” said Mrs. Evans.

  “I think you could more correctly refer to that as the work he’s claimed to have done,” said Detective Martin.

  “See, what we found there were dozens of files. In fact, there was a whole room of filing cabinets and cartons that were filled with papers about work he’d been paid for at that house and at several other sites. This guy is a big-time fraud. I mean, big-time. Frank Justin is the man’s name, and he’s got a guy who works with him named Maurice Ayers. We’d thought there was some funny business going on for a while, since the buildings department found a pattern of problems with work he’s done. We couldn’t prove anything, though. We suspected bribery and extortion plus outright fraud, but there was no concrete evidence. Until last night.”

  Detective Martin continued the story. “What we found when we got into the house is enough evidence to send these guys up the river for a very long time. One interesting thing was that there was evidence of a fire, indicating the likelihood of some sort of insurance fraud scheme as well. These men are bad, big-time, and last night’s investigation is the culmination of a major effort on our part. It seems ironic that the whole thing came together just because one mounted policeman thought he heard someone calling for help. Can you imagine that?”

  Stevie could imagine that.

  “Of course, since we’ve had them under investigation, we knew where to find them. They’ve both been apprehended and are in custody now.”

  Apprehended. That meant arrested. That meant that the two people they’d caught weren’t Peter and Ann. It was Frank and Maurice. So what about Peter and Ann? Stevie thought.

  “These guys were into a lot of things,” said Detective Martin. “And last night’s investigation suggests there’s another side to this, too.”

  That was when he looked at the backpack and then at Regina.

  “Do you recognize this backpack?” he asked.

  Stevie could tell that Regina was wrestling with the truth. However, since the backpack had a large ID tag, and Regina’s name and address were clearly written on it, there didn’t seem to be much point in trying to deny it.