Ethics of a Thief

by Hinrichsen, Mary Gale

  Her eyes were as round as her face. “Are the grandchildren okay? Did something happen to Lisa or Danny?”

  “They’re fine. Mother, please, come sit.”

  “You’re scaring me, Son.” She wobbled toward the table, pulled out a chair and sat. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

  “We just got a call from the police department.”

  “Did something happen to Abigail or Alisa? What happened?” Tears started to well in her eyes. “Oh my God, what happened?”

  Steven told her about the car accident, Alisa’s coma and David’s death.

  “But, that can’t be. We just talked last night. Everything seemed fine. My God. How could she be in a coma? That’s not possible -- it can’t be so. When, Steven?”

  “Today, late morning. The sergeant said it happened around eleven.”

  His heart hurt to see his mother’s anguish. At the same time, he felt guilty for being glad it wasn’t Alisa who died. He wondered if his mother was having the same thoughts.

  Tears streamed down her face. Steven stood and walked behind her to embrace her.

  “I just can’t believe this. David’s dead? Does his mother know?”

  “The sergeant asked for her phone number, so I doubt she was notified. I’ll call the police department later with her number.”

  Quickly, she stood. “Does Dad know?” Steven nodded. Elizabeth staggered into the living room weeping. “John. I can’t believe our Alisa is in a coma.” She knelt on the floor before him and placed her head on his lap as she cried. He patted her head without speaking. His tears ran down his cheeks as he listened to his wife sob.

  Not knowing what to do to help, Steven decided to find his mother’s personal phonebook. First, he checked their bedroom without luck. Then, he looked in the living room and saw it on a table. He looked up the number for David’s mother, wrote it down, went into the kitchen and called the police department.

  When he returned to his parents, he said, “I called the police. David’s family was notified. So, I called David’s brother, Bruce. He said his mother didn’t know yet. She’s still at work.”

  Elizabeth got up and walked to the phone, called and spoke to her pastor. “This is Elizabeth Wilson.” Silence. “Not good.” Tears fell as she told the man what happened. “Please ask our church family to pray for Alisa and David’s family.” Silence. “Thank you.” She placed the phone back in its cradle.

  Next, she phoned the hospital. Steven stood by his mother’s side during her short conversation. She hung up. “There’s no change in Alisa’s condition.” Her sad eyes glanced at her son. “The doctor on duty will call back within an hour.”

  For the first time, Steven knew what it felt like to be powerless.

  When they returned to the living room, Elizabeth paced. “Were there any other cars involved? What did the policeman say?”

  “The sergeant didn’t give me any details.”

  John looked down at his hands. “All I know is they were in a taxi. Bad weather. The driver hit his breaks. They saw the skid marks. Apparently, the driver lost control, and they rolled down a mountain.”

  They sat in silence.

  “Mom, when I spoke with Bruce, he said he didn’t want to be alone when his mother heard about David. He was crying. He asked if we would go over before she gets home.” He searched his mother’s eyes.

  “I’m not sure. John, are you up to that? I don’t want to leave you home alone. Do you think you can make it?” She turned to her son. “What time is Ruth expected home?”

  “Around five-thirty.”

  “John, what do you think? Want to go?”

  “I can’t be alone right now.” He stood and slowly walked toward the hall.

  Elizabeth called Bruce and told him how deeply sorry she was to hear about David. She said they would be there by five o’clock with dinner. Before hanging up, she said, “You must be crushed to hear about your brother. You were so close.”

  When John came back into the room, he sat next to Elizabeth on the sofa.

  “It’s all set,” she said. “We’re bringing dinner. He expects us over by five.”

  “Is Bruce living with his mother?” Steven asked.

  “Yes. He was trying to save money -- wants to buy a home.”

  Elizabeth stood abruptly and said, “My God, has anyone called Abigail and the kids?”

  “Are they back in town?” Steven asked.

  “Yes. Yesterday. I’m expecting them for dinner. I’ll call her.” Elizabeth looked weary and sat back on the couch.

  “How do we tell the kids?” John asked.

  “I’ll call,” Steven said and jumped to his feet. He went into the kitchen, grabbed the phone and dialed. “I hate to tell her,” he said, as the phone rang.

  When she didn’t answer, he felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. “She’s not home, so I called her cell. I left a message on both phones.”

  “That’s odd.” Elizabeth’s forehead had lines, she looked at the floor. “They should be home by now.” She looked up. “If she’s driving, she can’t answer. Maybe they’re on their way over.”

  “When did you last hear from her?”

  “Yesterday. They were on their way to the yacht club to eat.”

  “Do you think she changed her mind?”

  “No. She was in San Diego when she called.”

  His sister’s predictability annoyed Steven. “Don’t worry. I’ll track her down.”

  Her dimples revealed to him her gratitude. Within minutes, she stood and walked into the kitchen to start working on the evening meal for the Glovers.

  “Can I get anything at the store?”

  “No, but thanks. I have what I need.”

  He saw the sadness in his mother’s eyes. He walked over, turned her around and held her. She wept.

  Elizabeth pulled away and returned to dinner preparation.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  She choked with emotion and nodded.

  He started his search for Abigail. First, he called Carry English, her best friend since childhood. She wasn’t home, so he left a message. “Mom, what hotel did they stay at?”

  “Don’t bother calling.” Her voice rose, “I told you! Abigail’s in town. She was taking the children to eat at the yacht club yesterday.”

  Chapter Eight

  When they returned to the library to search for the mysterious object, Abigail noticed Matt’s brow lines and saw his mouth turn down. She wondered if he felt upset about being a murder suspect, or becoming a kidnapper. He glanced up and noticed her eyeing him. Her eyes darted away.

  After looking at him again, she saw a blanket of weariness come over him. He seemed almost sad, as if he was longing for something. Get a grip! Abigail, you can’t read his mind. She bent to pick up a book. “Well, I’ll be --,” she said.

  Matt turned to watch her. “Did you find something interesting?”

  She chuckled, “This book might be a treasure to me, but it’s not what you’re looking for. I know the author, that’s all. He was a personal friend of my grandfather, so it brings back memories.”

  “Are they alive?”

  “My grandparents? No, I wish they were. I miss them terribly. They were wonderful people.” She scanned the book. “My grandfather was an evangelist. At times, my grandmother traveled with him and played the piano and sang.”

  “Did you visit them much?”

  “Often, my grandmother and I would sit side by side for hours playing the piano and singing, mostly from the Psalms.”

  “Psalms. What are Psalms?”

  She let out a loud laugh. “Most of my friends are Christians, so it didn’t occur to me that you might not know what Psalms are.”

  He turned his back toward her.

  “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to be offensive. Psalms are a poetic book from the Bible. They were written by King David.”

  Matt gave her a silent glare.

  Later, Abigail sat on the sofa and
glanced over at Matt. He seemed mentally preoccupied. “Is something wrong? Did my laughing offend you that much?”

  “No. That’s not it. Just racking my brain to figure out who murdered the Kilgores. Who do you think did it?” Matt walked over and sat on the couch next to her.

  It surprised her he wanted her opinion, “I don’t know. Perhaps your friend Jack?”

  “No. He didn’t do it. I’m certain of that. We go way back to childhood. He isn’t the type to go around killing people. Plus, he has absolutely no motive; he is here only because I forced him to come.”

  “He seems pretty scary to me.”

  Matt glared at her.

  Abigail turned her attention to observe Danny reading a book, and Lisa lying on the floor asleep.

  “Why don’t you like Jack?”

  “I just don’t trust him. That’s all.”

  “Think what you want, but he’s my best friend. I know his character.”

  “Why are you defending him?”

  “We’ve been friends since junior high. We met on the baseball team. He was the catcher and, I, the pitcher. We work well together. Jack gave excellent signals; he knew exactly where the ball was moving. We spent hours practicing together.”

  “What does baseball have to do with him not being a murderer?”

  “Nothing, I guess. Maybe I’m thinking out loud. The kids at school found him intimidating, too. With his deep voice and large size, he scared the other kids. But, he never scared me, and he knew it. That’s why we hit it off. But, I noticed, even when we were kids, Jack kept to himself, he was almost shy.”

  “Nothing about him seems friendly; he’s a cold man.”

  “Jack has never been the warm, friendly type, but he always had incredible instincts. He always knew when things weren’t right.”

  “Like what?”

  “Once, at the park, Jack needed to take a leak. Sorry. Use the restroom. When he returned, his face was as white as a ghost. He seemed terrified. He said, ‘Some pervert looked at me funny and gave me the creeps. The guy tried to take a peek.’ His eyes darted back and forth in genuine fear. ‘Don’t go in there alone,’ Jack said, and made me promise. I told him, ‘Don’t worry, I get the point. The last thing I want is some pervert checking me out.’ Well, the next day, we heard that some kid was killed. His body was found the same day in the same restroom. We were too terrified to tell anyone, afraid he might come kill us, too, if we told.”

  “Do you regret not telling your parents, or the police?”

  “Later on, as adults, sure, we both wished we spoke up.”

  “That experience must have made an impact on two young boys.”

  “It wasn’t as dreadful as another occasion.”

  “What?”

  “We were hiking up a hill, near our homes. When we reached the top, we saw a parked car. Jack said, ‘Hey. Something’s wrong. Cars shouldn’t be up here.’”

  “We heard noises coming from under the car. We both were trying to get a better look, so we laid flat on the ground to get a better look. It was then that we saw two naked bodies going at it. Neither of us had even seen a Playboy, so, what a shock! At first, we were concerned the woman was being hurt.” Matt went silent.

  “So, what did you do?”

  Matt stood up, visibly upset. “I never told anyone about those incidents before. Thinking about them gives me the creeps.” So he quickly returned to searching.

  Matt’s mind raced -- he didn’t want to tell her the rest of the story.

  The woman under the car started weeping. When they were about to go for help, the man said, “Now, Sally, don’t go and do something foolish and tell your husband. You know, he’ll kill me if he finds out.”

  “If he doesn’t kill me first,” the woman said, between sobs. “What have I done? What on earth was I thinking? If he finds out, he’ll kick me out. I will never see my kids again.”

  “Pull yourself together,” the man said harshly.

  After she calmed down, they got up, got dressed and drove off.

  It was then that we noticed the bleached blond hair on the woman. “My God, she looks like your mother. Oh shit! Her name is Sally! That’s your mother’s name.” We were in shock, horrified and speechless. We both watched his mother having sex with another man, how awful!

  Soon Jack became physically ill. While sobbing he said, “How could she?”

  I was unable to move, say a word, or to comfort. It took years before either of us spoke about what happened. One day, out of the blue, Jack asked how it affected me.

  It was crazy, right up there with the man in the park who murdered that boy. Seeing his mother like that! I kept asking myself how I would feel. It would be too humiliating for words.

  Jack never told his father or mother about that day. Soon after the incident, his mother started going to AA meetings. I think it was her wake-up call for what happens when she’s drunk.

  Abigail walked up to Matt. “What happened? All of a sudden you shut down.”

  “I told you. Talking about those things gives me the creeps. I haven’t thought about those things in years.”

  “What you told me still doesn’t eliminate Jack as a murder suspect.”

  “True, but I know he would never intentionally hurt anyone. Maybe in self-defense or to defend a friend, but that’s it. He’s a loyal friend. Someone I can count on. And, he’s a man of his word.”

  “If he is a man of his word, then ask if he did it.”

  “No. I know he didn’t,” Matt said, flatly. “For starters, he and I arrived on the yacht together. He didn’t have time to kill them.” He moved back to the bookshelf to examine the last set of books.

  She moved closer. “I need to ask you something. How did you and your men know where to find us at sea?”

  “Forelli faxed us the yacht’s course.”

  Abigail walked toward the children and whispered, “Did you tell Lisa about our plan?”

  “No.”

  “If Matt and I talk again, will you tell her?”

  “Sure.”

  In a normal voice, she said, “So, what have you been up to?”

  Danny pointed to an object in the corner sitting on a pedestal table.

  “What do we have here?” she said, as she picked up what looked like a Russian Fabergé egg.

  “Come. Look what Danny found.”

  Matt dropped his book and walked over. After carefully examining it, he said, “Yes. It is a gem. But, why would they leave it in plain sight?”

  “I thought the same thing.”

  He grabbed the jeweled egg to examine it more closely. His eyes opened wide during his inspection.

  “I found it!” Danny yelled.

  “We found it together,” Lisa yelled back.

  “If this thing is genuine, it is worth a bundle. This diamond looks to be two carats.” He glanced toward Abigail. “Unfortunately, some good cuts of zirconium sparkle like diamonds. I’ll have Jack evaluate its authenticity.”

  “But, why would the Kilgores keep it in plain view?” Then, she remembered what a good sense of humor the couple had. They would have gotten a kick out of having it out. “If it is genuine, you can bet Larry put it someplace safe before letting guests disembark.”

  Matt grinned. “This might be real. Let’s say the diamonds, rubies and emeralds are each worth $200,000, plus the value of gold and workmanship, it could be worth a lot. If it’s rare or has historical value, it is worth much more.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s say someone like Hitler or Stalin owned it -- the egg could be priceless. Who knows? It might be what we’re looking for.

  But, just as easily, it could be a good fake, worth little, or secondary to the real treasure.

  Jack’s a jeweler, by trade; he has a good eye. He can tell its value.”

  Abigail’s mouth dropped open. “You mean you’re planning on showing this to Jack?”

  “Yes. We’re a team. We split any money.”

>   She was concerned at the thought of him showing the egg to Jack. He might trust his friend, but she surely did not. No matter how many stories he told her, she would never trust the guy. Great! If the egg ends the search, the children and I might be in more danger. We’re the only witnesses. I need to notify the Coast Guard, and quick!

  After walking to the hatch, Matt said, “Let’s take a break. I need to show this to Jack.”

  As they climbed the ladder leading to the main salon, the children argued. “You know, we found the egg together,” Lisa said. “You have to split the reward with me.”

  “No way. I found it first.”

  Matt stepped in, “Tell you what. If it turns out to be what we’re looking for, you both get a reward.”

  They grabbed some snacks before bringing them to the main salon.

  The children were motioned to sit by the portholes. “You two need more sunlight. Watch over your sister for me.” She whispered, “Tell Lisa to act sick the next visit to the helm.”

  Danny grinned. She hoped he would remember to tell his sister about their plan and hoped he wasn’t more interested in his reward money.

  “How did you determine the egg’s worth so quickly?”

  “From Jack -- he owns a jewelry store in La Jolla. He specializes in appraisals. Even he finds it difficult to discern the authenticity of a diamond without an eyepiece. There’s a lot that goes into an appraisal.”

  “Would it be okay if we go to the wheelhouse? The children need some fresh air. Perhaps our captain can use a break.”

  “No. He’ll let us know when he needs us.” Matt glared at her for a moment, as if trying to read her thoughts.

  Her palms became clammy, and she was hoping he couldn’t sense her anxiety. I desperately want to alert the authorities, but Matt just said no to going to the wheelhouse. Now what?

  Chapter Nine

  I should have made a dinner date with Carry, Abigail fretted. Everything would have been different. I would have said no to Larry’s invitation. The couple would still be alive, and we would be home. She glanced over at Lisa. Carry and I were younger than she is now.

  It seems like yesterday that Carry English and her family pulled up to their new home across the street. My dad helped bring in their heavy furniture and boxes, while Mom cared for the children and prepared dinner for both families.