Chapter Forty-two
I made arrangements to rent the Corsica and leave it in the Common Cents lot. Hazel seemed the think that this was strange, so I explained that there was evidence in the car and that I could not risk it being lost or destroyed. She shrugged, filled out the paperwork and gave me the keys.
When I got back to my car, there was a message on my call answering. I played it back.
"Pagan," the trembling voice said, "This is Carole Lefler. I have to talk to you. Meet me at the entrance to Calvary Mall at two. Please, be there."
I tried her number. Her phone had been disconnected.
I wondered whether I should meet with her, considering that she was still the prime suspect, but she had suggested a public place, so I decided I would. I had an hour and a half until the meeting, so I called Schuyler.
He hadn't gone to lunch yet, so I suggested a picnic in the Calvary Mall courtyard, and he agreed. I stopped at a little gourmet deli that was on the way and bought some sandwiches and a bottle of sparkling grape juice to celebrate my good luck.
Schuyler was waiting on one of the benches when I got there. He greeted me with a kiss and we sat down and unwrapped our sandwiches. While we ate, I told him about my morning.
"You think Carole was involved," he asked.
"I didn't" I said. "Now, I don't know." I shrugged. "I'll know more this afternoon."
He moved closer and put an arm around me. "Just be careful," he said. "if she did do it, you're not talking about a simple robbery. Someone was killed. I don't want to think about..." He let the sentence trail off.
"You're worried about me," I said.
"Damned right."
"That's sweet," I said. "But not necessary. I don't plan to do anything stupid. Did you get the photo album from my office?"
"Oh, yeah." He took the photo album from his inside jacket pocket. It was a small book, covered in green velvet, that held one photograph per page. He handed it to me.
"I'm going to take this down to Common Cents and see if that old woman recognizes anyone," I said flipping through the pages. I had about fifty pictures in the book, all of them from company picnics and Christmas parties over the years.
In all, there were probably five hundred people in the pictures, most of whom, if I had known them at the time, I didn't remember now. But there was a good picture of Carole, and one of Amelia. There was also a four year old picture of Annie and Sharon Bannister. I had forgotten until just then that I had met them prior to Harvey's death.
Schuyler was leaning over my shoulder, looking at the pictures. I turned a page and found one of him, Jonas and myself.
"That's from last summer, isn't it," he asked, a note of irony in his voice.
"Uh huh," I said.
The day that picture was taken had been an unusually cool day in the middle of August, but the sun was shining and the sky was clear. The picnic itself had gone off without incident. Jack, of course, hadn't gone. For the first few years of our marriage, I could convince him to at least put in an appearance, but after that, he never attended any Crown Jewels function. And foolish me, I decided to leave early so he wouldn't be too upset.
I got to the parking lot and found that my car, at the time a vintage Corvette, was dead. I had it towed away, and Schuyler offered to drive me home.
We almost didn't make it out of the parking lot. We started talking about business. Soon, the conversation turned to just about anything we could think of. By the time I realized that it was starting to get dark, everyone else had left.
"I guess I'd better take you home," Schuyler had said. But his tone said that he didn't want to.
And I didn't want to go home. "Yes," I said. "You better."
Instead, he leaned across the seat and kissed me. Had I been thinking straight, I would have slapped his face and ended it right there. But I wasn't thinking straight. And it didn't end there. We didn't make love that night, but we came very close to it.
As much as I hate to admit it, stopping hadn't been my idea that night. I was prepared to give myself over to him completely.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, he moved back to his own seat. "This is wrong," he said. "It can't go anywhere." Without another word, he started the car and drove me home.
Jack suspected something, and when I got home, we had one of our loudest arguments. That night was the first time he hit me. I wondered now if that was the reason I hadn't stopped him the second time.
Schuyler and I never really talked about what almost happened. I had worried that it would change the friendship we had developed, but it didn't. We just went on as though nothing had happened, and if anything, our friendship grew stronger.
"I never apologized, did I," Schuyler asked, bringing me back to the present.
"There was no need," I said. "You didn't do anything I didn't want you to do."
He nodded slowly and brushed a lock of hair out of my face. When he looked at me, there was love in his eyes. "I thought about you, about us, so much after that. I always wanted to tell you, but I knew I shouldn't. And I didn't have the right words."
"Do you have the words now," I asked.
"Do you believe in love at first sight," he asked.
I nodded.
"I never did. I always thought that it was just physical attraction and that's not something you can build on. It doesn't last. But the first time I saw you, I felt something. It was the day I come in to interview for the job. You were standing at the counter, showing a bracelet to a man, and I wished I were him. Then he said something and you tossed your head back and laughed. I remember thinking, this is someone I want to know. It wasn't a sexual thought. It was more like, I could fall in love with her."
"And?"
"And I did," he said.
Chapter Forty-three
Carole Lefler walked through the doors at exactly two o'clock. She was wearing an old pair of jeans and a Hard Rock Cafe tee shirt. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun. She wore no make-up and looked very pale behind her large sunglasses. Even at a distance, I could see that her hands were shaking.
She looked around frantically. When she spotted me, she rushed over.
"I'm sorry about this," she said, "calling you like I did, but I've really got to talk to someone."
When she took off her glasses, I could see that she had been crying. Her eyes were rimmed with red and were bloodshot.
"Of course," I said. "Why don't we go outside where we can have some privacy?"
"No," she said, turning her head sharply toward the doors and then back. "Can we go to your office?"
She didn't know. "There's so much going on do now. We wouldn't have any privacy there," I said.
We finally settled on a little used corner bench in the lower level of the mall, out of the main flow of foot traffic. The only businesses that had survived here were a shoe repair shop and an engraver, the latter only because Crown Jewels sent a lot of business their way.
Carole sat facing the elevator and the stairway beyond that. She looked constantly from one to the other, as though she were expecting someone.
"Now, what's going on," I asked. Carole's nervousness was making me nervous. I looked over at the repair shop and saw Bill the Shoemaker, as we called him, busily working at his counter, within earshot should I need to scream for help.
"I lied to you the other day," she said.
"I know."
"Joe didn't get a job in New York. He didn't get a job anywhere. He got fired from Dreyfuss almost a year ago and hasn't worked since."
"I know that too. What happened?"
"When he was working on the Cornell Club, he was under a lot Of pressure. There was a committee overseeing the project, and they all had ideas, and he was trying to please them all." Carole had started crying. I took a Kleenex from my purse and offered it to her. "Thank you," she said. "Anyway, one of them, I don't know who, gave him..."
"Take your time, Carole," I said.
"One of them gave him some cocaine," she said. "He'd been working such long hours and he was so tired all the time, his judgment was all messed up and he took it. By the time I found out a few weeks later, it was too late."
"He was addicted," I said.
She nodded and wiped her eyes. "I tried to talk to him, to reason with him, but he didn't want to hear it. He said that it was helping him get through the project, and when it was over he would stop. And I believed him, Pagan. I really did. I thought that since it hadn't been going on for that long, that maybe he really could stop."
"But the project ended and he didn't," I said.
"No. it just got worse and worse. He'd get high and couldn't concentrate on his work. Then he'd get frustrated because he wasn't getting any work done and he had deadlines coming up, so he'd take some more. It changed him. He lost his temper for no reason, and when he did, I couldn't even talk to him. He'd go around to house knocking things over and tossing the cushions off the furniture and throwing them."
"Did he ever hurt you," I asked.
Carole's eyes got wide, stunned at the question. "No! He never laid a hand on me in anger. He loved me." She paused, then the stunned expression turned to curiosity. "Is that why you left Jack?"
"Yes," I said, "that was a big part of it."
"Oh, Pagan," she said, "I'm so sorry. Everyone just assumed, because you moved In with Schuyler, that..."
"That was part of it, too," I admitted, "although I didn't know it at the time. Go on."
"Well, it got even worse after Joe got fired," she said, a little calmer. "I begged him to look for a job, and he told me that he was. Every morning he would got dressed and look through the want ads. But I found out from neighbors that he never left the house while I was at work. He'd just sit out on the deck drinking bourbon straight out of the bottle. They didn't know about the cocaine, but he was doing that, too, more and more. In a couple of months, all of our savings was gone. And with just my income, we weren't making ends meet. Then..." She wiped her eyes again.
There were footsteps coming down the stairs and Carole tensed. She relaxed a little when the man turned and went into the repair shop. She didn't speak again until he had finished his transaction and left.
"Then three months ago, I found out that he had taken out a second mortgage on the condo. I couldn't make the payment on the first one. I... I took a night job, doing telemarketing, and that helped a little, but nothing I could have done would have been enough."
She picked a leaf off of one of the plants in the planter next to the bench and started tearing it into tiny pieces. "Before I knew it all the money was gone and we were in debt. The bank was going to foreclose on the condo. I had to sell the car. Then the phone calls started. At first, they would hang up if I answered. But then, Joe stopped answering the phone, so they had to talk to me. It was usually the same man. He would say, 'We want our money,' and tell me what would happen if he didn't got it."
"That must have been frightening," I said.
She nodded. "About a month ago, I finally called my brother and told him what was going on. He told me that I had to got Joe into a program. He talked to his priest and got some names and looked into it for me. We decided on a place. I knew that I couldn't tell Joe what we were going to do, and Kevin, my brother, he came up with this plan."
Here it comes, I thought. She's chosen me to confess to.
"He come into town about two weeks ago. We rented a car. Kevin kept it at the hotel until the night we'd decided on. Joe passed out about ten o'clock, and I called Kevin. He come over, and..." She paused.
"Are you sure you want to tell me this," I asked.
She nodded again. "Kevin tried to tie Joe up, but he woke up and, well, he went kind of crazy. That's why the place looked like it did when you were there. He knocked over the bookcase and started throwing things. He and Kevin got into a fist fight and Kevin finally knocked him out."
She began to sob and buried her face in her hands. I could do nothing but pat her shoulder and let her cry. When the tears finally slowed, she blurted out the rest of her "confession".
"We had to shut him in the trunk of the car and take him to the rehabilitation center. We just left him there. They took him away and didn't even let me say good-bye." The sobs started again, but ended much sooner. "That's why I have to leave town," she whispered.
"There's no shame in what you did," I said.
"I know. But whoever he owed money to, they know who I am and where I live, and they're still calling and the threats are getting worse."
"Why don't you go to the police," I asked.
"I don't want Joe to got in trouble," she said. She picked another leaf and began shredding it. When she spoke again, her voice was so low that I had to strain to hear her words. "Toward the end, he'd started... He'd started selling drugs to support his habit."
I walked Carole to her car. I didn't think that she was in any condition to drive, but she said that she would just sit there for a little while until she got herself under control.
I wanted to beg her forgiveness for what I had been thinking, but I said nothing. She was upset enough without the knowledge that I had suspected her.
Chapter Forty-four
I was sitting in the car, organizing the photographs that I wanted to show to Hazel Schultz, when my cellular phone started to ring.
"Pagan, sweetheart," said the gravely voice on the line, "it's me, Vince. I been trying to get through to you all day!"
"I've been busy," I said. Why didn't you leave a message?"
He laughed. "News like this you don't leave on a machine, Babe. You do remember our deal?"
"Aquamarine brooch, Alexandrite ring, and the lavender diamond. Why, you got something for me?"
"Do I ever," he said. "I got the brooch sitting right here on my desk. Along with a few other pieces. Including a diamond solitaire, about seven and a half carats, set in platinum. There's a little logo on the inside of the band that looks strangely familiar."
My heart was racing and a little shiver of excitement went through me. "It wouldn't be a crown with the initials CJ in the center, would it?"
"You a psychic or something," Vince asked.
"So, who brought it in?"
"Never seen her before. She introduced herself as Elizabeth James, but the didn't act real sure that it was her name, I you know what I mean. Got a video tape of the whole transaction, though."
He didn't have a VCR in his office, so he asked me to meet him at his home, and gave me the address. I made it there in ten minutes flat.
Vince was standing in the driveway when I pulled in. He waved the tape in the air as I got out of the car.
"Vince, you're an angel," I said. I ran up to him and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"You may be the only one who thinks so," he said, blushing.
He led me up the sidewalk and into the little salt-block house. The front door opened into a tiny foyer, from which you could go straight and wind up in the coat closet or turn left and go through the narrowest hallway I had ever seen. Vince proceeded me down the hall, holding his arms in front of him so as not to scrape the walls with his rings.
The living room at the end of the hallway looked like something out of the fifties. The valences over the windows were mustard yellow taffeta, and below, hand made lace panels covered the lower half of the windows. The pale green velvet covered antique oak furniture was arranged in a cozy conversation area, with the old console television as its centerpiece. All of the table and shelf space was taken up with expensive knickknacks; Limoges boxes, Dresden and Lladro figurines, and an array of antique china plates. All of them were set on lace doilies.
The smells of garlic and oregano drifted in from the kitchen, which opened off the back of the room, and mingled with the sweet scent of mulberry potpourri and the lingering odor of Vince's cigars.
Vince hung his suit coat on the rack in the corner. "Vera," he called, "I'm home. Brought a guest."
Vera, a short and stout women with thick gray hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head, appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Hello," she said to me.
"This is Pagan Brock from Crown Jewels," Vince told her.
Vera wiped her hands on her clean white apron and came over to me. "Nice to meet you, Dear," she said. "I've heard a great deal about you. Will you be staying for dinner?"
"Absolutely," Vince said before I could reply. "Vera makes the best spaghetti and meatballs in the free world."
"Wonderful," Vera said while Vince was still talking. "Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. Why don't you have a seat and I'll call you when its done." She disappeared back into the kitchen.
It was obviously a conspiracy. "I guess I'm staying," I said.
Vince showed me to a chair and took a seat on the sofa.
"Of course, you are," he said. "I been trying to got you over here for dinner for two years. You're not leaving until you've had a proper meal."
After dinner, which consisted of not only spaghetti and meatballs, but also toasted ravioli, fresh bread with seasoned olive oil, wine and cannoli, Vince took me into his den to show me the video tape.
The den walls were a gallery of framed photographs of Vince with his many associates. I recognized many of the people posing with him. There were movie stars, sports heroes and at least one ex-president of the United States. I tried not to be too impressed.
Vince loaded the tape into to the latest top of the line recorder, which was kept hidden from view in a cabinet, and turned on the television set while he rewound the tape to the portion I was interested in, I took a seat on the overstuffed kid leather couch.
When he got the tape running, he sat down at his desk and lit a cigar.
I watched the entire twenty minute transaction without saying a word, and, I hope, without showing too much emotion. In truth I was too stunned to speak.
When "Elizabeth James" finally stood and left the office, Vince picked up the remote control and shut off the television.
"You recognize her," he asked.
I leaned back on the couch and sighed. It made sense in a twisted perverse way, but it was hard to believe, and harder to understand. "Yes," I said.
"Well, who Is she?"
I thought about telling him, but I didn't see what good that would do. "You'll be reading about it in the paper soon enough," I said.
Chapter Forty-five
I rang the doorbell with a heavy heart. I had driven slowly on the way to this destination, all the way trying to put two and two together and coming up with nothing. Yes, there was some rationality to it and, in a way, I could understand why she had done it. How she could have done such a thing was another matter.
Time and again, I had rehearsed what I had to say. Knowing the words didn't make saying them any easier,
Jonas opened to door. He took one look at my face, raised his hand, and shook his head. Don't say anything, he was saying. Not yet.
He stepped aside to let me in, and we went into the parlor. He pointed to a chair, and I sat down. He crossed to the other side of the room and poured two drinks, whiskey straight. When he turned around, he stood for a moment under the portrait of his father, looking at me. I didn't have the strength to look him in the eye, so I concentrated on the portrait behind him, tried to recall my memories of Eligh Silvers. All I could think was, he must be turning over in his grave.
Finally, Jonas picked up the whiskey bottle and brought it, along with the two glasses, to where I was sitting. He handed me one of the glasses then sat down in the chair across from me. He downed his drink in one gulp and refilled his glass. To be polite I took a sip of to whiskey. It tasted like hell, but it felt good.
Halfway through his second drink Jonas gave a slight nod of his head. Permission to proceed with what I had come for.
"How long have you known," I asked.
He shook his head. "I didn't. Not 'til you showed up." He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes.
"You suspected, though. God, Jonas, why didn't you tell me?"
"Would you have said anything? I don't think so."
I thought about it. "I don't know," I said. "You're probably right. I don't think I would. But, dammit Jonas, I could have helped you. You know I would do anything for you."
"What could you have done," he bellowed. "What in the hell could you have done?"
The answer was simple. Nothing.
His tears were falling freely now. And this time, I didn't look away. Instead, I cried with him.
"Where's Rebecca now," I asked.
Jonas shook his head and wiped his eyes again. "Why would she do it, Pagan? I gave her everything. Why?"
"I could tell you, Jonas," I said. "But you're hurting enough already. And I think you know. It's why you suspected her. Its why you did what you did to me."
He reached once more to refill his glass, but he was trembling too badly to got to cap off to bottle. I did it for him, and refilled my own on glass while I was at it.
"She never forgave me, did she," he asked. "She did it to hurt me. To make me pay for choosing you over her."
"No," I said, trying to sound positive. "She did it to hurt me. To get even with me for taking what she thought was her rightful place. It's me she hates. Not you. It wasn't your ring that was planed at the scene, was it? No. It was mine."
"But it was my fault."
"No. It was no one's fault." That didn't sound quite right. "It was Rebecca's fault. Don't blame yourself. You made the best decision you could."
Jonas nodded. There was a hint of regret in his face, but only a hint. Several times, he started to speak then changed his mind. I knew what he was going to ask but didn't say anything. He needed to ask the question himself.
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't have any evidence I can take to the police," I said. "But I have to do something. I have to tell them what I know. I hope you understand."
He nodded. A tear rolled down his cheek and he brushed it away, disgusted at himself for crying in front of me. But how could I hold it against him.
"But, I won't do anything for twenty-four hours," I said. "Take that time to do whatever it is you have to do. And don't tell me about it. I don't want to know."
"Thank you," he said, and covered his face with his hands. His body was racked with sobs. I fell to my knees and held him while he cried.
"I love you, kid," he whispered through his tears.
Chapter Forty-six
I spent most of that night leaning on the window ledge, alternately staring out at the silhouettes of the trees in the moonlight and watching Schuyler sleep, his breath coming slow and even, a smile on his face.
I hadn't told him about Rebecca. It didn't feel right, keeping that from him. He knew that something was wrong, but he'd been kind enough not to ask me about it. He could sense that I wasn't ready to talk.
In the morning, I would return to Common Cents Auto Rental, although why I planned to do so was a mystery to me. Rebecca had access to all of the information needed to commit the crime. It would be a simple thing for her to get the combination to the vault. Jonas had the numbers written down in a file at home. He kept the cabinet locked at all times, but that wouldn't stop her. The security code was probably common knowledge in the Silvers household. After all, why would Jonas be concerned about his own family knowing it? And the other security measures? Rebecca had worked at Crown Jewels summers and school vacations all through high school. She had the same opportunity to observe these things as anyone else.
It was possible that her accomplice had been someone from the inside. It was possible, but it was not likely. It was much more likely that she had worked out the scheme with someone she met when she was off at college. A boyfriend, perhaps.
But as long as the possibility remained, I would check it out. After all, it was a plan, and it was the only plan I had. True enough, I could ask her. I could have Jonas ask her. But she wouldn't tell me anything. And Jonas wouldn't have the courage to confront her in such a way. I couldn't ask him to.
Chapter Forty-seven
Hazel Schultz recognized the man who had claimed to be Mr. Richard James from Elgin, Illinois. I asked her if she was sure. She said she was. I asked her if there was any doubt in her mind. She said there wasn't. I asked her if there was any reason why she would lie to me. She looked at me as though I were crazy. I took that as a no.
I left the Common Cents office in a daze. I hadn't really expected to learn anything from her. I would never have expected to learn what I did. It was too much. Too unbelievable. Too…
Too devastating.
The clues had all been there. I hadn't seen them, or I had chosen not to see them. I don't know which it was.
I don't remember driving to the house, but suddenly I was there, sitting in my car in the driveway. His car was there. So was hers. Any doubts that had been in my mind before were gone. There was no other reason for Rebecca's car to be here.
As I walked up the sidewalk, I saw nothing, as I'd seen nothing on the drive there. I didn't know what I planned to say or what I planned to do.
It was like a dream, a horrible nightmare. I felt somehow disconnected from my body. The world around me seemed hazy, surreal.
I was standing on the porch, the key in my hand. Think about this, Pagan, I told myself. Think about why you're here. Turn back. Don't do this.
Another part of my mind refused to listen. I put the key in the lock, turned the knob and stepped inside.
The foyer was dark and cold, even at noon on this hot summer day. Had it always been that way? Or was it just my altered perception? That didn't matter.
From deep inside the house, I heard the sound of human voices. I couldn't make out their words, but I was certain that they were talking about me. How easy it had been to make me look guilty, to ruin me, to destroy everything that I had loved. They laughed. What a fool she is. She never suspected a thing. How blind can someone be?
I made my way through the house. At some point, I dropped my purse on a chair or a table. I don't really know which. But not before I reached inside and took something out. I had forgotten it was there, until I found out who he was and what he'd done to me.
I closed my hand around the object. It felt strangely unfamiliar and heavy in my hand. And hot. Burning.
As I passed through the living room, their voices grew louder. I could make out a few of their words, but I didn't really hear them.
They were sitting at the table in the kitchen. There were three bulging burlap sacks piled in one corner. The fourth lay empty on the floor at their feet. It's former contents were spread over the table.
They hadn't seen me yet. I stood silently in the shadows, watching.
He picked up a necklace and fastened it around her neck. Then he stood back to look at her.
"I think you should keep that one, Darling," he told her. "It looks beautiful on you." He leaned forward and kissed her.
"Do you really think so," she asked. "I like the diamond choker better."
"Keep them both," he said. "After all, we didn't have to pay for them."
She laughed. "You're right. And while I'm at it, I might as well keep this ring, too." She held up her hand and examined the large ruby on her finger. "Red's not my color, but what the hell. Right?"
He laughed, too. Then he pulled her up and out of the chair. He spun her around and kissed her again, more passionately this time.
I felt sick, angry, betrayed. I couldn't watch anymore. I stepped out of the shadows and into the kitchen.
"How could you do this, Jack," I asked.
Jack let go of Rebecca. He stepped back and looked at me with a stunned and confused look on his face. "Pagan," he gasped. "How?"
"How did I know? This was part of it," I said, and held up the ring box in my hand. "This ring gave you away. The one you supposedly bought for our anniversary. Tell me, Jack, when was the last time you were in Crown Jewels? Before the robbery, I mean."
Jack had regained his composure, and he regarded me with a cold stare. "I didn't think you'd figure that out. Congratulations. You're not quite as stupid as I thought you were."
"It was all an act, wasn't it? Asking me to come back to you. Pretending to care about me. Why did you do that, Jack?"
He smiled a horrible, demonic smile. "It wasn't all an act," he said. "I did want you to come back. I wanted you to come back so I could watch you suffer. So I could watch while the only thing you've ever really cared about was taken away from you."
"Crown Jewels," I said.
"Yes. It was your lord and master. How could I compete with this," he asked, and scooped up a handful of the jewelry form the table. "This is all you're capable of loving. This is your world. And I took it away from you. How distraught you must have been. I only wish that I could have seen your face when Jonas told you that he wanted you to leave. That would have been the ultimate prize. But it's enough to know that you were in pain."
"There was never any seminar in Chicago, was there?"
Jack sat down in one of the chairs, crossed his legs and studied me for a few moments. "Maybe you are as stupid as I thought you were," he said. "No, there was no seminar."
"And the ring. It was never lost. You took it."
"While you were sleeping. I slipped it off your finger and hid it. That was fun. Watching you turn the house upside down looking for it, and all the while, I knew exactly where it was. In case you were wondering, I taped it to the bottom of one of the dresser drawers. Not a very creative place, but it did the trick."
"Why did you kill the guard?"
"Good old Harv. Pagan, dear," he said, tapping his temple with his index finger, "think about it. I couldn't leave a witness who could swear that you weren't one of the robbers, could I? That would have ruined the plan."
"I have a pretty good idea of how you did it," I said. "But there's one thing I haven't figured out. Charlie Howard didn't see a car in the lot. Where did you hide it?"
"That was the most beautiful part of the plan. The ideal place was built right into the mall. Behind the dumpster! Right there, not a hundred yards from the front door of Crown Jewels. I was a little concerned that a security guard would come along while we were parking the car in there, but I had a pretty good idea of the timing of their patrols."
We. He had said "while we were parking the car." I had completely forgotten Rebecca. She had slipped out of the kitchen.
I felt a sharp jab in the small of my back. I could see the reflection of Rebecca's face behind me in the kitchen window. She had a gun.
"You didn't think we were going to let you walk out of here, did you," Jack asked, amused. "How shall we handle this, Becky?"
"Well," Rebecca said, "I think it should be a suicide. She was remorseful over killing that guard, and she just couldn't go on." She stepped in front of me and aimed the gun at my heart. "You know, Jack, she's not the type who would shoot herself. She wouldn't want to ruin her pretty face."
He stood up and looked at me. "I think you're right. How will she do it, then?"
Rebecca thought about it for a minute. "She'll drive her car into the river. She'll have to leave a note. Otherwise they won't think to look for her. They'll just assume that she packed up the loot and left town."
"Good idea. We'll even put some of the jewelry in the car to make it look convincing. Just a few pieces."
"I hate to part with any of it. I mean, and not get any money for it. Do you think that's really necessary?"
Jack started selecting a few pieces from the assortment on the table. "We wouldn't get much for these anyway. We'll never know the difference." Jack slipped the jewelry into his pocket. He walked up behind Rebecca and took the gun out of her hand. "Go find her purse and get her car keys. We'll be right behind you."
Rebecca disappeared into the living room. A moment later she called, "I've got them!"
"Turn around and walk to the front door," Jack said.
I didn't move.
"Do it now," he said.
I turned slowly and walked through the living room. I could hear Jack's footsteps behind me. I stopped up into the foyer. Jack stepped up behind me. Rebecca was waiting there.
It happened so fast that I didn't realize for a moment that anything had happened at all. The door burst open and three police officers were suddenly in the room, their guns drawn, In the same instant, Jack's arm was around my neck, and the barrel of the gun was against my right temple.
"Drop the gun," one of the policemen yelled.
"Drop yours!" Jack's voice was loud in my ears. "Drop them or I'll shoot her!"
The cops glanced at one another. What do we do? Then, slowly, the one who was in front of the others nodded. They started to lower the guns.
"No, don't!" The cops were shocked into obeying that command, but who had said it? Without daring to move my head, I looked around. Everyone was staring at me. Had that voice been my own?
"Jack, listen to me," I said. "If you shoot me, they'll shoot you. And don't even think that they would hesitate to do it."
"Don't listen to her, Jack," Rebecca said.
"Either way, Jack, you loose. They know who you are, and they know what you've done. Do you really think they'll let you walk away?"
"Jack, we can use her as a hostage."
"How far do you think you'll get? They'll have people watching the airport. Every road out of town will be blocked. They'll have the SWAT team waiting. You'll never make it, Jack."
At some point, Schuyler and Jonas had appeared on the front porch, and one of the policemen had slipped away to push them out of the line of fire.
"Jack, we can get out of this," Rebecca said. "Don't listen to her."
"She's right, Becky," Jack said.
"No. She's not."
There was a long pause while Jack considered his options. Finally, I felt the pressure of the gun lifted from my head. "I'm putting the gun down," he said.
At some point, Jack and Rebecca must have been taken away. The jewels must have been gathered up and taken as evidence. At some point, the police left the house. I don't remember any of it. I had fainted.
When I woke up, I was laying on the couch in the living room. Schuyler was kneeling over me with that expression of deep concern that makes the laugh lines around his eyes look so deep and so endearing. I wanted to reach up and kiss his eyes, but my head hurt too much to move.
"Do you remember what happened," he asked softly.
"Most of it," I said.
"Good." He stroked my hair and kissed me lightly. "The paramedics are waiting outside. They want to take you to the hospital and check you out. Make sure you're all right."
"No," I said. "Not yet."
At my insistence, Schuyler helped me into a sitting position. After a minute or so, the dizziness left and the pain in my head started to subside.
"You hit your head on the marble bench when you passed out," Schuyler told me. "You're going to have one hell of a goose egg in the morning."
I reached up to touch my head and found the spot instantly. I should have taken his word for it. A fresh rush of pain and dizziness came over me.
"How did you know," I asked.
The concern in his eyes deepened even more. "You don't remember? You called Jonas."
"No," I said. "Did I?" It was coming back to me. "In the car, on the way here."
"Right. And he called the police. Then he called me."
I looked around. The effort made the dizziness worse. "Where is he?"
"He went with Rebecca down to the police station. He's very worried about you. So am I." He smiled and took my hand. "When I get you home, we're going to have a little talk about this."
"I feel a lecture coming on," I said. I tried to smile back, but that hurt, too.
"Damned right. I almost lost you today. And after I just found you. Just promise that you'll never do anything this foolish again."
I promised.
Chapter Forty-eight
It was another two weeks before I returned to Crown Jewels. Jonas thought that I needed the time to recover and, in his words, get my head on straight, before facing the hectic schedule that lay ahead.
He gave Schuyler the time off, too. Jonas told me, when I asked him, that it was Schuyler's scheduled vacation time anyway. What a coincidence. In reality, he just wanted Schuyler to look after me.
We went to Arizona to visit my parents. My father actually liked him, which truth be know, is a first. He'd never thought that anyone would be good enough for his little girl.
On the way back, we stopped for a few days in Colorado, so I could meet his parents. They actually expected me to milk a cow, but after I got them straightened out on that point, we had a good time.
When we got back to town, I moved back into the house I had shared with Jack, but only long enough to pack everything up and put the place on the market. I found a new house a few miles from Schuyler's. It was smaller that I was used to, but it had a fenced in yard, so Duke and Sadie could come over for visits. I told them that they could bring Schuyler along any time they wanted to. Duke flopped his tail once and went back to sleep. He was very excited.
Jack plead guilty to all of the charges against him. There was no way out for him, and he knew it. A sentencing date was set for the middle of August. I didn't plan to attend. As far as I was concerned, my life with him was ancient history, and it could stay that way.
Rebecca, on the other hand, plead innocent. She claimed that Jack had been the mastermind behind the robbery and she had been forced to go along with him. No one really believed her. The press made her out as the villain behind the whole thing. There are three sides to every story. His, hers and the truth. I suppose we'll never know exactly how it came to be.
Chad Washington called me the night before I went back to work. He asked me if I had read the newspaper yet. I told him I hadn't. He said he'd wait while I got it and read the article on page four. Lt. Charles Shapiro, who had been under investigation for improper conduct, had been fired. I should have taken some joy in that. But really, I felt sorry for him.
My first day back at Crown Jewels was the day of the grand reopening. Schuyler and I got there a little early. We wanted to look around before the press and the curiosity seekers converged on the place at nine o'clock.
Handling the press, as always, was a task assigned to me. It had taken me several days to come up with a statement that was at once detailed enough to satisfy everyone and vague enough to protect the feelings of the innocent, namely Jonas and myself.
After the press conference and the reception that followed, I slipped away from the crowd of well-wishers and concerned friends. I needed to talk to Jonas. I found him in his office.
"How's it going out there, kid?"
"Just fine. You should come on out and join the party."
He shook his head. "Don't feel much like celebrating just now."
"I know," I said. "I have something here that I think you should have." I reached into my pocket and brought out the photograph of Amelia Bannister and Eligh Silvers, and laid it on the desk.
Jonas picked it up and looked it over. "You figured it out," he said. There was little emotion in his voice.
"I'd always wondered why you kept Harvey on the payroll, considering his drinking. I just figured that it was because he'd been around so long. It was part of the deal, wasn't it?"
"My father was a good man, Pagan. He made a few mistakes. We all do. His biggest was Amelia. I didn't know about it until just before he died. See, when Amelia found out she was pregnant, she came to him and wanted money for an abortion. Well, it was illegal then and Dad wouldn't have anything to do with it. He told her that she'd either have to marry someone or he'd pay for her to go away somewhere to have the baby."
"So she married Harvey Bannister."
"Right. She demanded that Dad give Harvey a job. And took a nice cash settlement in addition. Ten thousand dollars. At the time, that was big bucks. But time passed, and before too long, it didn't seem like that much after all."
"She blackmailed him for all those years?"
"I wouldn't exactly call it blackmail. More like outrageous child support. After my mother died, he stopped paying her. He figured, where ever Mom was by then, she know about it and he couldn't protect her from the truth anymore. But he kept Harvey on here. Sharon's not too bright, but I suppose you know that. She's not really able to hold a job. Harvey was supporting her. Dad couldn't let his own child suffer."
I didn't tell him what I knew of Sharon's childhood. It was over, and that was good enough.
Back to Crown Jewels index|Back to main index