The Wolfe Widow (A Book Collector Mystery) (23 page)

I was changing into my pajamas when I heard a thundering at the front door, which is actually the front entrance to the shop, of course. Did I hear a shout of “Police”?

Archie Goodwin would never have opened up for Inspector Cramer or Stebbins at that time of night, no matter how much they bullied. At the best of times, he gave them plenty of attitude. But for some reason Kev and the signora rushed to open the door and the rest, as they say, was history.

Of course, it was the police and it seemed that they had a warrant.

“What for?” I said, looking my most surprised as I arrived late to the party. “Kev, I think you should both go to bed now. We’re all exhausted. No, don’t argue. We are not letting them in any farther. Kev, the signora will be fine at Lucky’s. Help her to settle in. The cats will be happy.”

I felt something like joy when they actually disappeared back into the house, yawning and dragging their feet.

Detective Jack Jones was standing inside the front door of the shop, which is technically our place.

“It’s a search warrant. Therefore it’s to search.”

“Go right ahead and search whatever you want,” I said. “But first shouldn’t you be telling me why?”

“You’re kidding, right?” he said. “And don’t get too comfortable because we’re going to take you downtown to talk about a couple of break-ins tonight.”

“Break-ins?” I thought I did a great version of outraged virtue. But my heart was thumping. Being dragged into the police station and grilled did not bode well for the future of my relationship with Smiley—if I had one, that is, considering his absence and silence.

“Don’t act all innocent. I know for a fact that you broke into the office of Dwight Jenkins and the home of Muriel Delgado tonight.”

“You certainly do not know that.” I held my chin high.

“Where were you tonight?”

“Here, except when I walked the dogs. I walked them separately, if you must know. I did leave to pick up my uncle Kevin and Signora Panetone at the home of Miss Vera Van Alst tonight. That’s Vera Van Alst’s home and not Muriel Delgado’s. Important distinction. They were fired after this alleged burglary.”

“Uh-huh. And can anyone verify your whereabouts before that?”

He was being tricky. Of course, an innocent person wouldn’t know what time the break-ins took place. Archie had also taught me that police give away how they want to trip you up. He liked to call it telegraphing. I said, “It depends on the time that you are talking about.”

I looked past Jones’s shoulder to see my own personal patrol officer loom into view. “What’s going on here?” he said with a glower at Jones.

“We’re arresting Jordan Bingham on suspicion of burglary.” To me he said, “You’re coming to the station.”

“I’m in my pajamas,” I bleated. “I have bare feet.”

“Should have thought of that when you broke into Van Alst House an hour ago.”

“I didn’t.” I managed to inject a half sob into my voice. Very effective, I thought.

“You ask me, she didn’t,” said the patrol officer. I was wishing I knew his name.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that someone tried to break in here and she called 911. That was before we got the call about the Van Alst place. I came by here after the 911 and checked things out. I kept an eye on her because she’s alone and there’s some crazy guy in the area.”

I sniffed. “I told you I was here.”

Jones wasn’t done. “There’s still the robbery at the lawyer’s house. And I think we’ve got you on that.”

“I don’t see how.”

I actually felt bad by now, lying in front of my alibi, who seemed like a really decent person.

“We’ll find those papers.” Jones attempted to shoulder past me.

“Can I see that warrant?” I said. It had belatedly occurred to me that they’d never have been able to get a warrant that quickly for something as mundane as a couple of break-ins in the middle of the night. Thank you, Archie, for that inspiration.

“Why?” he said.

“Because it’s the law.”

My own personal patrol officer was frowning. Maybe he wasn’t impressed watching Jones play fast and loose with a citizen’s rights. Of course, he was seriously outranked by the detective, but still he was a witness to bad behavior.

Jones curled his lip, not a good look for him. “It won’t take long.” He turned to the officer. “And you, keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t leave or make an attempt to hide the stolen papers.”

“What papers are you talking about?” I said as he stormed out.

Jones squealed his tires taking off.

The patrol officer said, almost apologetically, “You really shouldn’t try to leave.”

I said, “I’m not planning to leave. I’d just like to get some sleep. And I don’t even know your name, but thank you again.”

“Gus Melski. Glad to help. I’ve got three girls of my own and I want to believe that people are out there keeping an eye on them.”

I felt a pang of guilt. That’s the thing about lying to decent people, but, honestly (as most of us say when we’re producing whoppers), I couldn’t think of another way to deal with this situation.

“Go to bed. I’ll be in the car, outside your door so I can assure Jones you didn’t hide anything.

*   *   *

THAT ONE HOUR
of sleep really made a difference. Unfortunately, that was all I got. Then all of a sudden, the dogs appeared to be barking, and Walter was circling in a panic and nosing me. It took a while to come to the surface. The cats were yowling next door, so maybe that contributed to the general confusion.

Voices were raised in what sounded like hysteria. I pulled on my slippers and staggered downstairs.

My phone rang at the same time, but I’d left it upstairs.

Uncle Kev was leaping like a deranged leprechaun in the kitchen. The signora was wailing. Officer Melski was scratching his head.

“Something wrong, Officer?” I said.

“You tell me. I heard dogs barking and someone shrieking in a foreign language. Thought I better check to see if you were all right. This gentleman let me in.”

At that, Kev managed to look extraordinarily guilty, even though all he’d done was answer the door.

“Thank you, Uncle Kev,” I said.

Melski glanced at Kev and then at the signora. “So, let me get this straight. These people say they live here. That right?”

For a brief moment, I almost succumbed to the temptation to say I’d never seen them before. But of course, I couldn’t do that as I’d already acknowledged Kev. Before I could add a thing, Kev sputtered, “Yes, we live here. We were fired by Vera Van Alst because of a woman who is trying to kill her. The police are no help at all!”

“Il demonio!”

“One at a time and in English,” I said, collapsing into a chair. “Yes, I’m afraid they do live here now, temporarily. We all used to work for Vera Van Alst. I’m hoping this is just a bad dream, but in case it isn’t, would you mind closing the door, Officer Melski? It’s getting cold in here.”

Everyone spoke (and “spoke” doesn’t quite capture it) at once. I raised my hand to silence them.

Uncle Kev was trying to get Officer Melski to understand how awful it all had been. “. . . and we were tossed out in the snow to wait for our ride because someone broke into the house. We were already inside. Why would we break in? What do you think of that?”

“
O dio!
Vera!”

I said, “Zip it, Kev. And Signora, please calm down.”

Officer Melski turned to me. “Are you sure they belong here?”

“Yes, they do, Officer. We’ve all been affected by whatever criminal takeover is happening at Van Alst House.”

“Sure,” he said. “I knew that.”

“Oh. Did you? Well, this so-called burglary at Van Alst House may have been staged to give a certain person unfettered access to the assets of Miss Van Alst, without the protection of her trusted staff.”

Gus Melski stared at Kev and then at the signora. “Trusted staff.”

“We all care about her.” I felt my lips twitching. “And we’re not just any employees, we’re like family. That says a lot, considering Vera—”

“—is not the easiest person to get along with,” Kev said, his baby blues glittering in a slightly deranged fashion.

“Povera Vera!”

“Right,” I said. “Poor Vera. It’s a bad situation.”

“It’s worse than bad,” said Kev. “In fact, it’s even worse than the worst.”

No point in my arguing there’s no such thing as worse than the worst.

I felt exhaustion settling on my shoulders. “Maybe we can talk about it in the morning. Let’s get a bit more sleep.”

Kev said, “What if that’s too late?”

Speaking of too late, I ran upstairs to check my phone. During the hubbub, I had missed a return call from Eddie. At least this time he’d left a message.

But I could hardly believe my ears.

“Eddie’s on his way,” I said, coming back downstairs.

“From Florida?” Uncle Kev said. “I thought he was on a cruise.”

“Apparently the cruise is over. The minute he got our message, he seems to have raced to the airport. His flight got into Syracuse just after midnight. He’s driving from there.”

“Whoa. Must have cost him a bomb.”

“He says he’s going straight to Vera’s.”

“Oh boy. You don’t want that, Jordie, but maybe he could make sure that nothing happens to her.”

Kev and I stared at each other. The signora crossed herself. Eddie had always floated like a ghost through the kitchen and back rooms of Van Alst House, buoyed by his devotion to Vera. I hadn’t wanted Eddie for his muscle. I was hoping he’d explain Muriel’s hold over Vera. If there were secrets, maybe Eddie would know them.

My message to him was high-pitched. “Eddie. Wait for us. We’ll come with you or get the police. For Vera’s sake, remember it’s dangerous.”

Officer Melski gazed at us, bemused and possibly befuddled.

I figured Eddie would put Vera’s safety way above his. I turned to Kev. “We need to make sure he doesn’t get into that house. He’s probably rented a car and it’s a good three hours from Syracuse. Even so, he could arrive any minute now if he’s not already there. You take my car and make sure he doesn’t get down the driveway until we speak to him. I have to wait here for Detective Jones, unless Officer Melski will authorize me to leave.”

Officer Melski shook his head. “Nothing personal, but no way in hell.”

The phone rang.

I snatched it up. Eddie again.

“Eddie! You’re where? Taxi? From Syracuse? Really? Oh. Well, since you’re there, you have to listen to me. Vera’s in real danger.”

Kev blathered. The signora wailed. Officer Melski cleared his throat.

I said, “Hold on, Eddie, I have to find someplace quiet so I can hear you.” I shot a sheepish grin at Officer Melski and headed up the stairs before resuming my conversation. I didn’t want Melski to hear that I knew the contents of the will. Talk about an admission of guilt. I said, “Eddie, Muriel and her minions have weaseled their way into Vera’s will. Muriel will get everything. I know, it’s a shocker. Yeah, I went to the cops, but they couldn’t care less about Vera. You know how some people still hold a grudge. I’m pretty sure Muriel got Frank and Junior Riley to run me over with a truck. Oh yes, I was hit by a truck. Well, there’s been a lot going on here. Muriel has a solid alibi for the time it happened. I’m sure the Rileys did her dirty work. Now Frank and Junior are dead.

“Like I said, there’s a
lot
going on. This woman is dangerous, Eddie, and I’m counting on you to help me figure out what she has on Vera.” I returned to the kitchen still talking to Eddie. “The cops have been worse than useless. I need you to be on Muriel twenty-four-seven. Muriel’s sneaky. Thank you. Don’t even go to sleep. Please try to convince Vera to let Kev back in, and the signora. No. Of course, they didn’t rob her. Did Vera say that? Of course, it’s not true. It’s all part of Muriel’s shakedown.”

After Eddie hung up, Melski crossed his arms and said, “Worse than useless?”

I glanced at Melski. I didn’t want to accuse Melski of being useless. He was, after all, my alibi. I didn’t feel secure enough to tell him that I thought Detective Jones was part of the whole conspiracy. “Not you, of course, but I brought some very credible concerns to Detective Jones and he dismissed them. I don’t see how two hit-and-runs involving the same people couldn’t even warrant some follow-up. Then I saw him buddying up to the two guys who most likely ran me over and next thing I know Jones is breathing down my neck over the B&Es at Vera’s and what’s-his-face the lawyer.”

“Dwight Jenkins,” Melski said.

“Whatever. Do you see where I’m coming from?”

“The Rileys are dead.”

I sank onto the kitchen chair, feeling exhaustion and hopelessness wash over me. “Yes, I know.”

“You know? Their names haven’t been released to the media yet.”

I didn’t want to mention Sullivan’s. “It’s a small town. People start talking right away. I think I was at the gas station when I heard it first.”

“And you believed it?”

“The guy at the pumps has never steered me wrong before. I believe the Rileys tried to kill me.” I added, “The woman who witnessed it is terrified. She won’t talk. Here’s why I think Muriel Delgado’s connected. Her own stepfather was killed in a hit-and-run nearly forty years ago and her mother inherited from him. When the mother died shortly after, Muriel inherited from her. There was a million-dollar insurance policy in the pot too.”

Melski looked stunned. “You think she murdered her mother?”

“No, her mom was in very poor health. Muriel didn’t get along with her stepfather. If her mom died first, Muriel would have been out in the cold. Conveniently, Pete Delaney wound up dead before that could be a problem for Muriel.”

“And you know all this how?”

I was unwilling to throw Audra and the Snows to the wolves, although I didn’t really think that Melski was a wolf.

“You understand that I am not trusting everyone from the police, present company excepted.”

Melski stared at me for a long minute. Then he said, “What about this blond woman?”

“What?”

“We have a BOLO for a blond woman who was seen with the Rileys not long before they died. Detective Jones believes she’s involved.”