“Miss,” one of the detectives said to Janey, when she and Thomas finally unhinged from each other. “I’m going to need to talk to you.”
“May I use the powder room first?”
“Of course.”
While Janey disappeared down the hallway with her purse, Regan decided to take a quick look in the bedroom. She hadn’t had a chance to look for Ben’s journal once they realized Janey was locked in the closet.
The bedroom was a mess. Ben’s nightstand had been emptied onto the floor. His closet had been picked apart. Photographs, books, papers, and clothes were strewn all over. Regan lifted up a few of the papers, a couple of pairs of pants, and then she spotted a spiral notebook sticking out from under the bed.
Regan picked it up and opened it. It was Ben’s journal! The first page was marked January 1st of this year. She quickly flipped through the pages. The last entry was dated Wednesday, March 10th. Two days ago. Unbelievable.
It was a fairly brief entry.
Well tomorrow is our big day to break the news to Thomas at the club. It’s exciting. The big party is Saturday. I told Nat I wanted to invite a date. He told me he’s breaking up with his girlfriend. He said it would embarrass him to bring her to the party because of their age difference. I told him fuhgedaboutit!
Regan turned back the pages. There were more brief entries that didn’t reveal much. And then the one marked February 28th was longer.
Today Nat and I went bowling. We got to talking about Sadie Hawkins Day. I said it was too bad there was no February 29th this year. Maybe some nice lady would ask me out. He started to laugh, and I knew something was up. Finally he admits he’s been seeing someone a little bit. The sly devil! He said he likes her, but there’s only one problem. When you get close, her perfume is so strong. I told him to go buy her a new bottle. I said maybe I’ll find someone and we can go to the club’s anniversary party together. Then he said he felt guilty. I said, about what? Wendy? She’d want you to be happy. He just shook his head and said he didn’t want to talk about it. So I let it go. I still say a double date would be fun.
Regan flipped through the remaining pages. No name of the girlfriend. No other references to her. Oh, Ben, why didn’t you ask Nat her name?
Regan dropped the notebook on the bed in frustration and walked into the living room. Thomas was sitting with his arm protectively around Janey as she answered the detective’s questions. “Her perfume was kind of strong,” Janey noted.
Regan paused. Perfume? But then she heard a voice in the doorway and turned her head quickly. Mary Ruffner was scribbling notes as she talked to Officer Dowling. “… so she came here to pick up the food she had dropped off yesterday…”
I can just imagine tomorrow’s headlines, Regan thought.
41
By the time Thorn got his act together, he realized he would not be able to make a Friday evening flight to New York City. Instead, he opted to go into London for dinner in one of his favorite restaurants, spend the night in a hotel, and head to the airport in the morning.
A much more civilized departure.
One of the problems with living so far out in the country was that things had to be planned in advance. But Thorn wouldn’t trade his situation for the world. His butler school was on a magnificent estate-the perfect setting for such an establishment.
Hours before daylight, Thorn lay awake in his bed at the Andrews Hotel. He was restless, tossing and turning so much that the bedcovers were turning into a knotty mess. He had an early morning flight, and the news from Cousin Archibald that he wanted to buy the Settlers’ Club was too delicious to be true. Thorn expected to destroy Maldwin’s career, but then to set up his own butler school in the very building where Maldwin had failed was beyond his wildest dreams.
Suddenly, Thorn bolted up in the bed. He had a brilliant idea. He would contact his friend in New York in the morning. He turned on the light and grabbed the hotel notepad and pen sitting by the phone. He jotted down some ideas and dropped the pad back into the night table drawer.
Turning out the light, he sighed happily. Within minutes he was fast asleep.
42
Back at the club, the phone was ringing off the hook. Members who had heard or heard about Clara’s television announcement were calling in and complaining. To the right of the front door was the all-purpose mail room, reception area, and general epicenter for the club’s activities. Whoever was working there answered the phones, greeted the guests, and usually watched a little television. Will Callan, a longtime employee who had no interest in retirement, was on duty when Regan, Thomas, and Janey returned to the club from Ben’s apartment.
“There’s been a lot of excitement tonight, boss,” Will observed as he handed Thomas a stack of messages.
“Tell me about it,” Thomas replied.
“Clara really pulled a good one.”
“What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t believe my ears. I’m sitting here working and all of a sudden I hear Clara’s voice. I turn and look at the TV-it’s one of those true-crime shows, and Clara’s telling all about what happened here last night. I said to myself, ‘Oh boy.’ Next thing you know, the phones light up.”
Thomas took a deep breath and turned to Regan and Janey. “That thoughtless woman! I don’t think I can take much more. I would love to see what my horoscope predicted for today.”
Janey reached out her hand to gently pat his. “Part of it is my fault.”
You’re right about that, Regan thought. “Listen,” she said, “I want to run upstairs to Lydia’s party and get the lay of the land, as they say.” She looked at her watch. “It’s already nine o’clock, which means the party started an hour ago.”
Thomas held up the messages. “I’m going to get on the phone to Clara and then whoever else I need to call back. Then Janey and I will have a quiet bite to eat in the dining room. Why don’t you join us for a nightcap when you’re finished at the party?”
“After being locked in that closet all day, I almost feel like going dancing,” Janey said.
Thomas looked pained. “Tomorrow night we’ll dance at the party.” He then added, “As Rome burns.”
Will had been sitting at his post, listening to the conversation. “At least that movie company packed up and headed out. Boy, were they annoying. They even took Nat’s sheep with them. I tried to stop them, but Daphne said it was okay and they’ll bring them back after they finish the movie.”
“The sheep are gone!” Thomas cried. “I want them back here for the party tomorrow night. I’ll have to have a word with Daphne.”
Will nodded in agreement and slowly blinked his eyes a couple of times.
“Could you get her on the phone?” Thomas asked.
“She went with them,” Will said.
“Please tell her to see me as soon as she gets back.”
Will gave Thomas the thumbs-up sign.
“Okay, Thomas,” Regan said. “I’ve got to run. I’ll see you later.”
Upstairs in Nat’s apartment, Regan quickly took off the pants and sweater she had worn all day. For some reason she knew that they would not be quite dressy enough for Lydia’s party. She freshened up in the guest bathroom, reapplied her makeup, then pulled a black skirt and black leather jacket out of her bag. In another two minutes she was ready.
“Here goes nothing,” she said as she left Nat’s apartment, double locked the door, and stepped across the hall.
One of the student butlers answered the door. He bowed slightly as Regan stepped inside.
Lydia came running over to greet her. She was dressed in a flowing, low-cut, pink silk dress. It seemed to match the room. When she gave Regan an air kiss, Regan got quite a whiff of her perfume.
Oh great, Regan thought. Now anyone who wears perfume is going to be on my list of suspects. “How are you?” she asked Lydia.
“You wouldn’t believe how busy I’ve been today,” Lydia said, then laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the worl
d.
Regan smiled. “I’ve been kind of busy too.”
“Well, come in. I want to introduce you around.”
There were about fifteen people in the room, many of whom were on Stanley’s video. To Regan’s surprise, Lydia started tapping her glass with a spoon and calling for everyone’s attention. When the chatter died down, she began, “Oh yes, hello again, everyone. I’m so glad you’re here tonight. Last night’s fun was cut short due to the death of my dear neighbor. But we have also learned that diamonds are missing from his apartment. So, everyone, we’re here not only to get a chance to know each other, but also to help out my detective friend-” Lydia pointed as though she were announcing the winner of a beauty contest-“Regan Reilly!”
As all eyes turned to Regan, Lydia clapped.
So much for subtlety, Regan thought. “Thank you, Lydia. And thank you all for your attention. You know, I could really use your help. Sometimes we notice something, but it doesn’t really register until we focus on it. That’s why I’d like to ask each of you what you remember about last night. You might have seen something in the hallway or in the lobby downstairs when you came in. It could be anything. I know you all were enjoying yourselves in here for most of the night. But think about when you were coming in and out of the building. Thank you.”
As soon as Regan stopped talking, people turned to each other and started murmuring.
“Let’s have fun again,” Lydia cried as she turned up the CD player.
A guy with a bad toupee hurried over to Regan, his drink spilling slightly down the sides of his glass.
“You must have seen something. Let’s sit down right here,” Regan said, indicating one of the love seats.
He sat down next to her and stared into her eyes. “You know, normally I only go for blondes, but I think that I could like you.” He quickly took a sip of his drink.
This is worse than any nightmare, Regan thought. “Actually, I’m seeing someone right now.”
“Is it serious?” he asked, his eyes growing wider.
“Serious enough,” Regan said, then found herself saying, “besides, I live in California.”
He reached over and touched her hand. “I go out there sometimes on business.”
Regan shook her head slightly. “Sorry, I really am involved with someone. Now tell me what you saw last night.”
“Nothing.” He got up and headed straight for the food table.
Jack should see the competition, Regan thought as she spotted the woman with the Snoopy purse. Regan caught her eye, and the woman came over to her slowly.
“Please sit down,” Regan said. “That’s an interesting purse.”
The woman was somewhere between forty and death. Regan had the odd sensation that she even resembled Snoopy.
“It’s a conversation piece,” she said.
Regan leaned over and touched Snoopy’s nose. She got a quick glimpse of a hidden zipper underneath it before the woman pulled it away.
“Please don’t touch Snoopy,” she said. “I don’t want him to get your germs.”
Oh boy, Regan thought.
“And I didn’t see anything much last night. But I’m very sad that Nat died. He was a nice man.”
“Did you know him?” Regan asked gently.
“He came to Lydia’s Valentine’s Day party. He sat with me for a little while and said he liked my purse. Then he told me he liked sheep. He said he had a couple of life-sized sheep that he’d show me. We talked about them a little bit. Then I went to the bathroom, and when I came out, he was gone.” Her voice trembled as she spoke the last few words. “I guess he didn’t like me.”
“Maybe he was tired,” Regan said.
“The party was kind of breaking up. I guess I took too long in the bathroom.”
“Didn’t you see him again at any of Lydia’s other parties?”
“I caught the flu,” she said and looked at Snoopy. “You did too, didn’t you?” She turned back to Regan. “Last night was my first night back.”
Some witness this one would be, Regan thought. She could just picture her on the stand consulting with Snoopy. “Were these people all at that party on Valentine’s Day?”
Snoopy’s mom looked around. “Pretty much.”
“A nice group, huh?” Regan prodded.
“They’re all right. But a couple of these women really pour on the perfume. How do they think they’re going to get a guy if you can’t breathe around them?”
“Who wears the strong perfume?” Regan asked.
She pointed to the door. “One of them’s leaving right now.”
43
Jack Reilly woke up and looked at his watch. They’d be landing in London in a couple of hours. Inside the passenger section of the plane, most of the lights were turned out. Around him people’s heads were lolling in various positions as they dozed.
I wonder how Regan is, he thought. If it’s not too late in New York when we land, I’ll give her a call. For some reason, he didn’t feel good about her staying in that apartment in the Settlers’ Club. And I made light of it to her, he thought.
Sighing, he reached under the seat for his briefcase. He pulled out the materials about the case he’d be working on with Scotland Yard. A suspected murderer had been apprehended in London. The British inspectors had him in custody and had searched his flat. Inside they’d found subway maps and pictures of New York, along with various phone numbers. Jack’s buddy was the detective superintendent at Scotland Yard.
“We need you to come over and take a look at this stuff. See if it means anything to you,” Ian Welch had said on the phone.
Jack was glad to help Welch, but he wished the timing had been better. Oh well, he thought. I’ll be back on Sunday.
But as much as he tried, he couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that Regan shouldn’t be staying in that apartment alone.
44
I’m sorry!” Clara cried into the phone. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“How?” Thomas snapped. “Haven’t you ever heard that once a person’s or an institution’s reputation has been ruined, it’s very hard to regain?”
“My aunt regained her reputation!” Clara said triumphantly.
“What are you talking about?”
Clara sat in her chair. “A long time ago, when she was working in somebody’s house as a maid, some jewelry disappeared. The poor old lady who lost the jewelry insisted it must have been my Aunt Gladys who took it. So she got fired. Well, a few months later they found the jewelry in the house. Turns out the lady was a little dotty and kept forgetting where she hid things!”
“It’s not the same,” Thomas insisted.
“But it was terrible. Aunt Gladys lost a lot of weight in those months. It was only when she got her reputation back that she went back to eating like there was no tomorrow.”
“Clara, I am not calling to hear about your Aunt Gladys. I am calling to request that you do not talk to anyone about anything that goes on at the club. Reporters might try to reach you. Please don’t say another word. Now do you understand?”
“Yes, Thomas. I’m very sorry but I’ll make it up to you.”
“How?”
“I know you’ve got the party tomorrow. I’ll come in and work for free!”
That’ll make a big difference, Thomas thought wryly. But Clara meant well. “All right, Clara. I’m sure we can use your help in the morning.”
“I’ll be there bright and early.”
The phone clicked in Thomas’s ear. He turned to Janey. “Let’s go eat.”
“You’d better call the members back first.”
Thomas winced and picked up the phone again. “Here goes nothing.”
45
Georgette escaped into the bathroom when Regan started sticking her nose around the party. I knew we were running into a streak of bad luck, she thought. This is not good.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she sighed. She unzipped her purse and took out her brush. As she fussed wi
th her hair, she reviewed her options. By the time she was reapplying her lipstick, Georgette had decided that she couldn’t leave. It would look too suspicious. But after tonight, that’s it. Blaise and I will search for the diamonds in Nat’s apartment, and if we don’t find them, we’ll cut our losses and get out of town tomorrow. Who needs this aggravation?
When she came out of the bathroom, Blaise was standing there with a tray of drinks. “Keep cool,” he whispered. “We’re out of here soon.”
Georgette smiled, took a glass of champagne, and walked back into the living room. I’m not going to miss these parties, she thought. Having to make excuses to a bunch of losers, explaining why you don’t want to go to the movies. Give me a break. Uh oh. Here comes Regan Reilly, acting so fake friendly.
“Hello,” Georgette said. “Any luck so far?”
Regan shrugged. “The woman I just spoke to said she wasn’t even here last night.”
“I was talking to her. She’s a friend of Lydia’s from New Jersey. She called Lydia today and told her she was coming into the city, so Lydia told her to stop over. By the way, my name is Georgette.”
“Nice to meet you. Is there anything you can tell me about last night that might be helpful?”
Georgette tossed back her blond-streaked hair, shifted from foot to foot, and lowered her voice. “You know, Regan, the big mystery to me is why I come to these parties. The guy with the rug who was hitting on you asked me last night if I like to take walks on moonlit beaches.” Georgette chuckled into her glass. “Or lounge on sheepskin rugs in front of the fireplace.”
“Sheepskin rugs?” Regan asked.
“Can you believe that? My skin crawls just thinking about it.”
“Thinking about the rugs, or him?” Regan asked.
“Him! I’ve got nothing against sheep.”
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