“Yes, they do,” Neely responded. “I don’t see a reason to wait until dinner time, so let’s talk to him now.”
“Good idea,” I said.
“He already knows who you are and you’re our designated caller, give him a try,” Marty urged.
“All right, but I’d rather be close enough to grab him by the shirt collar if he tries to run away. Here goes nothing!” I said. The phone rang and rang and rang. I kept expecting the call to go to voicemail like Judith’s phone had done earlier. After it rang about a dozen times, I was ready to give up when a weak, raspy voice spoke to me.
“Hello, who is this? I could use a little help.”
“This is Miriam Webster. Am I speaking to Nick Martinique?”
“Yes, it’s Nick. Come give me a hand, please.”
“Are you at work or at home?”
“Home.”
“Are you hurt? Do you need me to call for an ambulance?”
“Yes, I’m hurt. No, I don’t need an ambulance. I could have called 911 if I thought I was in that much trouble.”
“Okay, Nick, hang on. My friends and I are on our way. Stay put.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Hey, Nick, Neely’s here, and she wants to speak to you. Tell her what’s wrong.” I handed the phone to Neely and told her to keep him talking.
“Marty, we need Midge, now. Call her and tell her to say goodbye to the police. Then she needs to go to her car. Unless the police insist that they stay, Joe and Carl should go with her.” Marty was on it before I finished the last sentence.
“Midge, we’ve got a new situation on our hands. Nick Martinique is in trouble. Let me ask.” Marty looked up at us.
“Midge wants to know what kind of trouble. Is Mark holding him hostage—should she bring the police?”
“Nick, our nurse friend wants to know if we should bring the police. Just say yes if Mark Viceroy is there, and you can’t say more than that.” Neely was quiet for a few seconds.
“No, but he could use a nurse. Mark paid him a visit and got in a few punches before Nick could get to his gun.” Neely raised both eyebrows as she said that. Marty relayed the information to Midge and explained what we wanted her to do.
“Did Nick shoot him?” I whispered to Neely, hoping not to disrupt the conversation between Marty and Midge or miss it if Midge had another question for us.
“Nick, did you shoot Mark?” Neely shook her head no. “The gun wasn’t loaded.”
While Marty and Neely were still on the phone, we started walking back toward the hotel, using the sidewalk rather than slogging through the sand again. That’s why I wanted Midge and the guys to meet us in the parking lot.
“Follow us,” I said when we met up with them. Midge was standing beside her car in the same lot where we’d left Neely’s car. Joe and Carl pulled up beside her as soon as we arrived. Neely checked on Nick one more time, told him we were on our way.
“I can’t believe we didn’t call Nick!” I groaned as Neely drove to Nick’s house. “He’s so close, that would have been the first place Mark went. It never occurred to me that he knew Nick was in the area or where he lived.”
“Hey, we warned him at dinner last night. Maybe that’s why he had a gun handy even if it didn’t have any bullets in it,” Neely responded.
“You could be right. How did Mark find out about him?”
“The same way we did. Maybe he went to The Maiden Inn first, and someone who felt sorry for the old man told him how to find Nick. Let’s put that on the list of questions to ask Nick if you think it’s important.”
“Once we’re sure he’s okay,” I said. “Then I guess what’s more important to me is to find out if Mark still had Elizabeth with him and, if so, what condition she was in. Then, let’s unleash Joe’s bad cop and give Nick the third degree about the issues he neglected to share with us.”
“You can do bad cop,” Neely argued. “Joe and Carl need to stake out that clinic. The younger Mark Viceroy would have kicked that gun out of Nick’s hands, and beat him to within an inch of his life once he discovered it wasn’t loaded. He wasn’t taking any chances on getting shot, which tells me he knows he’s in bad shape.”
“Not in such bad shape that he didn’t punch the daylights out of Nick. I agree that Joe and Carl need to get to that clinic and sit there. No fooling around either. The moment he shows up, they need to call the police.”
Neely signaled and then pulled up in front of Nick’s house. As soon as the others parked behind us, we all ran for Nick’s front door. I knocked and tried the door handle at the same time. The doorknob came off in my hand. Using a pocketknife, Joe had the door open in two seconds.
“Nick! We’re here. Where are you?” Domino woofed and darted down the hallway. She was pawing at a door and had it open before we got there.
“In here,” Nick said in a strained voice. When we bolted into his bedroom, I didn’t see him. I stopped abruptly, and we had a pileup of people. Domino kept moving.
“We need to wire you up with some brake lights,” Joe said. I didn’t care. I was more concerned about what was going on with Nick.
“Nick, are you in here?” Domino’s head popped up from the other side of the bed. She wiggled and yipped, and then she sniffed the air and darted into Nick’s closet. She whined and dug like crazy at boxes and suitcases in there.
“Yes,” Nick replied. I walked around the bed and came to another full stop.
“Ha! I was ready for you this time…what the heck?” Joe asked.
16 A Little Key
“A very little key will open a very heavy door.” ~ Hunted Down
∞
“Neely said Mark beat you up. She didn’t say he bent you into a pretzel.”
“I told Miriam I needed help. This isn’t funny. Can you please get me out of here?”
If Nick’s face hadn’t been as red as a beet, I might have found a little humor in his predicament. The skinny guy must have tried to squeeze under his bed, which apparently loosened the bed slats. When the mattress and box spring dropped, they pinned him to the floor. The gun and his phone lay on the floor nearby. I tried to imagine the sequence of events which resulted in this outcome without success. I assume, in his efforts to free himself, he’d worked his legs out sideways, so his head and feet were showing.
“I salute you for your flexibility, Mr. Martinique. Now, let’s get you out from under there,” Carl said. “Joe, where can we get the best leverage? Tell us what to do.” Joe placed each of us at strategic points and told us where to grip to get the best lift. Midge and Marty were to drag Nick out.
“On my order!” Joe hollered. I felt like our situation had suddenly morphed into a Monty Python skit as our little band of active adults once again gave new meaning to the concept. “Lift!”
“All clear!” Midge said as my arms reached the point that they felt like spaghetti. I tried to let my corner of the mattress and box set down easy, but I didn’t quite succeed.
“Don’t move, Nick!” Midge ordered.
“Sheesh! I’m glad it wasn’t a king size bed,” Neely said, stretching her back.
“Is he okay?” I asked.
“Nothing broken, so far,” Midge replied. “Go to the kitchen and bring ice or a bag of peas from the freezer, please.” When I ran back through the house, I noticed that someone had begun to search Nick’s place. It hadn’t been demolished, like the hotel room where Leonard’s nurse had been staying. Mark must have decided to force Nick to give up the location of whatever he was intent on finding. I dumped a tray of ice into a dishtowel and dashed back to Nick’s bedroom. Joe and Carl passed me in the hallway.
“Where are you going?”
“A rendezvous with destiny!” Carl said.
“Our work here is done. We’ve got a scumbag to catch!” Joe added. “Plus, we have to get food before we stake out the clinic.”
“No good cop, no bad cop. Only real cops, promise?” I asked.
“Only real cops, promise. We don’t want to be real angels,” Joe assured me.
Just as I got to the door of Nick’s bedroom, he came limping out with Neely and Marty supporting him. Midge and Domino were behind him.
“Nick needs to sit and elevate his leg. I’m going to get my kit from the car to clean him up properly. Take that ice from Miriam and keep it on your eye. Marty, get him a glass of water and a couple of aspirin. When I return, I want you to tell us what went on here.” With that, Midge swept out of the house with her car keys in hand. We’d barely finished carrying out her directives when she came back into the house.
“We’re going to need more ice,” she announced. A young woman was with her.
“What’s she doing in here? Is Mark still out there?” Nick asked as he tried to get up out of his seat. I restrained him. “Get my gun!”
“Meet Elizabeth Stockton. She says Mark’s gone, but he shoved her out of the car as he left—after he started driving away.” Her chin was scratched, and she was bleeding from bad scrapes on both knees. She held up her hands to show us they were skinned too. Her cheek was red and swollen.
“Cry me a river,” Nick said. “She’s his partner and was helping him search my house until he came up with the idea that it would be quicker to get me to find what he wanted. She stood there, watching Mark hit me repeatedly before I punched him and ran to get my gun. Call the police!”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t his partner. Not exactly.” Then she swayed as if she might faint. She was younger than I expected her to be.
Marty sat her down on the couch, set up an ottoman that had been turned upside down, and propped up her feet on it. Her knees looked even worse on display like that. Neely dashed into the kitchen and came back with more ice as Midge had asked.
“Face,” Midge grunted as she handed the ice to Elizabeth. “Start talking.”
“I’m an idiot. He’s going to kill me, isn’t he?” Neely handed her a paper towel as the tears started to fall.
A young idiot, I suddenly thought, feeling sorry for her as she sobbed.
“You picked the wrong guy to “not exactly” have as a partner!” Neely chided as I dabbed at Elizabeth’s knees with a damp paper towel I’d taken from Neely.
“I’m in over my head in debts—way in. Credit cards, dental bills, my car needs to go in for repairs, and I’m behind in my rent. I’m going to get evicted.”
“Your point is?” Neely asked, still not backing out of her tough-gal mode.
“Leonard told me stuff about something awful that happened years ago—before I was even born. I took notes for him and put them into letters for people. He told me to call them and pass the information along to them. I was really scared about some of it, but he gave me money that he kept in a shopping bag beside his bed.”
“What was in the letters?” I asked.
“And to whom were they addressed?” Midge added, now hovering above her with both hands on her hips. Nick had grown quiet as a mouse as Midge cleaned up his scratches and scrapes, applying antiseptics and bandages, and who knows what else from her little black bag.
“One was to his ex-wife, one to Nick, and another to this woman, Judith Rogow. That letter was short, and, mostly, about the fact that her husband always loved her and didn’t leave her. He was killed and then buried at a place I’d never heard of before. At first, I thought Leonard said it was Dunkin’s Dune—you know like the donut shop.” Neely rolled her eyes.
“Judith Rogow told us you spoke to her, but she never said anything about getting a letter from you.” The tears started again, and she squirmed.
“That’s because I never gave it to her,” Elizabeth replied, wincing a little as I tried to get the grit out of the scrapes on her legs.
“Why not?” I asked.
“I thought there was stuff in the letter that people might pay for, and I could use the money to get back on my feet.”
“Were you going to sell the information, or use it as blackmail?” She looked at Neely and shook her head.
“Not blackmail—that’s against the law. The first thing that happened is that I figured this Wendy Ballard person would give me money if I gave the letter to her instead of giving it to Judith Rogow. Or I thought she might pay me to keep her name out of it. That’s before I knew she was dead.”
“What? You have information about my sister?” Nick asked.
“She’s your sister? Oh, no…”
“Quit moaning and groaning and spit it out. What would Wendy Ballard have paid for if she hadn’t died?” Midge demanded to know.
“Leonard wanted Allen Rogow’s ex-wife to know that Wendy Ballard killed him, and then Mark Viceroy helped her bury him in that Dunkin’ Dunes place.”
“For goodness’ sake, it’s Dickens’, not Dunkin’s,” Neely snapped.
“I know, I know. Leonard made sure I got it right. I’m just stressed out of my mind right now.” I could believe that by the wild look in her eyes.
“How did Leonard Cohen know what happened? Was he there, too?” I asked.
“No. He said Wendy came to him for money and told him what had happened. She said it was a horrible accident—that Allen and Mark were fighting, and she tried to stop them. When she got in the way, Allen told her to beat it and that he didn’t need her help and never would. She got so angry, she shoved him, and he went off a ledge or something, and when he stopped falling, he was dead. Mark helped her, but he threatened her after that and tried to force her to marry him. The way Leonard talked about it was like a weird soap opera. He called it a terrible midsummer night’s dream. It was more like a nightmare if you ask me. She loved this Allen guy, he loved his ex-wife, and Mark loved Wendy. Like I said, weird.” As she spoke, Nick had begun to cry again.
“I’m sorry your sister killed someone. I told you she didn’t mean to do it. That Mark guy threatened her all the time by saying if she left him, he’d turn her over to the police, and show them where the body was buried. Leonard gave her money and she tried to get away, but I guess that didn’t work out because he said she called him from jail a few days later. He thought she was better off in jail, but then she got out again. You should know better than I do what happened after that, Nick.”
“Yes,” Nick replied. “We rented a car with the money Leonard gave us, and we were going to go to Vegas, but then we stopped for a drink, and that turned into a few. Then Wendy bought pills. We were bigger idiots than you, Elizabeth. We got in the car and only drove a few blocks before she rear-ended someone stopped at a red light. She was lucky not to have killed the driver as hard as she hit the car. By then, that might not have mattered much to her anymore since you say she’d already killed Allen.”
“Mark Viceroy also was mixed up in what happened to Allen Rogow, I thought he’d pay me to give him the letters. I was also supposed to pass along something Wendy left with Leonard for safekeeping, but I thought I could sell that to Mark Viceroy, too. He didn’t much care about anything that was in those letters, but he was gung-ho to make a deal when I told him about a package Wendy had left with Leonard that I was supposed to give to a guy named Nick.”
“So, where is it?” Nick asked.
“I already told you, I’m an idiot, Nick. I lost it. Mark didn’t believe me. He thought I was holding out on him, and he totaled my hotel room looking for it. Then, he figured I’d double-crossed him and given it to you. That’s why he came here once he found out where you lived.”
“What was Mark looking for?” I asked although I figured we already had at least part of the answer to that question.
“A little key.” Neely and Marty gasped.
“A little key to what?”
“Money. A whole lot of money. He needs it bad, too, because he’s going to buy a kidney. I felt bad for him until he hurt me. You did a good job fighting him off, Nick. He’s on medication to keep him going while he waits for a kidney. Until that happens, he can’t miss his dialysis treatments or get badly hurt.”
“Did he say where the money was?” I asked.
“No, but he drew this picture of lightning inside a funny shape and asked if I’d seen it, or if Leonard had told me where to find something with that mark on it. I told him, no. That made him mad, he tore up the picture, and shoved me out of the way. I fell and cut my arm on a piece of glass. That’s when he got the idea of paying Nick a visit. He hit me hard, and after that I went with him without a fight, even though I was so scared I felt sick.”
“Nick, do you know what a key like that might fit?”
“No, but I have a ton of stuff Wendy left behind in her room at the apartment where we were staying. I figured Mark killed her and was coming for me next, so I shoved all our stuff into storage at a cousin’s house and left it there until I came back years later. I’ve never had the heart to go through it. Since that maniac wants it so much, I should put it in the dumpster at The Maiden Inn.”
“Are you talking about the stuff in your closet?” Nick nodded. I spoke excitedly to everyone.
“You know what? I think the scent Domino detected on the scarf was Wendy’s, not Elizabeth’s. That must be the reason Domino was so interested in what was in Nick’s closet when we got here.” Domino had been lying quietly in a corner until I spoke her name. I pulled out the key we’d found earlier from the envelope I’d stuffed into my purse.
“That’s it—that’s the package I lost. How did you get it?” Elizabeth asked.
“Explain it to her, will you, Midge? Nick, I think it’s time to go through that stuff in case the key fits something in there,” I said.
“Go for it!” He said as he nodded wearily.
Neely, Domino, and I hurried to Nick’s bedroom, while Midge explained how they’d picked up the package at the nurse’s station. Marty went to find a snack for Nick, who looked like he’d lost ten pounds since we’d seen him the night before. Domino beat us to the room and by the time we caught up with her, she’d started pawing at the items in the closet.
“It’s okay, Domino, we’ve got the message. Sit!” She did as I asked, and Neely and I began hauling items out of the closet. There were several suitcases with locks on them, but the key didn’t fit. We opened each suitcase, and in an overnight bag, we found a letter addressed to Nick. The boxes were full of odds and ends, but nothing with a lock that matched the key.
Grave Expectations on Dickens' Dune Page 14
