by Marie Astor
“I’m not the one doing the fighting, or should I say pushing?” Dennis pouted like a five-year-old.
“I said I was sorry. I’d be glad to show you how to counter the move I used to knock you down,” Tina offered.
“You would?” Dennis sounded genuinely interested.
“Of course I would,” Tina replied. “I’m not here to show you or anyone up—I’m here to share my knowledge with you.”
Dennis rubbed his jaw. “Any chance you might be willing to switch roles for the next class?”
“Meaning?” Tina asked.
“You’ll be the one lying prostrate on the floor for the entire office to gawk at,” Dennis clarified.
Tina smirked. “Gladly. But on one condition—you have to get all the moves right. Which means, you’ll have to actually listen to my instructions instead of making snickering comments.”
“So I see you have excellent hearing as well as reflexes,” Dennis observed.
“I think everyone in the room heard your ridiculous comments,” Tina pointed out.
“I’m sorry about that. I honestly didn’t think anyone would hear me,” Dennis said. “I thought they’d be too busy watching you.”
“I’m pretty sure they heard,” Tina countered. “I did at any rate.”
“You were whispering kind of loudly,” Janet pointed out.
“I’m sorry. That was childish of me.” Dennis sighed. “I guess now is as good a time as any for me to admit that I was a little bit intimidated by you. I didn’t mean to be such a jerk.”
“Apology accepted.” Tina smiled. “Friends?” she offered her hand.
“We’re still on for that thing I mentioned?” Dennis asked, keeping his hand back.
“Dennis, if you get the moves right, I’ll be happy for you to land me on my back,” Tina said.
“Friends.” Dennis shook her hand. “Now, I’m sorry, but Janet and I really have to go. I made this reservation a month ago and I don’t want us to lose the table.”
“Have a great night. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Tina moved to leave.
“Yes you will. How about lunch tomorrow for you to show me the moves?” Dennis asked. “I’ll reserve the conference room.”
Tina nodded. “Sounds good. Looking forward to it.”
Ten minutes later Janet and Dennis left the office and were seated in a cab, on their way to LaVerne.
“I’m really glad you patched it up with Tina,” Janet said. “I know it couldn’t have been easy.”
Dennis shrugged. “Ham’s right. She’s good at what she does. It galls me to say it, but she’s good. So I’ll take the next best thing—I’ll get her to show me her tricks. Who knows, it might come in handy.”
“You don’t say—in our line of work?” Janet nudged him. “And by the way, I think it’s super romantic that you made a reservation at LaVerne even before we left for our honeymoon.”
“Darn it, now you know my secret. Superhero no more.”
“You’ll always be a superhero to me.” Janet sidled closer to him. “My husband.”
Chapter 5
“That was delicious,” Dennis said as he and Janet were approaching their building after their dinner at LaVerne.
“It was really good.” Janet weaved her arm through Dennis’s. “And very romantic. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”
“Only the best for my beautiful wife. Although I must say, we might not go back there for a while.”
“And why is that?”
“A man can’t pack away a meal like that and be in training.”
“In training?”
“Have you forgotten? I was serious about that deal with Tina. I’ll have to get back to the gym if I’m ever to stand a chance against her.”
Janet stifled a sigh. At least Dennis was focused on training now instead of fighting with Tina—it was an improvement, of sorts.
“And after tonight no drinking for a month,” Dennis said resolutely. “I need to be light on my feet.
“Sounds like a plan.” Janet nodded, wondering how Dennis was going to do without his Guinness every Thursday night.
“Well, maybe a beer now and then, but nothing more than that. Guinness has very few calories.”
“I’m sure a glass of beer won’t derail your training,” Janet said, barely keeping a straight face. That was the thing with Dennis—whenever he put his mind to something, he went all in.
They reached their building. “The doorman is temporarily away,” Dennis read the note posted on the door. “I hate when they do these things. It’s not safe leaving the entrance unattended.”
“Even doormen have to go to the bathroom.”
“Yes, but they could work in pairs. The building is too cheap and is skimping on staff. Anyone could get in when the doorman is away.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, the lobby door is locked.” Janet fished out her key and unlocked the door.
“This thing? Anyone can pick this lock.”
“Well, then, it’ll be good when you get Tina’s moves down—you’ll be able to apprehend intruders,” Janet pointed out as they walked through the lobby and stood waiting for the elevator.
“I can do that now. I don’t need Tina to show me how to defend myself. I need to get Tina to show me how to defend myself from Tina,” Dennis retorted as they got into the elevator.
“Boy, I’m tired.” Janet yawned as they got out of the elevator on their floor. “I’m so glad we don’t have to walk Baxter tonight. Mrs. Chapman is an angel—”
“Shhhhhhhhh,” Dennis whispered, raising his hand as they approached their apartment.
“What is it?”
Dennis pressed his finger to his lips and pointed at their apartment door, which had been left ajar.
Janet shrugged. “Mrs. Chapman must’ve forgotten to lock it—”
Just then there was a cry and loud barking. A sound of scampering feet followed and then the door was swung open and a man appeared, charging right at them. It all seemed a blur, as the male figure shoved past them, nearly knocking Janet off her feet. Dennis tried to block the intruder, but he kicked him in the shin and bolted for the exit stairs. Dennis cursed under his breath and, ignoring the pain, ran for the staircase entrance.
“Dennis, wait—” Janet cried out, her head spinning.
“I’m going after him!” Dennis shouted over his shoulder as he started to run down the staircase.
“Janet, is that you, dearie?” Mrs. Chapman’s voice carried through the door.
“Mrs. Chapman? Are you okay?” Janet hurried inside the apartment.
“In here, dearie.” Mrs. Chapman’s voice called from the living room.
“Mrs. Chapman, what happened?” Janet asked, as she took in the surroundings.
Mrs. Chapman was sitting on the couch, clutching her head. Baxter was on the floor, growling, sitting next to the seascape painting, which had fallen on the floor.
“Oh, Janet, my dear, I’m so glad you’re all right!” Mrs. Chapman exclaimed. “It was the most terrible thing—”
Janet rushed over to Mrs. Chapman. “Are you hurt? I’m going to call 911.”
“I’m fine. No need to make a fuss. Is Baxter okay?”
Janet kneeled by Baxter’s side. He was still hovering over the painting, growling protectively.
“Baxter, baby, are you okay?” Janet asked, noticing that Baxter had something in his mouth.
At the sound of Janet’s voice Baxter stopped growling and scampered closer to her. He whimpered loudly, as though eager to tell her something.
“Baxter, what happened? What have you got in your mouth there?” Janet slowly reached for Baxter’s mouth, but he tensed up, growling. “Can you let me see?” she asked, as she carefully tried again. She could tell it was a piece of material of some kind, but Baxter would not budge as his teeth remained shut.
“I think I know just the thing,” Janet said, getting up from the floor. She returned with a piece of dog beef jerky. “How about a tr
eat?” She wagged the treat before Baxter’s nose.
Unable to resist, Baxter opened his mouth for the treat and Janet quickly snatched the piece of cloth from him.
“Looks like Baxter’s got a piece of the burglar’s pants,” Mrs. Chapman observed from the couch.
“Can you tell me what happened? We saw a man run out of the apartment—” Janet broke off. “What am I thinking? Forgive me. Let me get you some water first. Are you sure you don’t want me to call a doctor?”
“I’m sure. And if you have something stronger than water—a drop of that cognac we had the other day?”
“Just a minute.” Janet got up and grabbed a snifter glass from the cupboard. She then grabbed the bottle of cognac and poured a generous drink. “Here you are, Mrs. Chapman.”
“You’re not going to have any?” Mrs. Chapman asked as she took the glass from Janet.
“I think I’m okay for now. Maybe later.”
Mrs. Chapman took a long sip. “Mmm, much better now.”
“Take your time, Mrs. Chapman. Don’t rush.” Janet stole a glance at her watch, wondering where on earth Dennis was.
Just then there was a sound of the front door opening. “Janet, are you okay?” Dennis’s voice carried from the foyer.
“I’m fine,” Janet called back. “Mrs. Chapman is all right too and so is Baxter.”
A few moments later Dennis was in the living room. He was visibly out of breath.
“Thank goodness you’re not hurt!” Janet rushed over to him.
“Did you get him, Dennis?” Mrs. Chapman asked.
Dennis shook his head. “He was way too fast,” he panted. “I tried, but he got away. I called the police. They’ll be here soon.”
Janet slapped her forehead. “The police! I was going to call 911 and I forgot all about it.”
“I don’t think they’ll be much help since we don’t even know what the guy looks like. He had a mask on. Unless Mrs. Chapman got a look at him?” Dennis asked.
“I wish I had, but he had the mask on the entire time.” Mrs. Chapman shivered. “I feel like I’m inside a detective movie—just like Miss Fisher,” she added naming her favorite TV series.
“Dennis, sit down and catch your breath.” Janet guided him over to the couch. “Let me get you some water.”
“I’ll take what Mrs. Chapman is having,” Dennis said, noticing the bottle of cognac on the reading table.
Janet went to get two more snifter glasses—the way things were going she could use a drink herself—and a large glass of water for Dennis.
“Drink this first,” she said, handing Dennis the water. Then she poured two cognacs for herself and Dennis and refilled Mrs. Chapman’s glass.
“Much better.” Dennis put down the empty water glass. “I think I’m ready for the cognac now.”
Janet handed him the glass. “Mrs. Chapman was just about to tell me what happened when you walked in.”
“I’m sorry for the interruption,” Dennis said.
“Nonsense.” Mrs. Chapman waved her glass. “I’m not sure how much help my story is going to be anyway. It’s all starting to feel like a bit of a blur now, but I’ll do my best to tell you everything as it happened. Let me start from the beginning. I took Baxter for his evening walk and fed him when we returned. Then I remembered that I had forgotten my knitting, and I went back to my apartment to get it. Mind you, I made sure to lock the door when I left—I’m sure of it. When I came back, I was surprised to see that the door was cracked open. For a moment I thought that I had lost my marbles and left it like that, but I was sure I didn’t. I should’ve called the police right then, but then I heard Baxter bark and I rushed inside. I grabbed Dennis’s baseball bat from the foyer closet—I remembered you always kept it there—and went inside.” Mrs. Chapman took another swallow of her cognac, draining her glass.
Dennis shook his head. “A baseball bat? What were you going to do, Mrs. Chapman?”
“Dennis, I have no idea,” Mrs. Chapman confessed. “I was just following my instincts, as silly as they were.”
Janet got up and refilled Mrs. Chapman’s glass. “There you are, Mrs. Chapman.”
“Thank you, dear. So I hurry inside and imagine my shock when I see a man inside the apartment! He had his back to me, but I could tell he was young. He was about five nine and very lean, almost too skinny. He was dressed in everything black: black pants, black jacket, and a black ski mask on his face. Oh, and his pants were real tight—the way they wear them these days. I never understood it. Anyways, I wanted to scream bloody murder when I saw him, but somehow my voice wouldn’t budge and my tongue seemed to be glued to the back of my throat. So for a few moments he didn’t see me—his back was toward me and he was too busy reaching for the painting to take it off the wall—”
“What painting?” Dennis asked. “We don’t own any valuable paintings.”
“The one you brought from your honeymoon,” Mrs. Chapman explained.
“I completely forgot—I saw it lying on the floor when I first walked in. It’s still there—he must’ve dropped it,” Janet added.
Mrs. Chapman nodded, smiling. “Drop it he did. Unlike me, Baxter here didn’t lose his cool. He was barking and growling, but the burglar ignored him. When he reached for the painting, Baxter bit his leg and wouldn’t let go. But I guess it was only the trouser cloth because if Baxter had gotten his shin, he would’ve been bawling like a baby.” Mrs. Chapman paused to take another sip of her drink. “That’s when I finally regained my senses, although now that I think about it, I wasn’t sensible at all. But I did the first thing that came to mind. I gripped the baseball bat and swat at the bugger—”
“You did what?” Janet exclaimed.
“I swat the bastard. I was aiming for his head, but I’m too short, so I only got his shoulder and my swing wasn’t enough to make an impact. Still, it was enough for him to realize I was there. I think he was more scared than I was when he saw me. He cursed something inaudible and pushed me. It wasn’t much of a push, but it was enough to land me on the floor. He grabbed the painting and started making for the door. But Baxter wouldn’t let up. This time he must’ve gotten to the bastard’s shin because he screamed for dear life and dropped the painting. Then we heard your voices and he bolted for the door.” Mrs. Chapman took a deep breath. “There. I think that’s the whole story.”
“You’re a very brave woman, Mrs. Chapman. But please promise us not to fight intruders next time—just call the police. They’ll take care of it.”
Mrs. Chapman shrugged. “Fiddlesticks. The police can’t find their own nose with both their hands. I remember when my late husband got mugged and they never found who did it. Made a big deal out of writing it all down and filing a report. And then a big, fat nothing. A lot of good it did us.”
“Well, it’s not easy to find someone in a big city like New York,” Janet offered.
“I know it was hard to think straight at the time— But please, Mrs. Chapman, in the future, leave the criminals to the police,” Dennis added.
“I’m not as frail as I look,” Mrs. Chapman bristled.
“Of course not. You’re very brave,” Janet assured her. “I would’ve been scared out of my mind. I wonder why was he trying to steal our painting?” Janet got off the couch and kneeled on the floor to pick up the painting.
“Probably some crazy drug addict, eager to get his hands on any kind of cash,” Mrs. Chapman suggested. “He definitely didn’t act like an experienced burglar. He seemed really scared and unsure of himself. Looked like it was the first time he tried to rob an apartment. And I hope Baxter here taught him his lesson. Check the rest of the apartment to make sure there isn’t anything else that’s missing, but I doubt he had time to get his hands on anything else.”
“We don’t keep any valuables in the apartment. Just some petty cash,” Dennis said thoughtfully. “But something doesn’t add up—he must’ve timed his entrance with the doorman’s absence, which meant he had to have been sco
ping out the place. And then he got inside our apartment when you were away—he must’ve thought you left for the night. He’d planned everything right. He just couldn’t execute it.”
“Oh, no!” Janet exclaimed.
“What is it?” Dennis nearly jumped.
“Sorry for scaring everyone,” Janet apologized. “It’s nerves. The frame on the painting cracked. Such a shame—it was so lovely.” She held up the painting where the frame was banged up in the corner where it must’ve hit the floor.
“That should be easy to fix,” Dennis said. “There’s a gallery close to the office and I’ll take it over there tomorrow. And you know what? I bet they could help us with the appraisal also. I’m starting to get awfully curious about this painting.”
Chapter 6
“You’re both looking very chipper this morning,” Laskin greeted Janet and Dennis as he hovered in their office doorway.
“If you had the night Janet and I had, you’d be looking much worse,” Dennis shot back.
Laskin rubbed his hands together as he made his way inside the office. “What’s that I hear—an intrigue? Sounds exciting.”
“Actually it’s more scary than exciting,” Janet said. “Last night someone broke into our apartment.”
Laskin’s face turned serious. “Are you all right?”
Dennis waved his hand. “We’re fine. But we had to stay up till midnight to file the report with the police. I think Mrs. Chapman was right after all—they’re only good at filing paperwork.”
Laskin shook his head. “One thing at a time. Mrs. Chapman?”
“Mrs. Chapman is our neighbor. She was watching Baxter last night,” Janet explained. “Then we got home from dinner and Dennis noticed that the front door was left open—” Janet gave a quick summary of everything that happened the night before. She tried to be as quick and factual as possible, but it still took a good ten minutes to tell the whole story.
“Whew!” Laskin whistled when Janet finished her story. “This is something. I must say, I would’ve been scared witless.”