Curse of the Jade Lily: A McKenzie Novel

by David Housewright

  India had plenty more to say about jade in general—“The Chinese word for jade is yu, which translates to mean noble, pure, jewel, or treasure, take your pick”—and the Lily in particular—“Breathtakingly exceptional quality. It must have been done by one of the finest craftsmen in history, and we’ll never know his name. How sad is that?”—which made me think she didn’t mind being in her end of the business at all.

  I have to admit that I am one of those guys who knows nothing about art but knows what he likes, and I liked India’s enthusiasm for the Jade Lily. It must be saved, I decided.

  While I was deciding this, the door opened and Perrin walked in, followed by Mr. Donatucci and a man who was a little over or a little under forty, with hair that was thinning on top and clothes that were too tight. He breathed as if he were asthmatic. Either that or he was so out of shape that the simple act of walking down the corridor was enough to leave him breathless. Being a semiprofessional unlicensed private detective, I deduced that he had put on a lot of weight recently and wasn’t used to carrying it around yet.

  Perrin introduced us. “Mr. Gillard, this is McKenzie,” she said.

  “Ahh, the famous Rushmore McKenzie,” he said. He shook my hand briskly and smiled. “So they talked you into retrieving the Lily after all. Foolish, foolish man.”

  “I hope not,” I said. “Have you met India Cooper?”

  Gillard spun toward her. “Ms. Cooper,” he said. “Always a pleasure.”

  Donatucci spoke up. “I was telling Mr. Gillard—”

  “Jerry, Jerry,” Gillard said. “Everyone is so formal around here.”

  “I was telling Jerry that the money is ready,” Donatucci said. “It’s been gathered, marked, bagged—”

  “What does that mean, marked?” Gillard asked. “Do you put a little blue dot in the upper right corner or something?”

  “The bills are funneled through a couple of scanners featuring optical character recognition software,” I said. “When the process is complete, you’ll have an electronic file containing the images of the bills—front and back—as well as all of the serial numbers. That way, if we do catch the artnappers and they do have the money on them, we can prove the bills were part of the ransom.”

  “Do we really want to catch these guys? Once we pay off the ransom and get the Lily back, no harm, no foul, am I right?”

  “How ’bout that, Mr. Donatucci?” I said. “One-point-three million. No foul?”

  “Our primary concern is retrieving the Jade Lily,” he said.

  “Of course. Anyway…” I turned back to Gillard. “The thieves won’t get away scot-free. The cops will go after them. Lieutenant Rask will insist on it.”

  “Sounds like somebody else’s problem,” Gillard said. “Where’s the money now?”

  “In a vault in the Midwest Farmers Insurance Group offices in downtown St. Paul,” Donatucci said. “Three bags, each weighing exactly thirty-two-point-six pounds as instructed. When the call comes, we’ll hand off the bags to McKenzie in the parking ramp under our building. There will be several armed guards keeping watch.”

  “Hope they’re more reliable than the guards working here,” Gillard said. “Ohhh,” he added as he spun to face Perrin. She winced as he faked a couple of punches. “Low blow. A foul is called. The ref deducts points. No kidding, Perrin. Don’t worry about it. I’m not. So what happens next?”

  “We wait until the thieves call,” I said.

  “Well, we don’t have to wait here, do we? McKenzie, what’s this bar you were telling me about?”

  We decided to drive separately since I might have to abandon him at a moment’s notice. I gave Gillard detailed directions on how to reach Rickie’s from the museum; he had a navigation system in his rental car, but we both agreed that it couldn’t be trusted. I asked Mr. Donatucci if he wanted to join us. He declined, saying that he would return to the office and wait for my call.

  Perrin thanked me again for agreeing to recover the Lily, but I blew her off. I wasn’t sure why, but I was having fun again.

  As we were leaving the storage area, India called my name. I turned. She tossed the magnifying glass to me. I caught it with both hands and stuffed it in my pocket.

  “Good luck,” she said.

  * * *

  Gillard was parked illegally in front of the museum. I told him that this wasn’t Chicago and that fixing or ignoring parking tickets was not a privilege generally enjoyed by the better-heeled citizenry. He suggested that was just another reason why Minneapolis was considered a backwater burg. I told him to wait for me at the corner while I went to the ramp for my car.

  The vehicle was parked on the third floor, but instead of taking the elevator, I jogged up the stairs. Seeing Gillard made me realize that I could afford to lose a few pounds myself. I used to exercise every day, take martial arts training to keep sharp, target practice at the range. Nowadays, I spent too much time puttering around in my kitchen and playing too many rounds of golf from a cart. You could see it on the ice. I’m slower, relying too much on my stick, not taking the body like I used to. I tell myself that I’m getting older, that’s why I’ve lost a step, even as I applaud myself for still playing hockey thirty weeks out of the year. That was just rationalization, though—the last refuge of a loser. The truth is, I was getting lazy. I was starting to enjoy my money too much.

  I was breathing hard when I reached my floor, but not too hard. A couple of days in the gym and I’d be as good as new, I told myself. My car, a phantom black (that’s the color, honest) Audi S5 coupe with all the bells and whistles that I picked up at the bargain price of $71,000, was parked a half-dozen stalls from the door. I used to drive an Audi TT 225 until it was shot to death by a thug armed with an MP-9 submachine gun. I had been extra careful with this car, storing it in the garage for most of the winter, preferring to let my beaten-up four-wheel-drive Jeep Cherokee do the heavy lifting. However, among other things, the Audi had a splendid security system, and if I was going to schlep around a million-three in cash … I used my remote control key chain to disable the alarm and unlock the doors. I was reaching for the door handle when I heard him.

  “McKenzie.”

  He screamed my name loud enough from close enough to make me leap half a foot in the air. I spun around and went into a clumsy karate stance.

  God, you’re out of shape, my inner voice reminded me.

  Lieutenant Noehring was standing in front of me, a brilliant smile on his face. He enjoyed startling me. His hands were inside the pockets of his Italian wool overcoat. I had no idea what was in his hands inside his pockets.

  “Jumpy, jumpy,” he said.

  “Noehring,” I said as if pronouncing his name would placate my fear.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said.

  “This is the third time we’ve met in the past three days. Once more and I’ll have you cited for harassment.”

  “Not to worry, not to worry.” He removed his hands from his pockets, showing me that they were empty. “Just trying to make a point.”

  “What point is that?”

  “I can reach out to you anytime I want.”

  “Good for you.”

  “But bad for you.” Noehring smiled his Robert Redford smile again. “Just remember what I told you and it’ll all work out.”

  “You must have checked on me. You can’t possibly believe I’m going to give you the ransom. You’re not that fucking stupid.”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such language. You know, you should do a little research of your own before you make such an important decision. Ask for some advice.”

  “From whom?”

  “Nina Truhler. Her daughter, Erica, too. Seems to me you’re sweet on both of them.”

  “Do you want to die, Noehring?”

  He smiled again. “All I want is the money,” he said. “I’ll get it, by hook or by crook. Think about it, McKenzie. Make it easy on yourself. And your friends.”

  He turned then and walke
d swiftly to the stairwell. He disappeared behind the door. I didn’t know if he went up or down.

  I slipped behind the steering wheel of the Audi and gripped it tightly while I fought my anger, telling myself to relax, relax, breathe, breathe. It was difficult. Noehring had threatened Nina and Erica. It was a calculated risk on his part because if he had indeed checked me out, he would know that I would kill for them.

  I started the Audi and sat for a moment, listening to the engine purr while I pondered the same question I had asked myself the day before.

  “How the hell did he know I was here?”

  * * *

  Gillard had no trouble following me to Rickie’s, and we entered the club together. I suggested a booth, but he liked the bar, so we pulled up a couple of stools and sat. Jenness Crawford was spelling the regular bartender, and after greeting us, she asked for our drink preferences.

  “Let’s get this settled right now,” Gillard said. He tapped his chest with both hands. “Everything is on me. McKenzie’s money is no good here.”

  “McKenzie’s money has never been good here,” Jenness said.

  “Huh?”

  “My girlfriend owns the place,” I said.

  “That’s wonderful,” Gillard said. He looked directly into Jenness’s eyes. “You are lovely.”

  Jenness blushed. She knew she was blushing and brought her hands to her cheeks to hide it.

  “That may be so,” I said, “but Jenness is not my girlfriend.”

  “Even better,” Gillard said. He stood on the rungs of the stool and leaned over the bar, his hand extended.

  “Hi, I’m Jeremy Gillard.”

  Jenness returned the handshake. “I’m Jenness Crawford,” she said. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Gillard said.

  So the dance began, the two of them taking turns trying to outflirt each other. I might have been amused by the exchange except I kept thinking about Noehring and what he had said. Somehow my Summit Ale was served without my noticing. I took a long pull and wondered, how many times have I put Nina in danger? Just that once, I reminded myself, but that was already once too often, and I had vowed to never do it again. Now this.

  My frustration must have shown on my face, because when Nina came out of her office and saw me sitting at the bar she asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, that’s just my friend McKenzie psyching himself up for the big game like any great athlete,” Gillard said. “See the ball, be the ball.”

  “What big game?” Nina asked. “Who are you? Never mind. McKenzie. McKenzie, you’re going after the Lily, aren’t you? You said you weren’t.”

  “What do you know about the Jade Lily?” Gillard asked.

  “This is my boss, Nina Truhler,” Jenness told him.

  “Alrighty then,” Gillard said. “You’re McKenzie’s squeeze. I get it now. This is a great joint you have here, Nina.”

  Nina ignored him. “McKenzie,” she said, “I thought you said you were washing your hands of it.”

  “Some unscrupulous types appealed to his benevolent nature,” Gillard said. “They also doubled his fee. Hi, I’m Jerry Gillard. I own the Lily.”

  “Then you’re one of those unscrupulous types.”

  “Whose guiltlesse hart is free from all dishonest deeds or thought of vanitie.” Gillard glanced at Jenness. “Thomas Campion,” he said.

  “Nice,” Jenness said.

  “McKenzie?” Nina said.

  “It’s complicated,” I told her.

  “It always is.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I guess I’ll have to go back to worrying again.”

  “Nina…” I let the rest of the sentence hang there. We’ve had this conversation so many times in the past. I reached out and rested my hand on top of hers. She turned her hand over so she could hold mine.

  “That’s sweet,” Gillard said.

  “Does this change of heart have anything to do with Heavenly Petryk?” Nina asked.

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  Nina released my hand and wagged her finger at the entrance to the club. Gillard and I both turned to look. Heavenly was standing just inside the doorway, unwinding a long muffler from around her neck.

  “Who is she?” Gillard asked.

  “Oh, perfect,” I said. “Just perfect.”

  “She just might be,” Gillard said.

  “Oh, puhleez,” Jenness said.

  Gillard turned just in time to see her sliding down to the end of the bar.

  “What did I say?” he said.

  Heavenly made her way to where we were sitting. She removed her coat and draped it over the back of a stool. Her smile reminded me of the promise on a package of lightbulbs I had recently purchased—“Lasts up to 10 times longer while using 75% less energy.”

  “McKenzie, I thought I might find you here,” she told me. “Hello, Nina. You look good. Have you had work done?”

  “Heavenly,” Nina replied. “You cause so much joy whenever you go.”

  Heavenly smiled at that. “Good one,” she said.

  “Heavenly,” Gillard said. “You just might be the most aptly named woman I have ever met.”

  “Oh brother,” Nina said before she, too, left the area.

  “You know something, Jer?” I said. “You deserve this, you really do.”

  “Deserve what?”

  “Heavenly Petryk, this is Jeremy Gillard.”

  “Call me Jerry,” he said.

  “Heavenly represents Tatjana Durakovic.”

  “Where have I heard that name?”

  “Tatjana Durakovic claims she is the rightful owner of the Jade Lily.”

  “That’s right,” Gillard said. “She sent a letter to the old man a couple years ago. Whatever happened about that?”

  “Nothing happened,” Heavenly said. “Tatjana’s claim was ignored.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like the old man. So, what can I do for you?”

  “Heavenly has assured me that if you do not give up the Lily, she is going to steal it,” I said.

  “Why not?” Gillard said. “She’s already stolen my heart. Can I get you anything? A drink? Dinner? The number of my hotel suite?”

  Heavenly took the stool next to him. She drew her hands behind her head and fluffed her golden hair so Gillard could get a lasting impression of what lay beneath her thin blouse.

  “Baileys on the rocks,” she said.

  Gillard conveyed Heavenly’s order to Jenness. Jenness served the drink, but she wasn’t happy about it.

  Gillard smiled pleasantly. “More and more I find that I am spending time with what my father called the wrong element,” he said. “This is great.”

  “Mr. Gillard, McKenzie was not joking earlier,” Heavenly said. “I mean to see the Lily returned to its rightful owner.”

  “Well now, Heavenly. According to my attorneys, who are paid an ungodly amount of money to know these things, the Lily belongs to me. Want to see the bill of sale?”

  “You purchased stolen goods,” Heavenly said.

  “I didn’t. The old man did. The bastard. Say it with me—the bastard.”

  Neither Heavenly nor I joined in.

  “Ha,” Gillard said. “That’s okay. He was actually a pretty good guy, if I do say so myself.”

  “A poor businessman, though,” Heavenly said. “He bankrupted his company.”

  “Well, it was his to bankrupt.”

  “Now you’re broke.”

  Gillard thought that was funny. “Depends on how you look at it,” he said.

  “How many ways are there?”

  “When dear old Dad died, I thought I had inherited eighty million. A couple of weeks later, I was informed by a very serious man who spoke in a hushed tone that I had actually inherited only eight million dollars. Poor, poor, pitiful me. I had to give up the company plane. Listen, during the Depression—the old man told me this story. He said during the Great Depression, there was this businessman who was wo
rth ten million bucks. When the market crashed, he lost eight million. The next day he committed suicide. He just couldn’t believe it was possible to get by on only two million dollars. And this was back when two million was real money. Kids, I’m not that guy.”

  “Still,” Heavenly said. “If you lose the Lily…”

  “C’mon, honey, I already told McKenzie. The damn thing’s insured. What do I care what happens to it? Listen—I really don’t care what happens to it. I’ll even make a deal with you right now. This minute. I have a lending agreement with the folks at the museum. They get it for two years. Assuming McKenzie here recovers the Lily, how ’bout this—after the lending agreement expires, we’ll sell the Lily at auction. I’ll take out what the old man paid for it; Tatjana can have the rest—providing you spend a weekend in Vegas with me. Whaddaya say?”

  “Wait a minute.”

  “Going once, going twice, three times.” Gillard slapped the top of the bar with the flat of his hand. “Oh, sorry, time’s up. Too bad, so sad.”

  “Wait a minute,” Heavenly said again. “Are you serious?”

  “As serious as a nuclear explosion.” To prove it, Gillard made a thunder sound from deep in his throat and mimicked an expanding mushroom cloud with his hands.

  “Are you insane?” Heavenly said.

  Gillard turned to me. “What is your diagnosis, doctor?” he asked.

  “Certifiable,” I said. “No doubt about it.”

  “Whaddaya say, Heavenly?” Gillard said. “Do you agree to my terms?”

  Heavenly stared at him for a moment and then bent her head so she could look past him at me. “McKenzie?” she said.

  “What did that water buffalo you told me about go for?” I asked. “Four million pounds?”

  “Yes, but … Wait a minute.”

  Gillard smiled brightly at her while she did.

  I was interested in her response as well. Before she could answer, though, I heard Ella singing “Summertime, and the living is easy” from my cell phone.

  “This is McKenzie,” I said into the microphone.

  Less than a minute later, I hung up.

  Gillard and Heavenly were staring at me.