“My grandson,” Carl said, looking embarrassed.
Seth grinned.
“Either I or Claire will let you know,” Seth said.
“Deal,” Carl said and gave Seth a big smile.
Seth started into the apartment.
“You looking for Di’s book?” Carl asked.
Seth turned around to look at the man.
“What do you know?” Seth asked.
“Right after Big Daddy died, some guy came by looking for something he called ‘Dinah’s book,’” Carl said. “I was working, so he talked to my wife. He sounded like he was mobbed up; tried to pressure my wife. She’s a tough old gal. Stared him down. We haven’t dared leave the apartment alone for fear that they’d level the place. When my wife and I are working, my son or daughter is here.”
“If we find it, we’ll make sure they know that we have it,” Seth said.
Carl nodded. They went into the kitchen where Bernice was stepping heel-to-toe in her bare feet. She turned left. There was what looked like a structural beam.
“We’ve done this twice, Seth,” Bernice said. “You sure it’s there?”
Seth knelt down to where Bernice was standing and pressed with his fingers. A board popped up against the pressure. Seth lifted a ten inch-long piece of oak flooring and gave it to Claire, who was now crouched beside him. His fingers went down below the floor and felt around under this beam. He pulled out a newspaper and a checkbook.
The tips of his fingers could feel something that felt like the edges of a book of some kind. The book was wedged into a space between two two-by-eights in what they thought was a support beam.
“Dinah had tiny hands,” Bernice said.
Seth scowled and leaned back. Using his knuckles, he tapped vertically along the beam. The beam sounded more solid about a foot off the floor.
“It looks like they cut a piece of this beam out,” Seth said. He turned to look at Bernice. “Would they do that?”
“I’m not sure what you’re asking,” Bernice said.
“There seems to be a support beam here,” Seth said. He glanced at Carl. “It probably goes through the entire building. I’d guess there’s one in every apartment.”
“There’s one in my brother’s apartment,” Carl said. He thought for a moment. “Every apartment I’ve been into has a beam like that. In the kitchen, I mean.”
“There is either a design flaw here or Di and Bud built a secret compartment,” Seth said.
“You mean the building’s going to fall down?” Carl asked.
“No,” Seth said. “They took what’s likely to be an eight-by-eight, cut a piece out of it, and added back two two-by-eights. Leaving a foot-long, four-inch gap.”
Seth looked at Carl.
“You didn’t know this?” Seth asked Carl.
“No, sir,” Carl said. “I’ve lived in this apartment since Di and Bud died. First with my mother and then with my wife and kids. We never knew anything about that.”
Seth nodded to Carl and looked at Bernice.
“Would they have made this?” Seth asked.
“Some kind of safe?” Bernice asked.
“It’s like a safe,” Seth said with a nod.
“They wouldn’t have made it themselves,” Bernice said. “Neither of them could swing a hammer. But they would have had the folks building this building make it for them. Di and Bud were celebrities. You know what they were like! They always had people doing them special favors just to be around them. It wouldn’t surprise me at all. I wonder . . .”
Bernice walked out of the apartment.
“Go with her,” Seth said to R.J.
R.J. glanced at Carl.
“I can stay with them,” Carl said.
“Go!” Seth said.
R.J. nodded and jogged after Bernice.
“My hands are smaller,” Claire said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “They’re not as strong as yours, but Di’s wouldn’t have been, either.”
Seth got up. He took off his jacket and made a little pillow out of it. He put it down and helped Claire kneel on it. Claire bent over and stuck her hand into the floor in the same manner that she’d seen Di do all those years ago.
“Oh,” Claire said. “I see what you mean, Seth.”
She tried again.
“It’s tricky,” Claire said.
Claire closed her eyes and moved her hand. She seemed to take forever in that position. Seth was about to push her aside when she pulled out a rubber-band-bound Filofax stuffed with papers. She gave the book to Seth.
“Sorry it took so long,” Claire said, reading the impatience on Seth’s face. “There’s actually a bunch of stuff in there. Hold that.”
She turned back to the wall, bent over, and dug around into this private area. She pulled out a thick band of bills and gave them to Seth. She next found a stack of newspaper clippings.
“Wait, there’s something else here,” Claire said. “It’s something hard, wrapped in plastic . . . It’s stuck.”
Seth kicked the wall with the soul of his shoe, and they heard the object drop below the floor. Claire reached in and caught the edge of a thick plastic bag. She tugged on the edge of the bag but couldn’t get the object out of the space.
“Let me try,” Seth said.
Seth leaned over her and grabbed the bag. He gave it a strong jerk. The bag ripped, and the metal object flew out of the hole. Seth knocked Claire out of the way.
“Watch yourself,” Carl said as he grabbed Seth to move him out of the way.
The object flew across the kitchen and landed in the cabinet behind them. Carl went to look at it.
“Don’t touch it!” Seth said.
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Twenty
“What is it?” Claire asked from where she’d landed on the floor.
“It’s a knife.” Carl pointed to the object. “That’s blood.”
“What do you think it is?” Claire said.
“Trouble,” Carl said at the same time Seth said, “Murder weapon.”
“You’re going to call the cops, right?” Carl asked.
“I kind of have to,” Seth said.
“What about the rest of this?” Carl asked.
“We’ll keep the book,” Seth said.
“You can keep the money,” Claire said. “For your trouble.”
Carl looked at Seth, and he nodded. Carl turned back to Claire while Seth went to look at the knife.
“You’re sure?” Carl asked.
“You might want to have Seth get it checked before you spend it,” Claire said.
“Why’s that?” Carl asked.
“Could be from a bank robbery or something like that,” Claire said. “You could spend it at the liquor store in the morning and wind up in jail in the evening.”
“Seriously?” Carl asked Seth.
Seth nodded. He leaned down to pick up his jacket. He shook out the jacket and put it on.
“But don’t worry,” Claire said. “Seth will know someone who will check. Just give it to him.”
Carl nodded.
“Hey, Seth,” R.J. said at the door. “You’ve got to come.”
Seth stood up and pointed at Carl.
“Call the police,” Seth said. “Ask for Forensics Inspector Oscar Dekay. He’s a friend of mine and is working this case. Tell him that I started digging around and found the knife and the money. Tell him to bring a forensics team.”
“But the money, Seth?” Claire asked.
“He’s got to check it first,” Seth said. “He’ll also count it. If we get it back — which is probably a 50/50 proposition — it’s yours. If we don’t, I’ll make up the difference. Deal?”
“Deal,” Carl said.
“Call now,” Seth said.
“I’ll do it,” Carl said and took out his phone.
Seth took Claire’s elbow and helped her up. They jogged down the hallway to Bernice’s old apartment. They passed a bewildered young w
oman at the door, to find Bernice weeping in the kitchen. She was sitting cross-legged with something in her lap. Bernice was such a dignified person in such an undignified position that Claire couldn’t help but rush to her. Claire bent down and held the older woman tight. The women rocked with the intensity of Bernice’s sobs.
“What happened?” Seth asked R.J. and looked at the woman at the door.
“She asked if she could come in,” the young woman said. “Told me she’d left something and needed to get it from a hiding place. I was like ‘Sure.’ I mean, it’s Mrs. Bernice. It’s the least I could do for her.”
The woman nodded sincerely.
“You’re Seth O’Malley,” the young woman said. “I’m Che’Linda Radiz. You might know me as Che’Linda Jones.”
Seth squinted at the young woman.
“Janet’s daughter?” Seth asked at the same time the young woman said, “You know my mom — Janet Jones.”
Seth recovered first and stuck out his hand. Janet Jones was a particularly talented self-taught viola player. She was currently working in Seth’s orchestra.
“Nice to meet you,” Seth said. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Che’Linda blushed.
“I’m just here because . . .” Che’Linda gestured to the baby sleeping in the living room. “I got in because Mrs. Bernice insisted that I get the apartment. It’s three bedrooms. There hasn’t been one open here in more than two years. My husband’s on a tour. Navy. In the South China Sea.”
Che’Linda nodded and gave a sad smile.
“We need the space because I’m a virtual assistant — you know, online,” Che’Linda said. “My husband has a kid from high school. He comes over every other weekend even though my husband’s on tour. My husband’s mother stays for weeks at a time. We’d never have any of this if it wasn’t for Mrs. Bernice.”
“Seth?” Claire asked.
Che’Linda gestured to the kitchen, and Seth went to see what was going on. Claire was holding up a small photo album.
“It’s a photo album of Big Daddy and Bernice,” Claire said. “With a letter from Big Daddy. Written right before his death. Very sweet.”
“Come on, Mrs. Bernice,” Che’Linda said. Between Che’Linda and R.J., they were able to get Bernice off the floor. “Why don’t you show me the pictures in the living room. I’ll make a little tea?”
Che’Linda’s eyes flicked to Seth, who shook his head and to Claire, who nodded. Weeping, Bernice clutched the items to her chest while R.J. helped her into the living room. Che’Linda filled an ancient kettle and turned on the flame. The girl opened a cabinet and stood on her tiptoes to get down a metal can.
“Cookies from my mom,” Che’Linda said. “You go on.”
Claire leaned down to see if there was anything else in the area. She pulled out a stack of bills wrapped in a rubber band similar to the one they’d found in Di and Bud’s old apartment. She didn’t find anything else in the area in the support beam. Hearing a number of feet jogging in their direction in the hall, Che’Linda closed the door.
“They don’t need to know about this,” Che’Linda said. “Do they?”
“No,” Seth said.
Claire shook her head. The shrill call of the kettle rang, and Che’Linda went to the stove. She made some peppermint tea in a pot and took out some mugs.
“We should check Susan’s,” Seth said. “She may have one of these, too.”
“Mrs. Bernice can stay here as long as she wants,” Che’Linda said. “My mom’s coming over in a bit. She’s done for the week?”
“I haven’t heard, but a couple of days at least,” Seth said. “Your mom’s asked to be in the orchestra that plays for the final version.”
“Like last time,” Che’Linda said.
“That will be another week,” Seth said. “At the earliest.”
Che’Linda nodded and turned her attention to her guests. Seth helped Claire up off the floor. He listened at the door to see if anyone else was coming down the hallway. Hearing nothing, they crept out of Bernice’s old apartment. They went down the hall by memory and knocked on the door.
An elderly woman answered the door. As if she were waiting for someone, her hair was done and she was wearing a skirt, blouse, hose, and heels. She pleasantly told Seth that she remembered Susan and knew about the private area in the kitchen. She said that they found it when there was a water leak. The super had replaced the support beam and sealed up the area. The woman said that it was empty now.
“What did you find?” Seth asked, sharply.
The woman gave him a long, blank look. She glanced down the hall and then waved them inside the apartment. They followed her into a living room filled with comfortable furniture. Old photographs lined the walls, and dust-free trinkets filled the shelves.
“Money,” the woman said.
She went to her kitchen and pulled out a stack of bills wrapped in a rubber band.
“I didn’t do nothing with it,” the woman said. “I don’t trust nothing I don’t get from my own hands. You want it?”
“Seems like it’s yours,” Seth said.
The woman’s eyes scanned Seth’s face before she gave him a sight nod.
“I kept it in case I needed it for something — hospital or my son caught a case or something the grandkids needed,” the woman said.
“We aren’t sure where it came from,” Seth said.
“You’re Seth O’Malley,” the woman said. “Can’t you check it?”
“I can,” Seth said with a nod.
Nodding, the woman gave the money to Seth. He stuck it in the pocket of his suit jacket. Claire turned and started toward the door.
“I heard you’re looking into a friend of mine’s death,” the woman said, mildly.
“Depends on who your friend is,” Seth said.
“Some called her ‘Raven,’” the woman said.
Seth blinked at the woman. Claire turned around the moment she heard the name. Without turning his head, Seth pointed to a picture on the wall.
“Is that you?” Seth asked.
The woman smiled.
“You have somewhere you need to be?” the woman asked.
Seth shook his head and glanced at Claire. She shook her head. The woman waved Claire and Seth into chairs in her living room and went to her landline telephone. She made three phone calls, each one consisting of her saying, “He’s here. Come down.” Within minutes, there was a knock on the door.
The woman went to answer the door. An elderly African-American woman came into the living room. She was soft and small, yet age had not diminished her beauty. She was wearing a lovely sweater set and a dress with nice heels. She gave Seth a polite smile and nodded to Claire.
“I can’t imagine you remember me,” the woman said. “It’s nice to see you all grown up.”
“You were R.J.’s uncle’s girlfriend . . .” Seth grinned at the woman. She looked at him expectantly. He cast around his brain for her name. “Billie?”
The woman grinned. She held out a hand, and Seth kissed the back of it.
“Did you two ever . . .” Billie asked with a sly look in her eyes.
Claire shook her head, and Seth blushed.
“Probably for the best,” Billie said. “I always thought you made better friends. I married R.J.’s uncle. His name was Stanley. He was a good man.”
Billie nodded sincerely.
“Took me from the life,” Billie said.
“‘The life’?” Seth asked.
Billie winked at Seth and went to sit down in an armchair. When he looked up, two other elderly women were standing in the entryway to the living room. The woman who lived in this apartment went around them to the kitchen.
“Find a seat,” the woman said from her kitchen.
“Seth, I’m Ruby,” the woman said in a brusque way.
Ruby looked trim, and her hand shake was strong. Her hair was short. She was wearing dress wool pants and a thick sweater. Her demeanor had an
air of the masculine that in modern times might be equated to being a lesbian. She gave Seth a warm smile.
“I remember,” Seth said. He kissed the back of her offered hand.
Ruby shook Claire’s hand and went to sit down on the couch. The next elderly woman just looked at Seth.
“If you don’t remember me, Seth O’Malley . . .” the woman wagged her finger at Seth.
“How could I forget you, Hazel?” Seth asked.
The woman held out her arms. Seth stood to hug her tight. Hazel was taller than the other two and beautiful enough to be a model. She was also wearing a nice dress and heels with a splash of delicately applied makeup. Hazel smiled and went to sit on the couch. They were just getting settled when there was a knock at the door.
“That’ll be Justine,” Hazel said. “She lives with Ruby.”
Ruby got up and went to answer the door.
“They don’t want to be seen coming in together,” Hazel said in a low tone.
A few minutes later, another elderly woman came into the living room. She stood on the edge and blinked at Seth and Claire. She was also fit, but a little smaller than Ruby. She was wearing jeans and a dress shirt. Her smile lit up the living room. Seth remembered listening to her laugh in the living room while he’d worked with Bud. Seth grinned at the woman.
“Oh, Lord,” she said. “I’d know you two anywhere.”
“Nice to see you, Justine,” Seth said.
The woman blushed. Ruby sat back down on the couch, and Justine went to sit between Ruby and Hazel. They were silent for a moment. The owner of the apartment rushed in from the kitchen.
“I have tea steeping,” the woman said.
“We’ll need the Hennessey by the end,” Ruby said.
The woman nodded and went to a cabinet. She opened a bottle of new bottle of Hennessey Cognac and set it on the coffee table. Ruby got the glasses and poured each of them an inch of the liquor. Seth pushed away his cognac.
“Sober,” Seth said simply.
The women acknowledged the wisdom of that with a series of nods and kind looks.
“I’m sure you don’t remember me, Seth,” the woman said. “That’s because we never met. I’m Louise.”
Seth stood up to shake their host’s hand.
“I worked for Di and then left for Detroit,” the woman said. “I worked as a car model there for almost twenty years. I came back to New York after the two of you left.”
The Cigarette Killer Page 15