by A W Hartoin
“What do you mean?”
“He came to the mansion with Ace.”
Grandma sat back stunned. “Really? Why?”
“I don’t know. I came home after they’d left and Millicent mentioned it. Remember, we had a couple of break-ins and Ace worked those. I think Elijah came by for old time’s sake.”
And that’s not all.
An hour and a half later, Grandma and I were curled up in bed with Moe in the armchair with Moonstruck started on the TV. Novak had downloaded the movie for us and Grandma was all excited to show it to me.
“Why are you so interested in Elijah all the sudden?” she asked, surprising me. I’d begun to think she wasn’t paying much attention to what I was asking.
“My life is all wrapped up with the Bleds. I want to know where it began.”
“I guess it was with Elijah. I never knew that, but it makes sense that he would’ve been wonderful at such a terrible time. I told you how beloved he was.”
For more than one reason.
“You did.”
“I’ll have to ask Ace about it,” she said.
“Shush,” said Moe. “It’s starting.”
We shushed and it was starting.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Stuttgart Hauptbahnhof was frigid the next morning and I couldn’t get inside fast enough. Unfortunately, Novak was no hurry. I think he’d been planning on ditching his train to Paris and going somewhere else, anywhere else than to his waiting mother, who planned to be in Gare de l’Est to pick him up.
“Why are you walking so fast?” he asked as he crept through the impressive main hall of the station with its 1930s architecture intact. He kept trying to divert to McDonald’s or a pretzel seller or the enormous Christmas tree set up in the center of the hall. Novak acted like he’d never seen a Christmas tree before. Give me a break.
“Your train leaves in ten minutes,” I said. “If you wouldn’t have been so slow before we wouldn’t have to rush now.”
“I didn’t need such an early train,” he said.
“Yes, you do and so do we,” said Grandma. “Aaron’s culinary class is second period at the high school and this is the only direct.”
“You could’ve dropped me off.”
“Fat chance.” I got behind him and steered him out the door to the platforms where it was significantly colder. “You’re trying to get on the wrong train.”
“Wrong is relative,” said Novak.
“Not in this case,” said Grandma. “I promised your mother.”
“You promised.”
Grandma took his arm. “Mother to mother. It’s a done deal. Now stop your whining.”
“I’m not whining.”
“He said in a whine,” I said. “Let’s see you’re on track—”
“Seven,” Novak said.
Nice try.
“Thirteen,” I said. “They changed it.”
He muttered something in what I presumed was Serbian and we frog-marched him down to the correct track.
“Here we go. First class,” said Grandma. “You’ll be well looked after.”
Novak made a great show of hugging us and I had to smile at his last desperate try. He didn’t know my grandmother. Granted, I didn’t know her that well either, but I was getting the picture.
Janine Watts pushed Novak, the six two hacker, onboard and followed him right on.
Startled, Novak said, “You don’t have to—”
“Hush up. I wasn’t born yesterday.” Grandma steered him left into his car and I could hear the bickering as they put his luggage on the rack.
Moe laughed. “That woman. He’s no match.”
“He really thought he could go in one door and get out another without us noticing,” I said.
We walked down to look in the windows to see Grandma physically push Novak into a seat, buttonhole a porter, and give him a good talking to about his passenger’s condition. The chances for escape were nil. “He was going to give it the old college try.”
“He doesn’t know us Watts at all,” I said.
“Especially, since you’re not Watts,” said Moe.
I gave him the side-eye and asked, “What are you talking about?”
“All that stuff about Elijah Watts and the mansion last night. Who knew who? When did they know who? Janine hasn’t figured it out yet, but she will. She’s sharp and it won’t take long.”
I watched Grandma tip the porter, kiss the top of Novak’s head, and hustle toward the exit as the warning buzzer went off. “I’m interested in family history. That’s all.”
“Fats told me about the Bled stuff.”
Dammit.
“She had no right to tell you anything,” I said.
Moe took my arm and kept his eyes searching the crowd. “I needed to know all the information. You’re more than you appear, so the threats are too.”
“Don’t say anything to Grandma.”
“I won’t, but you’ll have to.”
Grandma stepped off the train a second ahead of the final warning and the doors started to close. A portly man came running down the platform and banged on the door as it locked tight. He cursed in French and banged on it in frustration.
“Too late, my man,” said Moe under his breath.
“So irritating to miss the fast one,” said Grandma.
The man kept yelling as the train jolted and started moving. I turned my gaze back to Novak’s window. His corn-rowed head was still in place, not looking at us, but with a jolt, I realized someone else was. A man was standing up and leaning over the next row of seats, looking straight at me. Our eyes met and he jerked back. The train moved him away out of the station and I was running alongside. Me and the old guy. He was still banging on the side. I was trying to look in that window. Dark hair. Handsome. Tall. Well-dressed. Gone.
Moe caught up to me. “What on Earth are you doing?”
“He was on the train.” I bent over panting.
“Who?”
“Him. The one that pushed Novak.”
Moe looked back at the disappearing last car and said, “How do you know that?”
“He was looking out at me. He saw me. It was him.”
Grandma came up and Moe told her what I said. “But Mercy, you don’t know what he looks like. It could’ve been a fan or God help us a stalker.”
“No. I saw the way he looked at me. He was shocked in a bad way, afraid and angry. I know that look. It was him.”
“Son of a...” Moe trailed off. “He got away.”
“Novak’s on that train with him,” said Grandma, frantically reaching for her phone.
“It’s fine,” I said. “It was never about Novak. He was going for an empty room to search for what we know.”
“Still. We have to tell him,” said Moe.
I called Novak and told him who his traveling companion was. He said it was almost worth the trip.
“Can you see him?” I asked.
“No. He’s left the car,” said Novak.
“Naturally. It can’t be easy.”
“Oh, it’s easy. I’ve got money and Janine made friends with the porter. I will get it done.”
“Pictures would be ideal,” I said.
“How about a name?”
“I assume that will be fake.”
“He’s not a genius,” said Novak. “You never know.”
We hung up and I shivered.
Grandma took my arm and snugged me up to her side. “Are you upset?”
“I think I’m shocked.”
“Well, he can’t get off that train,” said Moe. “No stops.”
I nodded. “We’ll need a tail in Gare de l’Est.”
“Come on,” she said. “We have three and a half hours to arrange it. Novak has friends. It will get done.”
“I hope he doesn’t try to do it,” said Moe.
“That man is not the action type,” I said. “Besides, his mom will be there.”
“Thank goodness for that,” said Grandm
a. “Let’s get out of here. Aaron is waiting. I hope they didn’t make him move.”
The Polizei hadn’t made Aaron move out of the drop off spot, but they were trying. If I had to guess, his oddity worked in our favor. They’d talk and he’d act like he didn’t know what was going on. He might get arrested on suspicion of being on mind-altering substances, but they wouldn’t get him to move.
“Here we go,” said Moe. “Better hurry.”
A Polizei moved to the driver’s side of the Mercedes and reached for the door. Grandma sprang into action. She dashed over, talking a mile a minute about Aaron and parking and the trains and who knows what all.
The Polizei ended up holding his hands up against the barrage from a little old lady and eventually started smiling. Aaron got a pass and the Polizei opened my door for me.
“Merci. Salut,” I said, beaming a smile at him and I got a surprised look in return as he recognized me or at least recognized Marilyn. Grandma had had her way with my makeup again. I was quickly learning not to fight it. Or…
“Was that French again?” I asked Moe as he got in the back with me.
“What do you think?”
“For crying out loud. I need an MRI or something.”
“You’re fine,” he said. “He didn’t even notice. Too busy looking.”
“That’s the good shock. Not like the guy on the train. Totally different,” I said.
“I believe you.” He checked his watch. “Will Spidermonkey be awake?”
“Maybe, if he’s on a roll with the financial trail.”
Grandma turned in her seat and said, “Call him. He’d want to know about that man on the train.”
I was reluctant to wake up my elderly hacker, but Grandma was right. Spidermonkey would want to know. I called and he answered on the first ring.
“Great minds think alike,” he said.
“In this case, a great mind and a so-so one,” I said. “What’s up, Oh Mighty One?”
Spidermonkey chuckled and then got somber in a flash. “I got through it all. Well, almost all of it.”
“And?”
“She was robbed.”
“We know that,” I said.
“No. Madison was robbed,” he said.
I sat back and pulled off the poofball hat Grandma had allowed me to wear under duress. “How? What? Who robbed her?”
“I should’ve seen it instantly, but it looked legit.”
Spidermonkey explained that one of the massive issues with cyber currency was that it was cyber, which sounds kinda stupid, but there’s no physical building you can go to about your money. It’s all online. You can follow a solid recommendation for a company, a good reputable company, and end up on an imposter site. Madison clicked a bad link, deposited her money, and it was gone. Stolen.
The fake site gave stats for her account for a few days and then claimed a sudden drop in the market made her investment worthless. Madison had sent frantic emails about the money and got automated responses saying that there was a warning before she made her investment that nothing was guaranteed.
“She was pretty hysterical,” he said.
“I bet. Excuse me while I fail to weep for her,” I said.
“You might find this interesting. In her third email, she says ‘This was my mom’s money for retirement. Please help me figure out what to do.’”
“Her mom’s money that she stole.”
“It is, but it got me thinking,” said Spidermonkey.
“It’s got me thinking she’s a piece of crap,” I said.
Moe muttered, “No doubt.”
“Hear me out. I got to wondering where she got this site. Madison isn’t exactly a savvy investor. Her mother did everything with the 529 plan. I can’t find that Madison did anything with it. Lisa took the money out to pay the tuition and books. Madison never even went in and checked the amount or funds allocation.”
“So?”
“So where’d that girl get this bitcoin idea in the first place?”
“The boyfriend,” I said. “Has to be.”
“That’s my thought. Handsome, successful older man says invest here. He tells her she’ll make a mint so she steals her mother’s money and does it.”
I balled up my hat and unclenched my jaw. “Did she research sites at all?”
Spidermonkey made an approving noise, the kind I loved getting. “I wondered that, too, and the answer is no. She didn’t look at any other sites. She went straight to the imposter site. He gave it to her.” Spidermonkey explained that the legit site had normal spelling in the URL and the fake one had slang. Think Litcoin instead of Litecoin. That kind of thing. I could totally see how it happened and how he covered himself. If she happened to catch on that it wasn’t a legit site by some miracle, he could easily say it was a mistake. He said the right name. She misheard. It wasn’t his fault she did it wrong.”
“I can’t believe it. The boyfriend stole Lisa’s money from Madison,” I said. “Hello, karma.”
“Yes, but I have a feeling it’s not that simple.”
“You think she’s an innocent little flower that got taken advantage of?” I asked. “Oh, come on. She went through some hoops to get that money. It wasn’t an accident.”
“There’s more to the story,” said Spidermonkey. “I get feelings, too.”
“Granted, but in the end there’s no excuse and when the money was gone she blackmailed Anton,” I said.
“I know that, but I think the boyfriend was the driving force. It comes back to him.”
“More to the story? Puhlease. You old softy.”
“Speaking of more to the story,” he said. “Can you talk?”
I glanced at Grandma chatting away to Aaron about menu planning and getting an explanation of what mochi is. I guess the kids would be making mochi.
“I think so,” I said as Grandma inquired about the right kind of rice for mochi. I knew from experience with Aaron this wouldn’t be a short conversation nor a simple one.
“I got a chance to look into those records you were interested in,” said Spidermonkey.
“You have been busy.”
Moe raised an eyebrow at me and I gave him a hold on look.
“You nailed it. Giséle Donadieu was arrested in November 1910.”
I couldn’t believe it. Too crazy. I was right. “How in the world did you find that out? It’s not like it’s online.”
“There was a newspaper article on said arrest.”
“There was a whole article on it? What did she do? Break down the door or something?” I asked.
“She returned several times to each of the Bled houses trying to get them to talk to her. She was refused and they finally called the cops,” said Spidermonkey.
“What did they charge her with? Tell me it wasn’t anything to do with prostitution.”
“It wasn’t. The charge was harassment. The article said she wanted a job at the brewery and was denied.”
“That’s not so bad,” I said. “She didn’t go to jail, did she?”
“There were no articles after the fact and the original was just a little paragraph. It would never have made the paper if it hadn’t been for the Bled involvement.”
“So we don’t know what happened?”
“Of course, we do,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t you know me at all?”
“I take it back,” I said. “But how did you figure it out?”
“Pretty sure the charges were dropped.”
“Why? Harassing the Bleds had to be a thing,” I said.
“Since she married the arresting officer a few weeks later, I’m sure she got off easy.”
“No way.”
“I figured that was how she met Thomas, but I didn’t think it would be that easy.”
“Kind of romantic in a way,” I said. “And they lived happily ever after.”
“It looks that way.”
Grandma turned in her seat. “What’s romantic?”
“How Madison’s boyf
riend turned on the charm,” I said. “She didn’t stand a chance.”
She ground a fist in her palm. “Just wait till we get ahold of him.”
“Very threatening, Janine,” said Moe with a smile and I have to admit she was pretty adorable when she said it, not a bit threatening.
“I was trained in weaponry. I’m a crack shot.”
“You are a woman after my own heart.”
“You’re such a naughty boy, Moe Licata,” said Grandma.
“Getting nauseous,” I said. “Aaron food. What are we having?”
Aaron started in on choices of pork for sausage. Not scintillating to me, but Grandma was literally taking notes. God knows why. There wasn’t going to be a quiz after.
“Are you still there?” Spidermonkey asked.
“Yeah, just having a bit of an issue with the old folks,” I said.
“Who are you calling old folks?” Moe asked.
“You were in Vietnam for crying out loud. You’re no spring chicken.”
He wasn’t impressed with my logic, but I got a laugh out of Spidermonkey.
“Anything else for me?” I asked.
“Thomas was married once before and as you suggested I think he was infertile. Twelve years married. No kids. Her name was Mary and died when she got hit by a streetcar.”
“Well, that’s terrible.”
“It was and it happened five years before Giséle turned up on the scene,” said Spidermonkey. “I think he and that beautiful young French woman came to an arrangement.”
“That sounds bad,” I said. “Like she had to do it.”
“There weren’t a lot of options for ladies in her predicament, but I prefer to think it worked out for both of them. He got a son and she got status that no out of wedlock mother would’ve gotten. From how Elijah turned out, it was a happy life. Thomas certainly didn’t control Gladys with her going into business and doing charity work. I read her as independent.”
“I hope you’re right. Anything on the…um…background?” I didn’t want to say anything about France in case Grandma suddenly dialed in.
“So far, a dead end. Her passage says Paris as does her paperwork at Ellis Island, but I’m not seeing anything with the right particulars in Paris.”
“There’s no hurry on this stuff,” I said.
He yawned and then said, “I almost forgot. Your timeline is getting tight.”