The Witch and the Borscht Pearl

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The Witch and the Borscht Pearl Page 25

by Angela Zeman


  “But why wouldn’t Pearl just call the police? Turn him in to the district attorney?” I asked.

  “Loyalty,” put in Mrs. Risk grimly. “She’s devoted to her old friends. They’ve been her only family all her life. Knowing Pearl, I can guess that the idea was for Bella to somehow encourage him to repent. Or at the very least, to restore her money and then quietly fade out of Pearl’s life and business. Pearl just wouldn’t have it in her to ruin him, which exposure assuredly would have done. Because of being orphaned, and then Bella’s and Stanley’s betrayal, she would want to soften the effects of Solly’s crime for herself as much as for him. She doesn’t deal with treachery especially well. And who can blame her?”

  She sat back with a sigh.

  Steve nodded, his head already clearing. Between bites of cake he said, “I couldn’t convince her to do anything else. She just suddenly shoved me out the door and threatened me if I told anybody.” Suddenly he stopped eating. “Which I just did. God, I’m finished.” He dropped his fork with a clatter and grasped his own ears, one in each hand, and tugged in a way that had to be painful.

  “No you’re not, dear. I won’t reveal you as my source.”

  He gaped at her. “But how else would you have found out?”

  She gave him a smile that involved no humor and gently pushed his hands away from his ears. “I’m a witch, aren’t I? I ‘conjured’ the information with tea leaves and bat’s tongues. Or so we’ll allow them to believe, won’t we, Steve,” she said, her voice like steel. Steve nodded uncertainly, his eyes wide and round.

  “Them?” I asked.

  “Pearl and Bella,” she replied grimly. “And whoever else bothers to wonder.” She leaned forward and grasped Steve’s forearm. He’d regained somewhat of his shiny look again. “How do you feel now?”

  “Like I just dropped a hundred pounds of lead from my shoulders,” he declared with a subtle burp. “How can I ever thank you?”

  “Don’t give it a thought. Maybe someday you can return the favor.” He could bank on that statement! Mrs. Risk achieved some of her best tricks by trading favors.

  “If anyone saw us together today and asks, tell them we spoke about Marvin and his wife, which we did. And tell them you never talk about clients’ affairs—it’s in the CPA’s code of ethics, you know, dear.”

  She edged the check towards him with a delicate finger and busied herself with her cloak. He clumsily regained his feet and pushed money into the waiter’s hand.

  “Can you drive now?” she asked, peering into his eyes. “Yes. You’ll do. Drop us back at Bella’s, dear, and leave everything in our hands. Have confidence in us.”

  In a few minutes we stood at Bella’s door, knocking as sedately as if we’d just arrived. I noticed that while we’d been chatting with Steve, another car had pulled into the drive and parked next to mine. A huge old brown Mercedes sedan, paint dulled with age and lack of care.

  Bella flung the door wide, startling me, and said in her throaty voice, “Well, more crows hunting carrion.” She slammed the door behind us when we’d stepped inside and stalked down the hall, assuming, I suppose, that we’d follow.

  We trailed after her as far as the dining room door, and discovered Bruce Altman gathering up papers and stuffing them into his briefcase. His vague eyes looked watery and the skin of his cheeks flushed and flaccid as if, like a balloon, he’d just been deflated. I could imagine that Bella was an expert deflator.

  “Leaving?” I said to him, smiling hopefully.

  He mumbled something indistinct.

  “Bruce thought I might be requiring a solicitor. He’s been offering his services. All of his services.”

  “Did you decline?” asked Mrs. Risk.

  “Oh, indeed. I would hope I could do better than him, frankly. If the need arose.” She asked us brightly, “Do you also bring me an offer? I’ve been having the most enlightening day, full to overflowing with helpful visitors.”

  “Well, it is true that I’ve brought you something.”

  “What is that?” Bella sat down without inviting us to join her and lit a cigarette. She blew a stream of smoke directly into Bruce’s face as he snapped the catch on his briefcase. He muffled a choked cough, stood, and moved towards the door, the set of his shoulders exuding resentment.

  Mrs. Risk stepped aside in the doorway so that he could leave the room, and then answered Bella coolly, in a low whisper, “I’ve brought you a motive for Pearl to kill Solly. His thefts. Interested?”

  Bella’s face paled. She scrubbed out the hardly smoked cigarette in an ashtray on the table. “Give me a moment. Yes. I’m interested.” She jumped up and walked swiftly out of the room, but turned left in the hallway and went upstairs.

  At the front door, Bruce reached for the door knob.

  “Bruce. A moment,” Mrs. Risk called out. She hastened towards him. He paused with the door half open.

  “You raped Ilene Fox,” she stated without preamble. “When she was sixteen years old.”

  He blinked his watery eyes and looked as if she’d struck him. His lips parted and he sucked in a breath of air. He said with a croak. “Who told you that?”

  “Do you deny it?”

  “Damn fucking right I deny it. Don’t believe everything those stupid fucking women tell you.” He flung the door all the way open with a swoop and left, briefcase swinging wildly.

  “No hard feelings. Just asking,” Mrs. Risk called brightly after him, but he either didn’t hear, or didn’t care to answer. He plunged into his car and drove off, spinning his balding tires on the driveway as he continued around the curve to exit the other side.

  I realized my mouth had fallen open, so I shut it. “He did it?”

  Mrs. Risk waved away the suggestion impatiently. “No. Or at least, I doubt it. I just wanted to see his reaction.” She gazed after him thoughtfully. “But I must remember that, Rachel.”

  “What?”

  “Not to believe everything those ‘stupid fucking women’ tell me.”

  She returned to the dining room.

  22

  WE SAT DOWN AT the table to wait. A stinking pile of cigarette butts smeared with fuchsia lipstick nearly hid the delicate peonies decorating Bella’s ashtray—known in its former life as a porcelain saucer. Ashes had snowed all over the corner of the table where she must have sat listening to Bruce’s proposal. Or proposition.

  To entertain myself I blew at the scattered ashes on the table and watched them float gently to the carpet.

  At this moment in through the swinging door from the kitchen burst Mrs. Harmon. “Smoking,” she muttered. In one hand she carried a soft long-handled brush with which she swept the ashes into a bucket. Into the bucket also went the butts from the saucer. She scrubbed furiously at the saucer with a rag, then tossed it back onto the table where it spun and clattered to a stop.

  “I thought you’d left already,” I said to her.

  “I live on the third floor.”

  “No, I mean for Florida. Aren’t you moving to Florida?”

  She kept working without looking at me. “Flight’s Monday.”

  “Oh. I’ll bet you’re really looking forward to retirement. No more cleaning, huh?”

  At that she looked up. “Ain’t the half of it. One more day in this place and I think I’ll puke. I hate smokers.”

  She turned to go, but Mrs. Risk suddenly said, “It was good of Solly to let you know you had a pension coming to you, so you could make plans.”

  Mrs. Harmon turned around and propped her bucket against her bulky thigh. “He was a good man, you know. Don’t know why anybody’d want to hurt him at all, let alone knock him off.” She shook her head and I detected the shine of threatening tears. “He always told me if I took care of him, he’d take care of me. And he did, too. I’m going to be living pretty tootin’ on what he set up for me. Have my own maid.”

  Mrs. Risk nodded. “Not bad.”

  “That says it. Not bad.”

  She turned
to go, but Mrs. Risk asked, “Would you mind terribly … when did he tell you about your pension?”

  “That? Oh, him and me talked about it for a couple ’a years before he actually went and did it in ’87. He invested a nice chunk in something or other, I don’t get just what. But it grew steady as death and taxes. There’s plenty of it now; and still a-growing. I’ll never have to worry ’bout runnin’ out of money.”

  “That’s wonderful. I’m happy for you. So Bella’s inheritance didn’t affect your pension at all?”

  Mrs. Harmon puckered her unlovely lips. “Nah. When he made his new will, he called us both in so’s we’d know just how we stood. Guess he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t worry because of his situation changing. He was considerate like that.” She turned back towards the door.

  “And that was in October?” Mrs. Risk asked her departing back as she plunged through the door.

  Just before the swinging door totally concealed Mrs. Harmon, her voice drifted back to us. “Wasn’t October. Like I told the cops, first o’ November.” The door closed.

  Mrs. Risk looked at me, eyebrows elevated. “So that’s why Michael sent for the French records of Stanley’s death.”

  Bella walked in from the hallway. She said with a coolness that wasn’t reflected by the flush across her cheeks, “Pearl’s on her way. I imagine you won’t mind waiting.” She pulled back a chair and sat, sliding one leg smoothly over the other to cross them.

  Without invitation, Mrs. Risk circled around and selected a chair across the table from Bella. My position between them at the head of the table made me feel uncomfortably like the mediator at a debate. The atmosphere crackled with tension, although to look at the bland expressions on Bella’s and Mrs. Risk’s faces, we could be gathered for a small dinner party.

  Solly gazed down over our heads in good humor. I glanced up at him in resentment.

  A distant slow ticking in the unaccustomed silence reminded me that somewhere in the house Solly had an old grandfather clock. Tick. Tick. Tick. It didn’t ‘tock,’ for some reason. Pearl had lied. And now we knew, Bella had lied. Had anyone told the truth? What about the faithful Zoë? I started drumming my nails on the table top, but Mrs. Risk hissed at me and I stopped.

  She leaned forward and said across the table to Bella, “I believe I do mind waiting for Pearl, after all. I think I’d rather spend this time discussing with you alone why Pearl switched her digoxin with Solly’s saccharin.” She leaned back in her chair. The opening shot.

  I stared at Mrs. Risk, suspicious of this drastic change of position. Had she suddenly become convinced of Pearl’s guilt, after all?

  Bella stood abruptly, nearly knocking her chair over. “Pearl never touched—would never—” She sputtered to an incoherent stop. Sputtering did not seem natural from the reserved Bella.

  Mrs. Risk stated, “Pearl’s told a great many lies. To everyone, not just to me, not just to the police, but to every single one of her friends. That’s a lot of lying.”

  “Yes, and I heard Mrs. Harmon telling you—I wondered how long it would take someone to ask her. I lied, too.”

  “You also heard her say that the police asked her before I did?”

  “Yes. What of it? They haven’t said anything to me about it, maybe they don’t think it’s signific—”

  “You’re too shrewd to believe that for a second. At this moment they’re digging through old French files, taking a second look at Stanley’s death—an unsolved murder, wasn’t it?”

  “The French police were fools. He hit his head or got a cramp or something. His drowning—”

  “He didn’t drown,” I interrupted.

  Mrs. Risk’s eyes never left Bella’s face. Bella stared at me, her lips staying parted for a second before she closed them.

  “No water in his lungs,” I added. “Maybe he poisoned himself from grief at having run off with the wrong sister, then fell in the water.”

  She tore her gaze from me to stare then at Mrs. Risk.

  “Melodramatic, but a possibility,” Mrs. Risk said. “Yes, you’ve also lied. And your lie is an important one. You knew you would inherit Solly’s estate. And with your past record of working cons, you’ve spent years developing a habit of not respecting laws—a habit of living that can be difficult to change.”

  “A habit born of desperation,” said Bella intensely.

  “Born rather, shall we say a bit more truthfully, of the arrogance of believing oneself not subject to rules, and of contempt for others’ rights and feelings,” corrected Mrs. Risk.

  “Possibly. But if one finally … learns … and abandons that arrogance, the reputation is not so easily abandoned,” said Bella.

  “Thus the lie, do you mean?” Mrs. Risk nodded. “Understandable, if true. However, the true reason behind the lie might still be to avoid rightful suspicion. So you had a motive, and Pearl had a motive. Both very good ones.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” Bella said, “posing as some kind of detective. You’re just a frustrated woman, with too little else to occupy you. Sticking your nose into other people’s private affairs.”

  I remembered my trouble with my now deceased husband. If she hadn’t interfered, I would’ve died. “No. Listen to her, Bella,” I found myself urging her.

  Mrs. Risk flashed me a warm smile that was gone so fast that I wondered if I’d imagined it.

  She continued, “So, knowing you would inherit, possibly you thought, why wait? Why not kill him now and proceed straight to your reward? Obviously you never succeeded in getting him to confess to you and restore the funds he’d stolen from Pearl.”

  At Bella’s startled look, she nodded. “Oh, yes. I know all about your plan. Solly systematically stole from Pearl, skimming her income for twelve years.”

  Nobody spoke.

  Finally, Mrs. Risk continued. “Add to that what Pearl told me, that her present circumstances are a result of his advice to her.”

  Bella’s gaze sharpened. “Circumstances? What circumstances?”

  “Yes, I wondered if you knew. Evidently your sister hasn’t told you the entire truth either. Under Solly’s management, she received far less than she was entitled to from her work, and then lost even that to her failed projects, plus more losses from guarantees he had her give the other investors. I’d say she got some very bad advice. Amazingly bad, considering how skilled he was at investing for himself. Do you sense the pattern? A pattern of deliberate, guided disaster?” She examined Bella’s shocked look. “I see that you do.”

  Mrs. Risk added, “Then Solly has the temerity to drop her in favor of her sister, repeating a traumatic event from her past.”

  Bella rushed to say, “Pearl wanted me to become romantically involved with him.”

  “Did she want you to marry him?”

  Bella’s face paled. “I—” She looked away. As she moved, the lights from the chandelier reflected in her dark glossy hair, which she’d twisted into a simple French roll. It suited her. “He asked me to marry him. It just—happened.” Suddenly she considered Mrs. Risk. “How do you know all this?”

  “I know many things,” said Mrs. Risk with a faint smile. “Did you love Solly?” Mrs. Risk’s tone had softened. “Zoë says you didn’t. That you never did. Would you have actually married him?”

  Bella waved one hand in the air, as if warding off evil. “Of course I loved him. Why would I have—”

  “Your posing is of no benefit to you now. You mustn’t defend Pearl any longer. You’ll end up taking the blame for her.”

  “I’m not taking anybody’s blame. Pearl has done nothing to defend.”

  “I don’t believe you. Neither will the police.”

  Bella stiffened. “So it’s true. You’re here as a spy, gathering information to convict Pearl for something she didn’t do.”

  Mrs. Risk made a noise of disgust. “What country do you think you’re in? Our police don’t operate that way. The police want what I want—the truth.”

  “Well, the
truth is—”

  “The truth is, Bella was trying to please me, as penance for a child’s foolish impulse.” Pearl walked in.

  She smiled kindly at Bella, then stared coldly at Mrs. Risk. “I asked her for help and she gave it. In fact, she gave much more than I ever imagined would be required.”

  “What kind of help would that be? To trick restitution out of a thief? To prostitute herself for money? Your money?” Mrs. Risk rose to her feet. Her eyes glittered. I stood also. I glanced from one woman to the other—three formidable females.

  Pearl said, “Solly felt betrayed by me.” She raised one hand as if to stop Mrs. Risk from commenting. “I know that he was taking revenge on me for loving Bernie and not him. At the last, he couldn’t stand it any more.” She lowered her hand. “I became the enemy.”

  She smiled sadly, “You talk about your irony. I, who’d felt betrayed by those who were supposed to love me, was betrayed again by one who also swore he loved me. I was the betrayed one, not him. But I can see how he thought differently.

  “Actually, I owe this ability to see his side of it to you, Mrs. Risk. Over the past years of our friendship, I’ve learned a lot from you. To face the truth about myself. About other people. Before you, I’d pretended everyone around me was perfect, which is ridiculous. I was so afraid somebody might do something terrible to me again, something that would hurt as bad as … don’t worry, Hon,” she said to Bella, who’d lowered her head with a stricken look.

  Pearl shook her head. “I admit it. Until I met you, Mrs. Risk, a lot of lying went on, by my friends to me, and by me to myself. Viv always told me I was a lousy judge of character. Bella agreed.”

  “When she arrived August first she agreed?” asked Mrs. Risk.

  Pearl nodded, then did a double take. “You even know the exact date. You’ve been busy.”

  “Tell me about your plan. Yours and Bella’s. To turn Solly around.”

 

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