The Chocolate Jewel Case: A Chocoholic Mystery
Page 20
“The guy we knew as Harold, the dullest guy on the lakeshore.”
“Later, yes.”
“I talked to Gina, Joe, and she’s convinced that Art really cared for her, that he was killed because he wanted to protect her.”
“There may be elements of truth in that. Harold needed Art’s expertise on antiques for the burglary gang he organized. And Lofty and Shorty say one reason Art was killed was that Harold became convinced he was hiding Gina. And Art must have been looking for Gina; at least, I can’t figure out any other reason for him to come by our house and make that crazy claim that he was my dad. He must have thought you’d tell Gina.”
“Maybe if I had, if they’d gotten together, then Art wouldn’t have been killed.”
“We’ll never know. But let’s remember that Art began by exploiting Gina’s knowledge.”
“So how did this lead to Harold Glick becoming our neighbor? Was it just because Warner Pier is a place with lots of wealthy families who own summer cottages—and antiques?”
“No, Underwood thinks Harold came because of the Diamonte collection.”
“But Harold moved over here six months ago, and the Garretts and the Golds hadn’t been at their cottage in years. How would anyone know that the collection would be making a stop here?”
“They read it in the Chicago Tribune.”
“Oh, come on! I read about the exhibit of the collection in the Trib, but it didn’t say anything about Warner Pier.”
“You didn’t read the article with the attitude of a thief, Lee. Underwood got hold of a copy this afternoon, and the story said that the Chicago show was a final exhibit of the collection as a whole, because it was to be auctioned off. Alex Gold was even quoted as saying the family was going to have a reunion so each member could select a piece to keep as a souvenir. Elsewhere in the article it mentioned the family’s longtime ties to Chicago and that they had a summer cottage on Lake Michigan.”
“That’s still a far-fetched deduction.”
“It gave Art a direction to steer Gina, and she was able to pick up gossip—quite innocently—and learn that the Garretts and Alex Gold were going to take over their summer cottage again and were planning to hold a family reunion there this summer.”
“Oh. So if anyone knew about Alex’s habit of carrying valuables . . .”
“Right. And Gina says lots of people in the antique business knew that Alex carried jewelry that way. In fact, Underwood told me plenty of jewelers carry valuables casually, just stick them in their pockets. They feel—maybe rightly—that it’s safer to do that than to make a big deal out of it.”
“Because a special bag or a bodyguard would attract attention.”
“That’s the idea. Anyway, six months ago Harold found a house to rent that was within walking distance of Double Diamond. And it had a handy-dandy barn for storing the gang’s loot from other burglaries.”
“I wonder if I mentioned that house to Gina.”
“Don’t worry about it. Harold had a plan that would have worked with any house he rented. He had definitely made the move from fence to become leader of the burglary ring. After he moved over here, he claimed to have been the victim of the burglars, assuming that would make him look innocent. Then all he had to do was walk Alice around the neighborhood every day, keeping an eye on the Double Diamond cottage until he saw it had been opened.”
“Meanwhile,” I said, “Lofty and Shorty had rented that ramshackle house up the river and were making themselves and their boat part of the scenery.”
“Right. Art hung back until he was needed. As I said, Art always liked to work alone. But he was definitely committed to the theft of the Diamonte collection, and he was going to need to fence the stones through Harold.”
“Then Gina figured out that Art was a thief and, even worse, that he’d been pumping her for information about potential victims.”
Joe nodded. “She pleaded with him, asked him to give up crime. Of course, she was talking to a guy who’d never earned an honest dollar in his life, so she didn’t have much of a chance at changing him. When she figured that out, she filed for divorce. Art took off.”
“Poor Gina,” I said. “Harold was looking for Art, so she was threatened by Lofty and Shorty.”
“That was when she called me and asked if I knew a private investigator. She was desperate to find Art, and she knew both of them were in danger.”
“And you didn’t tell me!”
“I didn’t know, Lee. All Gina told me was that she had some problem with her husband. I thought she was trying to catch him with another woman or to find hidden assets. It never occurred to me that he was a burglar! Luckily, I recommended Pete, and he does have experience in undercover criminal investigation.”
“How did your mom get involved with Pete?”
“About a month ago she realized that the rumors about the burglaries were affecting her agency. So she asked me about a private detective, too. By then I knew that Pete was looking into the burglaries, though I didn’t know he was doing it for Gina. So I suggested Mom call him. Pete saw the connection right away and began working with the insurance companies.”
“How did Darrell fit in?”
“Only on the periphery. Pete was one of the group who had worked to get Darrell released. Those guys were still keeping an eye on him, making sure he had a place to live and wasn’t too lonely. So Pete pumped Darrell for prison gossip about Haney—Harold—when he was trying to find Art. Darrell was eager to return the favors Pete had done for him and asked more questions than he should have. That had two results. First, he heard that Tallboy and Small—Lofty and Shorty—were looking for Art. Second, Lofty and Shorty heard that Darrell had been asking questions, and all of a sudden Detroit was too hot for Darrell.”
“So that’s why you suddenly decided you needed a helper for the summer.”
“Pete called me, Lee. I couldn’t say no. But at that time it didn’t occur to me or to Pete that the burglary gang was already in place—right in our backyard.”
“How did Pete get hurt? I never have understood that.”
Joe laughed. “He fell out of the loft in Harold’s barn. He’ll never live it down.”
“What was he doing in the loft of Harold’s barn?”
“When you called us away from our pizza to tell us that Lofty and Shorty had been lying in wait for you at the house, Pete, Darrell, and I all took off at top speed. But Pete already had ID’d Harold as George Haney, though he hadn’t seen fit to share that information with any of us. So while Darrell and I went to make sure you were okay, Pete went to Harold’s to see if Lofty and Shorty had gone there. They had. The three of them were talking in the barn, and when they drove off, Harold left the door standing ajar. Pete couldn’t resist. He slid inside to see what was there.”
“And he found the U-Haul truck.”
“Right. It hadn’t been loaded then. Harold came back, and good old athletic Pete hid by climbing into the rafters. Unfortunately, one rafter wouldn’t hold him. It broke, and he tumbled down right at Harold’s feet.”
“Pete had his pistol! Or, at least, it wasn’t in his stuff on the porch. I’m surprised he didn’t plug Harold.”
“Pete apparently managed to land on his head and his leg at the same time. He was unconscious after the fall.”
“He probably landed on his leg and banged his head on the truck.”
“That’s more logical. Pete thinks he was out cold for at least fifteen or twenty minutes. When he came to, Harold had taken his pistol and locked him in.”
“He apparently intended to kill Pete. Why didn’t he do it then? Lofty and Shorty are claiming Harold stabbed Art, right? So he’s cold-blooded enough to kill.”
“Right. But it was easy to dispose of Art’s body. He was killed in the boat, so they stripped his burglar outfit off and threw him in the river. Pete was different. Harold couldn’t leave until the next day, so he would have been stuck with a dead body for twelve to eighteen hours,
and he didn’t know if Pete had told anybody where he was going. Pete was smart enough to pretend to be unconscious or groggy whenever Harold came around.”
“And Harold didn’t think Pete could get out of the barn.”
“If Pete had been in tip-top shape, he could have gotten out. He would have kicked the doors and popped that padlock right off. But with only a window too small to get out and just one usable leg . . .” Joe shrugged. “You definitely saved his life, Lee.”
“Pete told me to go call the police, but when I heard Harold say he was going for gasoline . . .” I shuddered. “It’s not far to the Shell station. I thought we had only ten or fifteen minutes to get him out.”
Joe pulled me close. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too, Joe.” I kissed him on the ear. “And I want to remind you that Brenda will be back the day after tomorrow.”
“I’m aware of that, and I have a surprise for you.”
Joe took me by the hand and led me into the bedroom. In an inconspicuous corner behind the dresser was a machine I’d never seen before.
“It’s a present from Pete,” he said. “A little thank-you for saving his life.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a portable air conditioner. You can use it in any room without installing it.”
“Turn it on! Quick!”
The air conditioner works great. Or it did for a few hours. At two a.m. the next morning a cold front came through. The lakeshore temperatures dropped into the low fifties, and we didn’t need an air conditioner the rest of the summer.
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About the Author
JOANNA CARL is the pseudonym of a multipublished mystery writer. She spent more than twenty-five years in the newspaper business, working as a reporter, feature writer, editor, and columnist. She holds a degree in journalism from the University of Oklahoma and also studied in the OU Professional Writing Program. She lives in Oklahoma but spends much of each summer at a cottage on Lake Michigan near several communities similar to the fictional town of Warner Pier. She may be reached through her Web site at www.joannacarl.com.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Praise
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
About the Author
Also by JoAnna Carl