The Sayers Swindle (A Book Collector Mystery) (27 page)

“Was that why you were creeping around Lincoln Way?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on her. I tailed her to where she was staying. And then I followed her to Lincoln Way. I knew she was up to something. I managed to get a photo of her from a distance. No one in Harrison Falls would listen. I passed the photo on to a friend at Quantico to see if he could run it through their database. My friend said she’s a suspected gun for hire. I gave him everything I knew. Next thing, I’m politely asked to take a hike. I’m infringing on an active organized crime investigation.”

I said, “But you didn’t take a hike.”

“How could I when every time I turned around, you showed up. I’m not good at minding my own business and neither are you. I needed to save you from whatever you were mixed up in.”

I could hardly say I didn’t need saving, given the circumstances. My feminist pride had to take a hit. I said, “The dead undercover cop must have been FBI.”

“What?”

“The guy who was killed was undercover. The real Candy Mortakis let that slip.”

His face turned ashen and his jaw tensed. A fallen officer hit all cops hard. Even I knew that.

Candy sneered. “You could smell bacon a mile away. Just like the first guy.”

I said, “Bacon? Oh, of course, you killed the first guy as well and he was undercover too. You’re more of a knife for hire than a gun. And you threw in the bit about the second victim having no fingerprints just for the hell of it. All fun for you, as was the dressing up and fooling me.”

“Get yourself over here, Jordan, away from her. I’m calling for backup. We’ve got her now.”

He grinned a bit at that.

Before I could move, I spotted a shadow in the doorway from the stairs.

“Look out!” I shouted. “Behind you!”

I reached for something to lob at Candy as Smiley whirled. Candy dove for her weapon. Mason Adams raised his gun and pointed at Smiley’s head. He nudged Smiley’s legs with one of his Blundstones. He said, “Don’t try anything.”

I aimed the antique china teapot at Candy’s head and hurled it hard. Missed. Candy dodged it, bumping into the wall as she did. The teapot crashed to the floor. Candy was back in charge. Now it was two guns to one. And she was royally ticked off.

“Drop your gun or I’ll shoot your little girlfriend,” Candy said.

Without a word, Tyler lowered his weapon to the floor.

Mason said, “Good news, babe.”

My head swam. Babe?

Mason and Candy. I thought I’d had her figured out, but this came out of nowhere. I was missing a lot if I hadn’t figured this out. What else didn’t I know?

“It better be good news because now we have another cop to get rid of on top of this nosy girl here,” Candy said.

“He’s a cop? I thought he was just her stupid boyfriend.” He gave me a dismissive look.

“And?” she said.

“And what, babe?”

“Tell me the good news, because right now it’s all bad news.”

“Oh yeah. Randolph thinks he remembers giving it to the woman. But he’s losing it. Sometimes he remembers things, other times he doesn’t. Sometimes he hardly knows who he is.”

“Well, she’s here and she claims she doesn’t know anything about it. You sure he’s not just putting one over on you?”

“Huh? Oh, her? No, not her, the other one.”

“What other one?”

“The older one, with the red hair. The woman that sold him the books in the first place. I forget her name. Karen something. She owns the store downstairs: the Cozy Corpse.”

“Oh, right. Jordan, you told me about her, didn’t you? She has it?”

“He said he gave three books to her. She put them in some kind of a flowered bag.”

“What books are they?”

Mason blinked. “He called them the Sayers books. He didn’t tell me their names.”

“Titles, not names. Books have titles,” she snapped. “Are you sure he’s telling the truth?”

“Yeah. I had to play rough with him. He knows that once we have it, we don’t need him, so he held out.”

“Keep in mind that without the money, there’s no new life for us. Just you going back to being Jason Pecelli with the mob gunning for you.”

“I know that, babe.”

“I’m all that stands between you and an unmarked grave somewhere. You realize that?”

Mason licked his lips. “I do, babe. And you’ve been amazing. The cop routine was priceless. No one would ever recognize you in a getup like that.”

She giggled. “Right under their noses. I actually enjoyed it. Those Burton cops were too stupid to breathe. But fun’s got to end now. We need to find the books and then it’s just a matter of putting Randall and Dawna out of their misery so we can make a new life for us. That reminds me, did you track them down? I can’t believe you were stupid enough to let that old man get away.”

Changing their names to Randall and Delilah and hiding out in Burton wasn’t nearly enough to save the former Randall and Dawna from the relentless Candy. Especially with that snake Mason in their midst. I actually felt sorry for them.

“You don’t have to kill Dawna, babe. She’s not responsible for any of this. She’s just—”

I’d never seen a smile as cold as the one on Candy’s face. “She’s just the woman you left me for. Do you think I’m going to forget that she played me for a sucker?”

Mason might have been planning a life with Candy, but I figured he was fully aware that she was a psychopath. “I was just crazy, babe. Scared about the mob. Out of my depth. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss you. Dawna wasn’t responsible. She’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer. She was stuck there with that old husband. You can let her live. She can’t hurt us.”

Candy smiled. I figured poor Delilah had just been consigned to a more painful death.

She said, “Enough about them. Does this woman, Karen, know what she has?”

“He said he didn’t tell her anything. She thinks it’s just ordinary books.”

“Well, either way, we need to get it. And get rid of her.”

Mason didn’t show any desperate need to save Karen’s life. I figured he still had some feelings for Delilah. He’d do whatever he could to save her.

“I tracked Karen down. I know where she is. There’s an antique shop in Harrison Falls. She’s there with some big bald guy. She’s still carrying that flowered bag. We’d better get there fast.”

I thought my throat would close.

“Look around here first and take any books you see that are by this Dorothy L. Sayers. Then we have some business to tidy up here,” Candy said. “Two busybodies.”

I said, “If you kill a police officer, they will hunt you down. They already know who you are and what you look like.”

She snorted. “Nice try. It won’t be the first time.”

I knew she was telling the truth about that. She’d killed the undercover cop who was watching the Adams house. Had he been waiting for Candy and not the Adams family as I had assumed?

Mason turned to me. “You wouldn’t ever recognize her. You see how much she can change her appearance.”

“The books,” she said. “Check carefully and fast. We need to finish up here.”

As Mason checked each stack of books and bookcase, Candy headed for the kitchen. She glanced around and scratched her wig.

Still keeping his eyes and guns on us, Mason turned to the bedroom and began rummaging around.

Candy hummed as she lifted a pot from a hanger, placed it on the stove, poured some olive oil into in and turned on the burner. She draped a tea towel near it. What was that about? As she walked back in and gave me an evil, self-satisfied grin, I had a horrible feeling that I knew.

Mason emerged from the bedroom. “Nothing here, babe.”

“All right. We’re on our way. This job will only take a few minutes,” Candy said. “Poor old absentminded red-haired lady went out and left the stove on. Happens all the time. No sign of arson. Just good-bye house.”

That’s what that grin was about. She had done this before, just as Smiley had suggested. And she’d been successful.

I said, “No one’s going to believe that story.”

“You’d be surprised what people will believe. Anyway, we’ll be long gone and no one outside this room has any reason to connect us.” She turned to Mason. “Let’s get these two where they can’t make any more trouble.”

“Should we tie them up?” Mason gave a nervous glance at us. His normally smooth voice sounded a bit raspy.

“Nope. Nothing that will tell the investigators that their deaths weren’t accidental. Too bad they got locked in by the brain-damaged old lady. She sends her little friends to the basement to get a jar of preserves and forgets they’re down there, locks them in and leaves the house.

I said, “No one is going to believe that.”

Candy sneered. “You can’t imagine how easy it is to lead the police astray when old ladies are involved. It’s almost comical. Of course, for you, it’s tragic, really.” She turned to Mason. “Hand me his gun, then get their cell phones. And take her bag too.” It was obvious who was top dog in this relationship. I wondered if Mason—like me—had been deceived by Candy and if she was just using him as she used everyone.

With my phone in Mason’s possession and a gun in my back, I followed Candy’s orders and walked out of the apartment and down the stairs to the basement. Tyler was right behind me. I imagined he was feeling the barrel of Mason’s gun in his back. There was no chance of escape. Mason shoved me forward. I barely managed to grab the railing. Tyler was pushed in behind me. As he stumbled on the stairs, the basement door closed behind us.

Mason said, “Do we really have to . . .”

Candy shouted out merrily, “Yes, we do. Remember rule one: don’t leave witnesses. And you’d better decide whether you are with me or against me. As for you two, I’m locking you in now. Hope you don’t mind the heat.”

I heard the dead bolt engage and something else. Was that the key being tossed across the entrance floor? No chance of getting out now.

“And the dark,” Candy called from the other side of the door. Her laugh faded as she left the building.

I gasped. “She turned off the light. The switch is in the entrance. I don’t remember seeing another switch in the basement.”

“That’s bad.”

“Right. And I thought Candy was just needy, but all along she was a murderous psychopath.” I put my ear to the door. Silence. I assumed that Candy and Mason were gone.

“Let me see if I can get it open,” Smiley said.

He heaved himself against the heavy wooden door. He tried again and again. “It won’t budge,” he said.

“No hope,” I said, fighting my instincts and trying to keep calm. “It will be solid. And Karen hides her valuable books down here. She doesn’t want anyone to find her treasures. Who’d suspect her of hiding them in a damp, buggy basement?”

He said, “We’d better get going if we can’t get out this way. Maybe there’s a light source somewhere down here.”

We felt our way down the stairs. My heart was break-dancing now. There was no easy way out of the basement. “Be careful. This place is full of booby traps.” It wasn’t easy to stay calm. The pan of oil was probably reaching the boiling point on the top of the stove. How long before that pan caught fire?

“What’s down here?” he said. “Another exit?”

“I don’t think so. I never saw one. But there are windows on the side. Maybe we can get out through one of them,” I whispered. Just in case.

I could feel the warmth of Smiley’s arm as we leaned together and slowly descended. At the bottom of the stairs, he put his arms around me. “I’m sorry. I should have been able to stop them. I should have been able to protect you from this.”

Jeez, he smelled good. You’d think my life would be flashing before my eyes, but no, I was too busy huffing the cop.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s my fault. I’m the one who first made the contact with that crazy killer. I did stupid things to recover a collection for Vera.”

“I think we both did dumb things.”

“Great. Tied for worst place.”

He held me tighter. I didn’t need that. I needed to think about the likelihood that I didn’t have long to live. I needed to work on Houdini maneuvers to get out of there. I needed to kick at the doors and scramble to break windows. I did not need to be so aware that I was so close to Smiley and that he smelled like a fresh mountain stream. More important than the fact that we were completely unsuitable for each other, we had only a few minutes to live.

I employed some moves that I’d learned at an interpretative dance class—for credit, of course—and disentangled myself. “We have to get out of here.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

“Me too. Not as sorry as we’ll both be if we burn to a crisp. Feel around. We need a hammer.”

“Okay, but I’m not sorry. I wanted to put my arms around you and if not now, when? This could be our last chance.”

“Look, we need to get out of here before we asphyxiate or burn. Whichever comes first.”

“I know that. I am a police officer and I will get us out of here.”

“You could see me roll my eyes if it wasn’t so dark here.”