A Fatal Fabergé

by Ellery Adams

  “Did she tell you what she wanted it for?”

  “No,” he said. “And I didn’t ask. I figured it was none of my business.”

  “Thank you, James.” She paused. “Has anyone else asked you about this?”

  “No. You’re the only one.”

  “Well, if anyone does, like I said, please don’t tell them. Only talk to me or Detective Lombardi about it. All right?”

  “Yeah, of course. But can you at least tell me what it is you’re looking for?”

  “I promise I will, if I find it,” she said. “In the meantime, remember, not a word to anyone.”

  Chapter 24

  On the drive back to Misty Vale, Molly ate another donut and tried not to get her hopes up too high. It was possible the hiding place in the kitchen pantry had nothing to do with the Fabergé egg. On the other hand, what else would Galina have wanted it for, so soon after she’d taken it from her sister’s safe? It would be the perfect hiding place. She doubted anyone had thought to crawl under the shelves in the pantry and pry off the baseboard.

  Approaching the cottage, Molly saw the parking area was empty, which was a huge relief. She couldn’t very well search the kitchen pantry if Hattie was there. Molly assumed she’d locked the house up tight, but it was worth checking, especially since Hattie had left so abruptly. If it was locked, she could always ask Peggy. There had to be a spare key. She’d tell her she left her gloves in the house when she’d rescued Hattie and wanted to get them back.

  After checking the front door, which was locked, she went around back. It didn’t appear anything had changed in the garden since she’d been there. She climbed the steps to the back door, and to her great relief found it unlocked. She slipped quietly into the kitchen and took a moment to look around the room. It was a basic kitchen, probably installed during Natasha’s update over twenty years ago, with light oak cabinets, a white Formica countertop, and black and white floor tile. Nothing fancy, although the appliances looked fairly new.

  The pantry door was closed. She opened it and switched on the overhead light. Rows of shelves held boxes of cereal, plastic containers of flour and sugar, assorted cans of soup, tuna fish, beans, a rack of spices, three Crock-Pots of varying sizes, a pressure cooker, and a turkey-sized roaster. The roaster made her think of Thanksgiving dinner and the turkey that she had yet to take out of the freezer to defrost.

  Note to self. Put the bird in the fridge when you get home.

  Shaking her head to clear out all other thoughts than the job at hand, Molly got down on her hands and knees, turned on the flashlight, and peered under the bottom shelf. She moved the beam along the baseboard until she found the shortest one. She’d have to get closer to pry it open, and the shelf was low, which meant she had to be careful not to bang her head on it. Very carefully, Molly scooted her way under the shelf toward the wall until she could touch the baseboard. She wedged the screwdriver behind it and gave the board a little push. It popped open easily, and she quickly grabbed it before it hit the floor. Focusing the light into a small hollowed-out space behind it, she saw a small wooden box. She took it out, and clutching it in her hand, scooted back into the pantry, until her head cleared the bottom shelf and she could stand up again. Holding the box in both hands, she took a good look at it. The wood was old, with an aged and warm patina. The box itself was unadorned, with only a simple metal clasp securing the lid. Molly walked into the kitchen with it and set it down gently on the table. Then, taking a deep breath, she unlatched the lid and opened the box.

  Chapter 25

  Molly didn’t need to see a photograph of the Fabergé egg to know she’d found it. Resting gently on a purple velvet cushion, it had an enamel body of soft pink laced with ribbons of gold intertwined with rows of tiny diamonds and rubies. She lifted the egg out carefully and was surprised by its weight. She could see the seam where the egg opened, and pushed it open. Inside was the golden dog that Felix had told her about, complete with its diamond and ruby collar.

  Tears suddenly sprang to Molly’s eyes. She felt overwhelmed with joy, but also a deep sadness. If the story Dariya had told her family was true and the Empress Alexandra had given the egg to her as a gift, it was done shortly before she was murdered, along with her husband and children. The thought of putting this piece of history back into the box and straight into Natasha’s safe, where it would never be seen again, made her feel a little ill. The Fabergé egg was an antique of great historical importance. To her it seemed wrong of the Gordon family to have kept it a secret, but it wasn’t up to her to decide its fate. The egg belonged to Natasha.

  Molly laid the egg back on its velvet cushion and secured the lid. Her legs felt a little wobbly from the excitement of finding it, and she pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. She took her cell phone out of her purse and called Lombardi, and when he answered, she put the call on speaker.

  “Molly, I was just about to call you,” he said.

  “I’m at the cottage,” she said. “I found the egg.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “No. It was in the kitchen pantry, behind a baseboard. You should see it. It’s so beautiful.”

  “Did Hattie let you search the cottage?”

  “Ah, it’s probably better you don’t ask how I got in,” she said. “The thing is, I don’t want to give it back to Natasha. I want to try to convince her to go public with it, or donate it, or loan it to a museum.”

  “Look, I know you feel passionate about antiques,” he said, “but right now, what you need to do is bring the egg to the station so I can log it into evidence. I promise, we’ll lock it up and keep it safe. And later, you can talk to Natasha about what to do with it.”

  “Log it into evidence? Does this mean you’ve decided it’s connected to Curtis’s death?”

  “I’m not completely on board with it yet, but I’m a lot closer to believing it could be because of a phone conversation I just had with Detective Rodriquez in Cocoa Beach, Florida. That’s why I was going to call you, to tell you about it. Remember, you asked me to get the police report on Galina’s death?”

  “Yes. What did it say?”

  “It wasn’t what I expected, which is why I called Rodriquez. He was the lead detective on the case. It seems they never found Galina’s body.”

  “What?” Molly was stunned. “I don’t understand. They had a funeral for her. I saw her grave, and the headstone.”

  “Rodriquez told me they found her swimsuit cover-up on the beach where she went into the water, along with her sandals, a towel, her phone, and the key to the house they were renting. He said there was a storm that night out at sea, and the waves were higher than usual, the water rough. Not exactly the best time to go for a swim. Curtis reported her missing at ten thirty-nine, two hours after she’d left the house. He told Rodriquez it was something she liked to do, swimming at night, and she was a strong swimmer, so he wasn’t too worried when she didn’t come home right away. Rodriquez suspected Curtis right off the bat. He said he smelled of booze and thought his story was hinky. But without a body, or any other evidence to implicate him in Galina’s death, he had nothing to hold him on, and he couldn’t arrest him on a hunch. They did search the rental house, but it was clean, no signs of a struggle or any kind of violence. The house is on a private beach, and the nearest neighbors didn’t hear or see anything. There was no way to prove Galina didn’t go out for a swim and get swept out to sea, so they ruled her death an accidental drowning.”

  “Maxim told me his father wouldn’t let him see her body, that it was a closed-casket funeral.”

  “He would, wouldn’t he? Since they didn’t have a body to bury.”

  “I think it’s horrible Curtis didn’t tell him,” she said, feeling appalled. “Maxim deserved to know. So did Natasha.”

  “I’ve got two thoughts on this. One, if Curtis did kill Galina, the last thing he’d want to do is draw suspicion to himself. Maxim would have asked too many questions, and if he was planning to sell
the egg on his own, once he found it, he wouldn’t want him complicating things.”

  “That makes sense,” she said. “What’s your second thought?”

  “Curtis was innocent, and Galina drowned because she was stupid to go for a swim in the dark when the ocean was rough. Maybe he didn’t tell Maxim about her body disappearing simply because he felt bad about not being able to bring her home, or he didn’t want to put the image of her getting eaten by sharks in his head for the rest of his life.”

  Molly grimaced. “Gee, thanks a lot for putting that image in my head.”

  “Sorry.”

  She sighed. “I suppose we’ll never know why he didn’t tell Maxim. Will you tell him? Or would you like me to?”

  “I’ll tell him when I see him tomorrow. With so many new developments, I’m interviewing everyone again.”

  “There are a few other things you should know.” Molly told him about Hattie being locked up in the house by Felix so he could search for the egg, her visit to the Preservation Society, and how she got the idea to talk to James Galloway. “My mother was the one who gave me the idea,” she said. “She thought the hiding place could have been built recently. I feel like an idiot for not thinking of it before.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You only just heard about the egg. A whole slew of people have been looking for it for weeks without any luck.”

  “James told me Galina made him promise not to tell anyone, but no one’s asked. Not even Natasha. I’m surprised she didn’t think of a secret hiding place in the cottage.”

  “She didn’t have your mother to talk it over with,” he said.

  “True. She’s always ready to give her opinion, and she’s usually right.” Molly paused. “I have an idea of my own, actually. When you interview everyone again, tell them you have the Fabergé egg. Whoever killed Curtis will be thrilled you found it. I bet they’ll bide their time until it’s returned to Natasha, and then they’ll crawl out of the woodwork, no pun intended, to steal it from her. You should talk to Natasha about setting up some kind of sting operation.”

  “You’re forgetting, she could be the killer,” he said.

  “But what if it’s not her? My plan could work. Won’t you try?”

  “Solving a case can be like peeling an onion, Molly. It’s one layer at a time. So I’ll bring everyone into the station to put the pressure on, and I’ll watch their reactions and body language when I tell them I’ve got the egg. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky and someone will break down and confess. It’s been known to happen.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d let me observe the interviews.”

  “Just bring the egg to the station,” he said. Molly imagined he was shaking his head at her. “Let me know when you get here, and I’ll meet you at the door.”

  Chapter 26

  Molly sighed as she hung up with Lombardi. To have come this far, to be the person who found the egg, but not be able to know what was said when he questioned everyone was immensely disappointing. All she could do was deliver the egg into his hands and hope he might run with her idea of using it to lure the killer into the open. She picked up her purse, intending to put her phone back in it, when she heard a floorboard creak behind her. She turned in her seat and saw Hattie standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room.

  “Oh, my gosh. You about gave me a heart attack,” she said before she realized Hattie was holding a gun in her hand and pointing the barrel at her. “What the . . . ?”

  “I came back for some of my things,” Hattie said. “Imagine my surprise when I saw your car parked outside. I knew you had to be up to something, so I came in quietly and heard you talking to Detective Lombardi.”

  Molly felt like an incompetent fool. Was she losing her touch? She hadn’t noticed Noble Dyson tailing her, and now she hadn’t heard Hattie sneak into the house.

  “How much of our conversation did you hear?”

  “Enough to know Curtis buried an empty casket.” So she heard everything, Molly thought. “Sounds like the cops think he might have killed Galina. What do you think?”

  “I hope he didn’t,” Molly said. “Where did you get the gun?”

  “Oh, this?” Hattie smiled. “It’s mine. I think of it as home security on the go. I keep it in my purse. But enough chitchat. Open the box. I want to see the egg.” Molly started to get up, but Hattie waved the gun at her. “Nope, sit down.” Molly sat down again. “Open it.” She opened the box and Hattie stepped into the room and came closer to the table. Her eyes widened as she stared at the egg. “It’s magnificent,” she whispered.

  “It is,” Molly said. “Now we know what all the fuss was about.”

  Hattie glanced at her. “Too bad you won’t be able to give it to the police. Close the box and slide it across the table to me.” Molly did as she was told. Hattie put the box inside her bag and snapped it closed. “Now, give me your purse. Slide it over here.” Again, Molly complied. Hattie took the purse and turned the contents out on the table. She found Noble Dyson’s card and tucked it into her jacket pocket. “Thanks for telling me about Mr. Dyson. I’ll give him a call and let him know I’m ready to sell the egg to his client.”

  “You and Curtis were always going to sell it if you found it, weren’t you?”

  “Of course we were,” Hattie said. “I told Curtis, if Felix can find a buyer, so can I.”

  “Did you kill him, so you could sell it on your own?”

  “I didn’t kill Curtis. I told you before, I loved him.”

  “If you really loved him, you’d help me. We can use the egg to trap his killer.”

  “What’s the point? Curtis is gone, and solving his murder isn’t going to bring him back to life. Besides, I know he’d want me to have the money.”

  “Nothing good is going to come of this,” Molly said. “Why don’t you let me deliver the egg to the police, and we’ll tell Natasha you’re the one who found it. I’m sure she won’t take much convincing to give you a reward. You’ll be a hero to her.”

  Hattie’s eyes flared. “Why should I help that stingy old cow? She was going to kick me and Curtis out on the street. I don’t owe her anything.” She hitched her bag further up her shoulder. “I’ll tell you what I will do, though. If you agree to keep your mouth shut, as soon as I get paid, I’ll give you a hundred grand. Agreed?”

  Molly stared at her. Why did everyone think she could be bought? “Not interested,” she said.

  “Why not? All you have to do is keep quiet.”

  “The egg belongs to Natasha, and the Gordon estate. It should be returned to her.”

  “Oh, please. Get off your high horse. I heard you tell the cop you don’t want to give it back to her.”

  “You’re right, I don’t,” Molly said. “It makes me sick to my stomach thinking it will be stuck in a safe again, where no one will be able to appreciate its beauty. But the man who wants to buy it is going to do the same thing with it. He’ll keep it to himself, and he’ll be the only one who sees it. If you sell it to him, the egg will be lost forever.”

  Hattie shrugged. “Not my problem,” she said. “And I’m not in the mood to argue with you. If you won’t take the money, you’re not leaving me much choice about what to do with you.”

  Molly knew the easy way out of this mess would have been to agree to Hattie’s offer. She was, after all, pointing a gun at her. She had to think of another way to get out of this alive. “Take the egg,” she said. “I’ll tell Lombardi it slipped out of my hand and it broke.”

  “He’ll want evidence.”

  Molly had to think quick. “I saw a small decorative enamel figurine on the mantel in the living room.”

  “The girl with the cat?”

  “Yes, it’s an antique. I can break it up. He’ll never know the difference. I’ll tell him it’s the egg.” Natasha would know the difference, of course, but Molly hoped Hattie wouldn’t think of that.

  “You swear?”

  Molly had to force hersel
f not to roll her eyes. How old was Hattie? Ten? “Yes, I swear,” she lied.

  Hattie nodded slowly. “All right, I guess I’ll have to trust you. I’d rather not have to deal with hiding your body in the woods.” She picked up Molly’s wallet, cell phone, and car keys and shoved them into her purse. “Don’t think I couldn’t easily kill you. When I was a kid, I used to hunt deer with my father. Remember, I grew up in Vermont.” She went to the cupboard, opened a drawer, and took out a pair of scissors. Molly hadn’t noticed before, but there was a traditional landline phone on the wall, and Hattie cut the cord. “Come on, get up,” she said. “We’ll get the figurine and break it up in here.”

  Molly walked in front of her into the living room. She took the figurine off the mantel and carried it back into the kitchen. Hattie opened a drawer and took out a box of plastic bags. She put the figurine in a bag, zipped it, and using a wooden meat mallet broke it up into small pieces.

  “Not bad,” Hattie said, holding up the bag. “It’s very colorful.”

  “Trust me, he’ll never know it’s not the egg,” Molly said, hoping she sounded convincing.

  Hattie laid the bag on the table. “I am going to need a head start to get away, so if someone finds you, tell them Felix locked you up. Come on. We’re going upstairs.” Again, Hattie stayed behind Molly as they went up the stairs and down the hall to Curtis’s office. She pushed her inside, then took the chair Felix had used earlier to shut her in, setting it out in the hall. “I’m going to lock you up, the same way Felix did to me, since I know it worked,” she said. “I’ll be in touch when I’ve sold the egg. You do what you said about tricking Lombardi, and that hundred grand is yours.”