Chapter Twenty-One
“I figure that if the children are alive when I get home, I’ve done my job.”
–Roseanne Barr
As soon as Essie retreated back into her apartment, the phone rang again. It’s amazing that baby Antonio is able to sleep through all the racket, thought Essie. She grabbed the receiver on the second ring and greeted the caller.
“Essie,” said the familiar voice of Opal. “At the risk of setting you off again . . .”
“Opal, I’m sorry,” said Essie. She had been unnecessarily curt with her friend the last time they had spoken.
“It’s fine, Essie,” replied Opal, calmly. “What’s this I hear about Hubert Darby giving you a Kriegsted necklace?”
“I see Marjorie wasted no time in spreading the word,” replied Essie as she collapsed into her chair. “What am I going to do, Opal?”
“Describe this necklace to me, Essie,” demanded Opal, “and tell me exactly what it looks like.”
“It’s just like I told Marjorie,” said Essie, “it’s a gold pendant on a gold chain.”
“Does it look real?” asked Opal.
“I don’t know, Opal,” replied Essie, annoyed. “I’m not one for fancy jewelry. I’m not sure I’d know real from fake if my life depended on it.”
“Hold it up to a light,” said Opal.
“And what’s that going to prove?” asked Essie. “I wrapped it back up in the paper. I’m going to return it to Hubert as soon as the quarantine is lifted.”
“Essie, that necklace could be worth a lot of money!”
“All the more reason to return it!” Essie exclaimed. “I can’t take an expensive gift from Hubert Darby. I barely know the man!”
“Yes,” agreed Opal. “You are the epitome of propriety, Essie. You with that little secret swaddled in your bedroom.”
“Stop it, Opal!” chided Essie. “I’m trying to do what’s right. Taking care of this baby while we search for his mother is right. Accepting expensive jewelry from Hubert Darby is not right.”
“Fine! Fine!” replied Opal. “I don’t know what I can do about either of these problems, Essie from my room. I wish I could be there to help you care for Antonio. Is he doing well?”
“Yes, Opal,” said Essie, “he’s fine. I’m just in a tizzy trying to keep him a secret from people.”
“Is anyone else suspicious?” asked Opal.
“Clara,” replied Essie, “of course. She’s suspicious of the postman.”
“You are the lucky one having her for a neighbor,” said Opal, commiserating.
“Yes,” agreed Essie. “She caught Santos giving me a little hug out in the hallway a bit ago and imagined we were having some wild tempestuous affair and immediately reported it to Violet!”
“No!” exclaimed Opal.
“Yes!” said Essie. “And of course Violet was at my door in an instant to scold me for fraternizing with the help.”
“She didn’t see Antonio, did she?” asked Opal, aghast.
“No!” said Essie. “I managed to keep her in the hallway and, luck would have it, Antonio was asleep.”
“Thankfully, newborns tend to sleep most of the time,” said Opal.
“Yes,” said Essie, “thankfully. If he were older, he’d surely be more demanding and I wouldn’t have a minute to rest. I wouldn’t have a minute to sit here and chat with my friends.”
“Okay, Essie,” said Opal, “I get the message. I just called because Marjorie told me you were worried about this necklace that Hubert gave you and she thought I could help.”
“I’m sorry, Opal,” replied Essie, chagrinned. “Do you really think this necklace is worth a lot of money?”
“If it’s from Kreigsted’s and not just in a Kreigsted’s box,” suggested Opal, “then from how you describe it, it could be worth thousands of dollars.”
“Thousands!” cried Essie.
“Yes, Essie!” replied Opal, severely. “If that’s 24 carat gold in the necklace . . . I’d say you’re talking many thousands of dollars.”
“I wish you could see this necklace, Opal,” said Essie, wistfully. “Maybe I’m imagining it.”
“I could tell you, Essie,” said Opal, “if I could just see the necklace. I do fancy myself somewhat of a jewelry expert. As you know, I have this opal that . . .”
“Yes, yes,” replied Essie petulantly. “I do wish you could look at it, but how am I supposed to get it to you to show you? Nobody is allowed to be out and about because of the quarantine.”
“None of the residents, you mean,” said Opal. “You could have one of the staff members bring it up to me. Maybe that Santos, the one who conned you into caring for baby Antonio? Surely, he could run a . . . uh . . . Christmas present from your place up to mine?”
“Hmm,” said Essie, thinking aloud. “Let me consider that. I’ve had him chasing all over the place looking for Maria. The poor man barely has time to do his kitchen duties let alone have a life of his own.”
“It’s his fault!” cried Opal. “He could have . . . should have turned that baby over to the authorities the minute he realized his mother was not going to return when she said she would!”
“His heart’s in the right place, Opal,” argued Essie. “Besides, that isn’t the question. The question for you is what to do about the necklace . . . and Hubert Darby.”
“Yes, your swain,” replied Opal, deadpan. Sometimes, Essie had difficulty determining whether or not Opal was teasing her.
“What was Hubert thinking of?” Essie responded with a moan. “He barely speaks to me.”
“He obviously has feelings for you,” said Opal, “and he obviously has more money than any of us had ever imagined if that necklace is worth what I think it is.”
“Maybe I should call him and discuss this with him,” pondered Essie.
“I’d say just wait until they lift the quarantine and then return it to him and explain your reasoning. It’s probably better to do this in person,” said Opal.
“I guess you’re right,” said Essie. “How did I get myself in this predicament?”
“I guess by being so irresistible to men, Essie,” noted Opal, dryly.
“Holy gladiola, Opal!” cried Essie, “that’s the last thing I am!”
“No man has offered me any expensive jewelry since I’ve been living at Happy Haven,” noted Opal, a bit wistfully.
“Stop! We don’t know for sure it’s expensive!” said Essie. “I’m going on the premise it’s costume jewelry until I find out otherwise.”
“I’d be glad to provide you with that assurance,” said Opal confidently, “if you’ll just have your new boyfriend bring that necklace up to my place for an appraisal.”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” cried Essie. “How can he be, when I’m obviously taken by Hubert?” Essie laughed at her own predicament. It was a good thing her husband John was not alive to hear her discussing, not one but, two ‘boyfriends’! “I’ll do what I can, Opal.” They both hung up and Essie contemplated whether or not she should bother Santos again while he was working in the kitchen. Another phone call settled the issue for her.
“Miss Essie,” said the now familiar voice of the young man who had started the entire baby fiasco. “I take smoke break. I check with you. See if you find more about Maria.”
“No, Santos,” she replied, “I haven’t found anything new that might help us locate her. I think your finding her name tag in the woods near her apartment is our best clue so far. It tells us she was there recently, but is no longer. At the moment, we’re at a roadblock. And we . . . or rather I have another . . . little problem that you may be able to help me with.”
“Yes, Miss Essie,” he said. “I can help you with problem.”
“My family is coming over tonight at five o’clock to take me out to dinner,” she reported over the phone. “Obviously, I can’t leave Antonio alone. I tried to put them off, but they are determined. And my friends can’t watch him because they’re all quarant
ined!”
“I can help, Miss Essie,” he said. “I take Antonio to supply closet while you go to dinner with family!” His apparent pride in his idea was audible in his voice.
“Would you?” she asked with joy. “That would certainly solve the problem, and we could keep Antonio’s existence a secret a bit longer. Maybe Maria will return by tomorrow.”
“I hope so, Miss Essie,” said Santos. “What time I come to your apartment to get Antonio?”
“Maybe around 4:30?” she asked.
“Si, Miss Essie, is no problemo!”
“Oh, and Santos,” she added, “there is one other little errand I’d like you to perform for me if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Miss Essie,” said Santos, “I do all your errands. You need Santos do your lavandos? Your laundry?”
“No, Santos,” she replied smiling over the phone, “something much easier. Can you come to my apartment for just a moment? I’ll explain when you get here.”
“I be there fast fast, Miss Essie!” said the young man. He said good-bye and hung up.
“I’d better get going!” said Essie to herself with a huff. “Of all the times Claudia would choose to take me out, she had to pick the one day when I’m in the middle of a major crisis.”
Essie glanced at her watch and saw that it was after four in the afternoon. She had less than an hour to get ready before her three children–Prudence, Claudia, and Kurt–arrived to whisk her off to Antonio’s Italian Restaurant, and, no, the irony of the fact that her favorite Italian restaurant shared the same name as the little boy asleep on her bed was not lost on her.
I’d better be sure I have everything ready for Santos to take care of Antonio, she thought. She quickly rolled to her kitchen and cleaned out one of the glove bottles and filled it with fake formula. She got out a sack from under her sink and filled it with an extra bottle that Marjorie had supplied from her stock and five or six pairs of make-shift diapers. She then scooted to her bedroom and selected a nice outfit to wear to dinner and returned to her living room where she sat on her sofa and slowly changed from her everyday trousers and pull-on shirt into a nicer pair of dress pants and fancy blouse. Putting on the outfit was difficult without the help of one of her aides, but today she attempted it herself because she didn’t want any staff members in her apartment any longer than was necessary–in case they discovered Antonio’s presence. When she was dressed and had Antonio’s overnight bag packed and waiting by the doorway, she headed into her bedroom with a full glove bottle, because she knew it would soon be time for the little fellow to wake up and when he did . . . he’d be hungry!
Chapter Twenty-Two
“What good mothers and fathers instinctively feel like doing for their babies is usually best after all.”
–Dr. Benjamin Spock
Like clockwork, baby Antonio was soon stirring and Essie transferred him to his walker basket and rolled back to the living room where she ensconced herself and the infant in her lounger to enjoy their time together. Antonio quickly finished off the bottle he had started earlier and Essie and the infant were soon locked together in a delightful “conversation” while she waited for an appropriate number of burps and the eventual filling of the pants. She held the tot over her shoulder and gently rocked him back and forth. Antonio cooed and his tiny head wobbled around as he seemed to be taking in the sights and sounds nearby. Essie inhaled the relaxing odor of the holiday incense still wafting around her living room. She wondered if Antonio found its smell as calming as she did. The little fellow did seem remarkably relaxed and happy. Maybe those wise men were on to something, mused Essie. Frankincense and myrrh may just be the ideal aromas for calming babies. Antonio’s head turned to Essie’s end table and his gaze was suddenly fixated on the golden necklace from Hubert Darby that Essie had left sitting on top of its gift box and wrapping paper. She looked at the baby’s eyes as the sparkle from the necklace reflected in his pupils. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh! Ah, yes! The three traditional Christmas gifts for a Christmas baby. And this baby seemed to be enjoying them all.
Enough reverie, Essie thought. As she rocked and hummed to the baby, she thought about the next few hours and how she would handle them. She really didn’t want to go out anywhere tonight, but her children were insistent and her son Kurt didn’t get to come down to see her all that often, so she felt obligated to spend time with him when he was in town. Of course, she would see him on Christmas–she would see all of her children and grandchildren–but she really wanted to spend some extra time with her only son away from all the hustle and bustle of a huge family get-together that would occur on Christmas day at Claudia’s.
A soft knock on the door alerted her. Santos stuck his head in. When she saw his masked face, she motioned him inside and gestured for him to close the door behind him.
“Miss Essie,” he whispered, pulling down his face mask, “Baby awake! Santos come quick, quick! Help Miss Essie.”
“Santos, here take this!” said Essie, reaching over to her end table and picking up the golden necklace. As she lifted it over the baby’s head, little Antonio followed the jewelry with his entire face. “Santos, can you please take this necklace up to Miss Opal in B227? She’s expecting it.”
“Very nice gift,” said Santos, carefully taking the necklace from Essie. “You want to put in box, Miss Essie?”
“Oh, no!” replied Essie, “it’s not a gift. It’s a problem . . . oh . . . it’s too complicated to explain . . . but I want Opal to examine . . . to look at it. She’s more knowledgeable about these things than I am.”
“Yes, Miss Essie,” said Santos, cautiously holding the delicate chain and pendant with both hands. “I take to Miss Opal. B227?”
“Yes, B227,” she said. “Thank you, Santos.”
“I go, Miss Essie. I be back for baby at 4:30.”
Santos quickly slipped out of Essie’s apartment, leaving Essie alone. She saw that Antonio was starting to get sleepy so she put him back in his basket and rolled him back to her bedroom and wrapped him tightly in his blankets and set him on her bed. She sat next to him and hummed to him gently. Soon the infant was fast asleep. Essie returned to her living room and had barely sat back down in her chair when her telephone rang.
“Essie,” said Opal, when Essie answered the phone, “this necklace is quite lovely. It certainly looks like real gold to me.”
“So it’s not just costume jewelry?” asked Essie.
“No,” she said. “Either Hubert Darby is wealthy and knows he’s giving you an expensive piece of jewelry or he’s in possession of this necklace and has no idea what it’s worth.”
“What do you think it’s worth?” probed Essie.
“If it’s twenty-four carat gold, which it looks like to me,” suggested Opal, “I’d say it’s worth several thousands of dollars. Maybe ten thousand. Maybe even twenty thousand!”
“Popping pandas!” exclaimed Essie. “What’s the matter with that man? Why would he do this? And he led me to believe it was a box of peanut brittle!”
“He probably thought you wouldn’t accept it if you knew it was expensive jewelry!” said Opal.
“And he would have been right!” answered Essie. “I wonder if he gives things like this to all of the women he’s courted.”
“Essie,” said Opal, “I thought you knew. Everyone says that Hubert is a bachelor. He’s never been married. Some residents think he’s never even had a girlfriend . . . or woman friend. You’re his first!”
“Lucky me!” whined Essie. “I don’t want or need a boyfriend!”
“Not even a rich one?” asked Opal.
“No!” retorted Essie. “I’m perfectly happy the way things are. I’m happy to be Hubert’s friend. I’m happy to be friends with many people, but I’m not looking for anything else. What a mess!”
“I’m sorry, Essie,” replied Opal. “Shall I have Santos bring the necklace back to you?”
“Is he still there?” asked Essie, incredulous that Opal wou
ld force the young man to wait while the two of them chatted about such a personal matter.
“No, Essie,” said Opal, “but I can call him and have him come back up to my room.”
“Let me think,” said Essie. “If I talk to Santos and he has time, I may have him go up and get the necklace and bring it back to me. But, there’s no reason to rush to do that now. It’s not as if I can give it back to Hubert today. Not with the quarantine. I’m certainly not going to have Santos deliver it to Hubert. I need to speak to Hubert myself–face to face.”
“I’d like to be there to see that,” said Opal, slyly.
Papoosed: An Essie Cobb Senior Sleuth Mystery Page 15
