Getting Old Is a Disaster (29 page)

  Sophie and Bella nod again, their heads bobbing up and down like apples in a barrel.

  Ida can't stand it anymore. She shrieks at the two of them, "Stop nodding!"

  Both heads bow down.

  I try to salvage the situation. "Jack, honey, shall we continue this upstairs? Alone?"

  "Not really," he says. "Just go on with your meeting." He kisses me on my cheek. "Shall I start dinner, my love?"

  "Whatever," I say meekly. Ooh, oh, I'm in hot water now.

* * *

I smell something wonderful cooking as I open the door and stand in the doorway of the kitchen. Jack is busy chopping vegetables.

  "Lemon curried chicken?" I ask, in a most docile manner.

  "Might be the last meal I cook for you if certain things don't change around here," he says without turning around.

  This startles me. He says the words softly, but there's steel behind them. I feel my heart begin to pound. "May the condemned woman say a few words on her own behalf?"

  Jack moves over and stirs something in a pot. "Might I suggest some words—like 'We changed our minds and are not going through with this dangerous plan'?"

  "Jack, honey—"

  "Or 'I hereby promise to discuss my plans with my future husband before, not after, deciding to break the law.' You do intend to enter Abe's apartment without his permission?"

  I pause. I cannot tell a lie. "Yes. But Evvie, as condo president, has the right to enter an apartment if she thinks it's necessary."

  "If I recall, for it to be legal, the tenant must be given twenty-four hours' notice, and a reason."

  I shrug. I know he's right. No way we can do that.

  He turns and holds me by the shoulders. "It's one thing to go after an elderly guy robbing banks, which, by the way, was handled recklessly. You should have called for backup."

  "But it wasn't clear what Ida was doing. It seemed odd that she was taking us to what seemed like a psychic. And besides, Grandpa wasn't dangerous."

  "You couldn't have known that for sure, going to where he lived. He used a gun in those robberies."

  I interrupt with desperation, "We didn't know if it was a real one."

  "My point exactly. You didn't have enough information. You behaved hastily. And now, in this situation, you're rushing in again, without considering the terrible danger of going into this man's home. If you're right about Abe Waller, and clearly you believe you are, the man you're taking on is a mass murderer. A man trained to kill. And after leaving the camps, he murdered two other men, ostensibly simply to cover his tracks. Don't you think you're a little out of your league?"

  "But you said it yourself: We have no name. There's no evidence."

  "Let Morrie handle it. That's his job."

  "There's no way to arrest Abe. Asking Morrie for help is useless. We don't have enough for him to get a search warrant. This Nazi has outsmarted everyone for fifty years."

  Jack drops his hands and looks deep into my eyes and I see such worry in his. "And you believe
you
can outsmart him?"

  I don't know what to say. I don't know how to plead my case. He is absolutely right, of course. Am I guilty of arrogance? I feel like I'm walking on quicksand. "Is what we're having called a serious quarrel?"

  "You could say that."

  I blurt, "Big enough for you to break off our engagement if I don't do what you want?"

  He is almost surprised at my outburst. "Careful, dear, you're dealing in absolutes now. Do you want me to lay down an ultimatum?"

  I sit down on the kitchen chair and hold my breath. Will what he says next determine the course of the rest of my life? I'm amazed at how scared I am. The silence is so long, I can hear my teeth clench.

  He sits down next to me. "I have one last question." He reaches over and takes my hands in his. "Answer carefully."

  I gulp. "Shoot," I say with false courage.

  "If I were not in your life, if we'd never met and it was just you and your girls living the way you used to, would you be going through with those plans tomorrow?"

  I hesitate and think long and hard. I look him right in those gorgeous eyes. I know I'm getting too emotional, and I could possibly lose this man I love, but I have to make him understand how strongly I feel. "Damned straight I would. As the Jewish people of the world said after the war, 'Never again!' "

  Jack doles out our dinner and brings our plates into the dining room, where he has already set the table. I think about what I might lose. I shudder. I ask, and I'm terrified of his answer, "What are you going to do?"

  He sits down and says, "You do what you do and I'll do what I do."

  With that, he digs in.

  Dinner is very quiet; bedtime, even more so.

I
didn't sleep much last night, but when I finally

  did and woke up after eight, Jack was gone. I'm sure he didn't sleep too well, either. Nor, I imagine, did the girls. What have I gotten us all into? How can I put my sister and my dear friends at such risk? Should I call it off? I can't be angry at Jack. Everything he said was right. But what's my alternative? Tell Morrie to take it over and hope that someday, someway, he'll find out the truth? Doubtful. Besides, will anything we discover be admissible in court? But there is a higher court out there. And the groups, started by Simon Wiesenthal, to this day track down Nazis as war criminals. They won't give up until the last one is dead or caught. But I'll come across as an idiot when I turn in a religious Jewish man in his eighties who has done good deeds all his life, and has papers that prove he is Abe Waller. I'm sure the numbers he tattooed on his arm nearly half a century ago belong to the real Abe Waller. I'm betting he hasn't made a single mistake.

  Will Enya dare to come out of her apartment until Abe finally goes back to Phase Six when it's rebuilt? But that could be six months or more. And even then? The voice in my head says this man will not sit still. We haven't fooled him. He is planning something. We must find a clue. I've opened a Pandora's box and I've got to close it somehow. The truth is, I'm terrified. And I'm so tired, I can barely move my aching body.

* * *

We meet, as planned, in Enya's apartment, right next door to his. Everyone looks tired and drawn. Joe, imitating Jack, made us breakfast. It was only cereal and toast, and very kind of him, but no one eats a bite. We drink coffee, too much. Enya has gone to her bedroom to lie down. Needless to say, she is very stressed out.

  Ida says, "Jack was sore, wasn't he?"

  I nod. "He thinks what we are doing is foolhardy and very dangerous. I have to ask this before we go any further—do you want out? I'm sure it must be on everyone's mind."

  The girls, one by one, shake their heads slowly.

  Bella shivers. "But what if we fail you?"

  "You won't," I say. "You can't miss watching his parking spot."

  "What if the cell phone doesn't work?" Sophie asks.

  "I've thought of that," I say. "I've brought another one for you. They're both charged and ready. Just make sure you aren't noticed."

  "What if someone sees us anyway?" Sophie asks.

  Ida answers, "Then make up something, like you're waiting for us and we're late."

  Sophie comments, "Yeah, right. Only an idiot sits in the backseat of a hot car doing nothing for an hour."

  Ida says, "I rest my case."

  For a moment Sophie is angry, then Ida shrugs and grins. "I'm pulling your leg."

  We all smile and it relaxes us for maybe a second.

  Joe speaks to Sophie and Bella. "I'm volunteering to be your backup. I'm going to be watching from up here, from the living room window. Then, if anything goes wrong, I'll know, too."

  Bella sighs, relieved.

  "Besides," Evvie says, "hopefully we'll be through in less than an hour."

  "Last instructions," I say to Evvie and Ida. "I'm repeating myself, but I can't say it enough: No matter what happens, every single thing you touch must be left exactly as you found it. One tiny mistake and he'll know we've been in there."

  They both nod vigorously.

  "We better get started. He's already gone two

hours; it looks good to go." In my head I'm wondering where Jack is. But don't go there, I tell myself, I've got to keep my head very clear.

  Everyone hugs and kisses. Even Joe. Enya comes out of her room to watch us leave. She seems as frail as an eggshell.

  As planned, Evvie goes first, glances around, then quickly uses her master key and slides into Abe's apartment. Ida's next, she looks, too, then I follow.

* * *

"My heart's hammering like crazy," Evvie whispers as we look around Abe Waller's meticulous apartment. The Canadian family, the Dumas, who owns the condo, only uses it as a vacation home, so thankfully there is very little furniture, other than the basics, to deal with.

  I blab, also whispering, "Don't miss ice trays, hollow legs of chairs, in bottoms of socks, coffee cans, inside lamps—underneath drawers, for taped stuff. Probably never under mattresses. Too obvious."

  I feel a calm coming over me. Now that we're here and committed, I breathe easier. We can handle this. We'll be all right.

  We walk slowly from room to room as a first survey. Evvie manages a nervous smile. "You get that stuff from all those mysteries you read."

  "You bet," I say.

  Ida heads for the kitchen. Evvie, the bathroom, to be followed by the bedroom. I take the living room and then the Florida room. We work slowly and methodically.

  I hear Evvie say, "This is so spooky."

  For a long while that's the last thing said, as we intensely examine everything. Every drawer, every cupboard. All the places I thought might be hiding places. But nothing speaks of Abe. There were only the possessions left by the Dumas. Surely he must have personal things somewhere. Not even a toothbrush, reports Evvie from the bathroom. How is this possible?

  We take a very short break after half an hour to stand in the kitchen for a drink of water. Then, carefully, we wash and dry our glasses and put them exactly where they were.

  "Weird," says Ida, "it's as if no one lives here. There doesn't seem to be anything of his own. Not even a piece of mail to be found."

  I say, "Well, don't forget, he lost his things in the hurricane."

  "Yes, but they were all allowed to go back to Phase Six and get whatever stuff wasn't ruined," Evvie reminds me. "I'm sure he found some things."

  "Even if he didn't, it still seems strange. Not a book or magazine? Not a careless shirt, or whatever, tossed over the back of a chair?" Ida says.

  "And nothing in the bathroom medicine cabinet? Not even a bottle of aspirin? No dirty clothes in the hamper?" Evvie is incredulous.

  "Okay, back to work," I say.

  Evvie tries for a joke. "I can't wait to see what his underwear looks like."

We disperse to our areas of search.

  A few minutes later Evvie utters a small scream and comes running out. Her eyes glitter. "Get in here, now!"

  She runs back to the bedroom with the two of us racing after her. She indicates the open closet door. In the corner is a large suitcase.

  "At first I thought it was just parked there, but when I started to move it, it was heavy."

  Pull it out," Ida says excitedly. "Maybe that's where he hides his stuff."

  "Carefully," I say, "watch exactly how it was placed in the closet."

  Evvie tries to lift it. She can't. I help her pull it out. "Fingers crossed," I say as I reach for the snaps to open it.

  I try a few times, but it's locked. "Bad luck. I bet he has the key with him."

  We are let down.

  I feel for an outside pocket. "Wait, there's something . . ." I pull out a long, narrow, black leather folder and open it.

  "Oh, my God," Evvie says, over my shoulder. "Airline tickets. To where? When?"

  "Buenos Aires," I read. "Tonight. Late."

  "We knew it! We knew he was up to something. He's gonna make a run for it." Evvie jumps up and down in excitement. "No wonder we couldn't find anything personal. Everything he owns must be in here!"

  Ida leans over me, squinting without her glasses. "What's his name?" she demands of me.

  Disappointed, I tell her, "It says Abe Waller on tickets and passport."

  "Damn," says Evvie. "And we dare not break the lock open."

  I dig deeper into the fold. Something is lodged down there. I pull it out. It's a small patch of cloth wrapped around a signet ring. Evvie grabs the patch; Ida, the ring.

  "There's a large cross on here," Evvie says.

  "And one on the ring."

  "I've seen this before," Evvie says, "in movies."

  "It's called the Iron Cross," I say in wonder. "I read about it a long time ago. I think it's the highest award German soldiers ever get."

  We look at one another, happily astonished, big smiles on our faces.

  I look on the back of the Iron Cross patch. "We've got him!" I say. "There's a number. I bet somewhere there's a match with his real name. We've got to copy down the number."

  Evvie grins happily, grabbing the patch from me so she can examine it more thoroughly.

  My cell phone rings. Evvie actually jumps. The three of us stare at the instrument with foreboding. He can't be back! He mustn't! I answer. Sophie and Bella are screaming into our ears. "He just drove in! He's back! Get out! Get out!"

  At the same time we can hear Joe shouting Evvie's name from Enya's rear sunporch.

I feel like I'm moving in slow motion as I shove the black folder back into the side pocket.