by Mary Marks
“Fine, but if we don’t proceed in the next day or two, we may have to push back the sale one week. I still need time to price each item.”
We stood and shook hands. “I’ll call you once the attorney gives me the go-ahead.”
Carl escorted her to a cream-colored Escalade and returned with a business card and a grin on his face. “Dinner tomorrow.”
“You work fast.”
Arthur sniffed around the foyer again, nose to the floor. “Carl, remember what you said about looking for truth but being blind to possibilities?”
“Yeah.”
I pointed to the dog. “What if he’s not sniffing for donut crumbs? Remember how he discovered Nathan’s grave? I think Arthur’s sensing something hidden there. He’s confirming what we already suspect. The stairway is the portal to the secret room.”
Carl tapped his temple. “Smart dog. But we still have to find the way in.”
I attached Arthur’s leash and headed for the door. “We will when those blueprints turn up.”
CHAPTER 25
When I arrived back home in Encino, I telephoned Abernathy. “Sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I have several urgent things to discuss with you.”
“Not at all. I’m anxious to explain the unfortunate business with Harriet’s account. I guarantee I knew nothing about it. We’re close to finding the culprit. And when we do, you can be sure we’ll turn him over to the police.”
“Well—”
“Furthermore, I’m working closely with Kessler to repair any damages done. My office is replacing the money in Harriet’s account with interest. I sure am grateful for your understanding on this. If you have any concerns—any concerns at all—I want to put your mind at ease.”
Plus, you don’t want me to report you to the DA or the California State Bar. “You’re right, Deke, I am concerned. What I do about the embezzlement will depend on the final audit of Harriet’s estate. Right now, however, I need to talk to you about a couple of other things. We should talk in person.” I wanted to gauge his reactions.
“Okay. I can meet you in my office this afternoon.”
“I’ve already made one trip over the hill today and I don’t want to make another. You’ll have to come to my house.” I figured Abernathy would do anything at this point to make me happy.
“How does four sound? I have your address.”
I spent the rest of the afternoon with graph paper and colored pencils, working on the first step in engineering Quincy’s Wedding Ring quilt. I plotted the placement of the different colored rings. I drew the yellow one in the middle of the quilt about two thirds of the way up. Yellow was the brightest color and immediately drew attention. Dividing the quilt into thirds created the golden mean, the point where the design reached a balance most pleasing to the eye. All the rings would be linked, and no ring of one color would touch another ring of the same color. How many rings I ultimately constructed would depend on the size of her bed—a detail I didn’t yet care to think about.
Abernathy arrived at exactly four. We drank coffee in the living room and I told him about Henry Oliver’s telephone call.
“Is he right? Can he nullify Harriet’s will on the grounds the police think she killed her husband? Does he have any legal claim to family heirlooms or any of the property Harriet inherited from her husband?”
“Relax.” Abernathy leaned back. “This is an easy one. It doesn’t matter what the police think. Since Harriet was never convicted of her husband’s murder, she inherits everything. Neither of Nathan’s siblings have a right to any part of the estate. Even family heirlooms.”
“What if they go to court and manage to convince a judge Harriet killed Nathan?”
Deke gave a short laugh. “You can’t convict a dead person of murder. She has to be alive before you can potentially seek the death penalty on her.”
“Well, what about wrongful death, like the O. J. Simpson case?”
“Same answer. You can’t sue a dead person. Anyway, the Olivers don’t have evidence to prove wrongful death. Just relax and continue on with what you’re doing, Martha. No one can invalidate Harriet’s inheritance. The relatives have no grounds to challenge her will.”
“I’m still worried. Nathan’s brother tried to bully me over the phone. When I told him most of the family heirlooms were missing, he threatened to sue me and file a criminal complaint. I don’t look forward to telling him when he comes to LA next week that his only legitimate claim is for Nathan’s remains, not his estate.”
Abernathy swiped dismissively at the air. “You don’t have to deal with him. You have me, remember? The guy’s trying to do an end run around the will. Bring him to my office, and I’ll take care of him. You can sit on the sidelines and watch from the bench.”
I thought about Estella’s request for the antique Spode china and the silver candelabras from Spain. “I’m actually considering letting the family keep some items. As I understand the terms of the will, I don’t have the authority to give those things away, but I can sell them. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“I plan to offer some of the family heirlooms to Estella for the price of one dollar. Will that satisfy the terms of the will?”
“No. The law is clear. You have to sell them at fair market value. Anyway, the whole question of heirlooms is moot since you say most of the items are missing.”
“Maybe not. Did you know Harriet built a safe room in her house in 2005?” I watched his face closely.
Abernathy pulled his head back and stared at me. “No, I mean, I recall something about work being done, but I just assumed she remodeled her kitchen.”
“I think the missing items could be inside that room. I’m pretty sure the entrance is under the stairway.”
“Amazing. Let’s hope Harriet’s killer didn’t get there first.”
If Abernathy faked his surprise, I couldn’t tell. “There’s one more thing, Deke. The police think Harriet killed Nathan. They’re not going to investigate his murder.”
“Yeah, I can understand why they came to that conclusion.”
“According to Detective Farkas, they’re basing their decision on something Harriet’s friend Isabel told them.”
Abernathy looked confused. “Do you know what she said?”
“No, but Isabel told me how Nathan abused Harriet.”
Deke looked up sharply. “So you know about the abuse?”
“Yes. And I believe the police concluded Harriet reached a breaking point and attacked her abuser.”
“I suppose . . .” Abernathy rubbed his jaw.
“Deke, you and I both know Harriet didn’t have a murderous bone in her body. I want to know everything about Nathan. Who might have had a motive to kill him? Who were his enemies? Give me names.”
The attorney pursed his lips. “Client privilege—”
“They’re both dead! This is Harriet’s reputation we’re talking about.”
Abernathy took a deep breath. “Nico Grimaldi is the name of the charter boat captain where Jonah died. Oliver refused to testify on Grimaldi’s behalf at a hearing. As a result, Grimaldi was forced to sell his business to pay a huge fine. The captain swore he’d get even.”
“Harriet kept the secret of Nathan’s murder all those years. She knew his grave was in the backyard and made sure nobody else discovered it. She kept silent all those years to protect Nathan’s killer. If Grimaldi killed Nathan, what would make her protect Grimaldi? He was a stranger.”
Abernathy shrugged. “You knew Harriet. She might have felt sorry for the man and guilty for what her husband did to him.”
“Anyone else you can think of Nathan screwed over?”
“Oliver was an SOB. Plenty of people hated the guy. But no one stands out at as a possible murderer.”
“I want to talk to Grimaldi.”
Abernathy did a double take. “He’ll never talk to you.”
“I’ll pretend to offer him money. I’ll say Harriet wrote in her will that she wa
nted to make restitution for an old injustice.”
“Not very wise. He could be dangerous.”
“Not if he thinks I’m only carrying out Harriet’s last wishes.”
Before he left, Abernathy promised to call me with Grimaldi’s last known address.
I called Susan Daniels with the go-ahead for the sale. Tomorrow would be a very big day. Susan would clear out Harriet’s house, and I’d finally get to see the blueprints. As for the secret room, I was almost there.
CHAPTER 26
Arthur and I pulled into Harriet’s driveway at six forty-five Monday morning. Malo was stretched out in the living room asleep underneath a blanket on Harriet’s green leather sofa.
“Some watchman you are!”
He snorted awake and jerked upright. “Hunh?”
I handed him a cup of Starbucks. “I said, ‘Some watchman you are.’ You were so dead asleep I could’ve walked off with the boots on your feet.”
“Oh, man, I’m sorry. Usually I’m a light sleeper.” He yawned and slid a very big handgun with a shiny steel barrel from under the sofa pillow and tucked it in his waistband.
I looked at my watch. “In about ten minutes, a lot of people are going to enter the front door with boxes and pack up everything in this house. I need you to walk around and keep an eye on things.”
Malo stood. “Sure. What do you want me to do if I see someone boosting something?”
I looked at his gun. “Don’t shoot.”
A twenty six-foot-long moving truck pulled up in front of the house. I put the dog in the fenced-in backyard to keep him from getting in the way or running out the front door. “If you find any more dead bodies, Arthur, just keep it to yourself.” He walked over to the dirt covering Nathan’s former grave, sniffed around, and squatted.
Malo followed as I opened the front door. Susan Daniels wore skinny leg jeans in what I guessed to be a size six. The black lace of her bra peeked out at her deep vee neckline. She jumped a tiny bit when she saw the vertical tattoos on Malo’s cheeks. “Good morning.” She eyed him curiously, then looked at me. “Is Carl here?”
“He’s coming later.” I stepped aside and gestured toward the foyer. “Susan Daniels, this is Hector Fuentes, nighttime security.”
“Call me Malo.” He grinned, flashing a gold incisor.
Susan nodded brightly. “Well, time to get to work.” She waved out the door. A dozen workers carrying bundles of cardboard boxes, rolls of tape, bubble wrap, and huge bags of packing peanuts trooped behind her into the kitchen.
Malo sidled close to me, and whispered at the back of my head, “Damn.”
I whispered back, “Carl already has first dibs. Dinner tonight.”
“Now I know why that vato wanted me to take the last part of his shift today.”
We strolled into the kitchen. Susan set up a coffee station for the workers, including gallon containers from Starbucks and two large flats from Western Donuts. “Please help yourselves.” She smiled at Malo and me. Without hesitation, I reached for an apple fritter.
At nine, Carl arrived to begin his shift.
Malo bumped fists and left. “Later, dawg.”
By eleven, everything in the kitchen had been divided into lots and packed. I inspected each numbered carton before the workers sealed them with tape, and initialed a pink manifest listing the contents. Then the boxes were loaded into the truck. With each departing container, my burden lifted a little.
The antique Spode china in the dining room and the silver candelabras were carefully packed in several shipping crates and set aside. Even though Estella didn’t ask for them specifically, I also included a few more old silver pieces, probably family heirlooms.
Susan took several photos of the mahogany bowfront china cabinet with an elaborately carved lion pediment and claw feet. “This piece should fetch at least ten thousand at auction. Maybe double. I might have a couple of interested buyers.”
A food truck showed up at noon and everyone took a lunch break. I brought the dog into the house. He sat next to me and thumped his tail loudly on the floor while I fed him half of my carne asada taco and called Kessler. He was unavailable, but Isis assured me she’d deliver the message. I wanted to know if he’d received the blueprints for the secret room from the owner of Safe-T-Construction.
Next I called Abernathy.
“It took him awhile, but my investigator finally found Grimaldi’s current address and phone number. I’m texting you the info.”
I hung up and read the text. Nico Grimaldi, the captain of the boat who swore to get even with Nathan Oliver, lived in Santa Monica.
After lunch, half the workers moved into the library to empty the bookshelves. The other half followed Susan and me into the family room to pack the baskets and antique toys.
Susan removed her iPhone from her pocket. “I’ll photograph each of these pieces in situ, then pack them separately. Because they’re so valuable, they, along with the watch collection and the paintings, will be transported in an armored vehicle to our warehouse. Everything else in the house can go in the big truck.”
The workers put on white cotton gloves, carefully lifted each basket from the shelf, and placed it on a nest of finely shredded excelsior in a reinforced cardboard container. Once I signed off, each box was sealed and carried to an armored truck sitting in the driveway.
As the gloved crew carefully enclosed the Early American toys in bubble wrap, I reached out for the wooden dreidel from Portugal, with the painted Hebrew letters, and put it in my pocket. Susan looked at me, her forehead wrinkled with a question.
“This stays with me.” I gave no further explanation. According to Harriet’s will, I could choose one of her possessions, even the most expensive item, for myself. The lovely little top, spun by so many generations of Jewish children, would be my keepsake.
At five, the movers cleaned up the coffee station in the kitchen, swept the floors, and left the premises.
Susan approached me to initial the manifest for the last of the boxes. “I’ll see you again at seven in the morning. We made very good progress today. Packing the few things upstairs should be much easier tomorrow.”
As soon as Carl and I were alone, I called Kessler again. “Did you get the information we wanted from the construction company?”
“Not yet. The owner’s stuck in Dallas. All flights canceled. Ice storm. He gets back tomorrow.”
Darn! Another day’s delay. I walked slowly through the bare rooms on the first floor. Of all the furniture, only the oak library table and chairs remained. I asked Susan to leave them behind so we’d have a place to rest. Nail holes punctuated the walls in the cavernous living room where framed paintings once hung. In the foyer, the likeness of Jonah, which had dominated the wall, was on its way to Children’s Hospital to one day hang in the wing bearing his name.
A few wooden crates packed with Oliver family heirlooms occupied one corner of the now-empty dining room. The cupboards and drawers in the kitchen were bare. Even the package brownies were gone. The boxes from the maid’s room containing the hand-embroidered linens, the Passover dishes, and the Talmud were also gone.
My footsteps echoed in the lonely spaces where a family once lived—and died. The very air felt heavy with mourning and loss.
Time to call the insurance agent. I joined Carl in the library and opened my purse. I found the business card Wish gave me at Harriet’s funeral.
He picked up on the second ring. “Emmet Wish here.”
I told him about the estate sale. “I wanted to let you know Harriet’s insured items have been removed to the auction house and are now covered under their policy.”
“Okay, but let’s keep Harriet’s policy intact until everything is sold. Just to be double sure.” He cleared his throat. “In cleaning out the house, did you ever find any trace of the missing books, the quilt, or the jewelry?”
“Not yet.”
“Very bad news, indeed. I sure hoped you’d have more luck.” He sighed. �
��I guess there’s no use delaying the inevitable. Time to prepare a claim for the stolen items.”
“Hold off on filing that claim. Harriet built a secret room. We don’t know the exact location yet. I’m just waiting to get the blueprints from the building contractor to find out how to get inside.” I listened hard for a reaction.
“No kidding! A hidden room?” He sounded surprised. “Harriet never mentioned it. I might have been able to get her rates lowered if I’d known.”
As I said good-bye to Wish, Malo walked in.
He clapped Carl on the back. “It’s six, dawg. Time to go meet that fine . . .” Malo stopped when he saw me. “Hola. You still here?”
“Yes, dawg. Hope you got your beauty rest today because there are still some valuables left to guard in this house. Everyone’s returning tomorrow morning at seven.”
Malo scratched the back of his head and looked at the floor. “Tonight’s my last night, boss. You’d better get a replacement if you still need someone.”
I stood and grabbed Arthur’s leash. “Thanks for letting me know, Malo. And thanks for all your help. If Susan and her crew clean out the rest of the house tomorrow, there’ll be nothing to guard, anyway.” I winked at Carl. “Have a nice time tonight.” I loaded Arthur in my Corolla and drove to Encino.
When I got back home, I realized tomorrow fell on a Tuesday, and Tuesdays were sacred. My friends and I always quilted together, no matter what. I called Lucy. “I have to be at Harriet’s house early. Can you and Birdie meet me there at ten? We can sew in the library while the workers pack the upstairs.”
“What about the blueprints? Did you find the room? I want to be there when you go in.”
“I don’t have the blueprints yet.” I explained about the bad weather in Dallas. “The guy is due back tomorrow. I’m certain the entrance is under the stairway, just like we thought. Arthur kept sniffing around there the same way he sniffed out Nathan’s grave.”
“See?” Lucy sounded relieved. “The Lord works in mysterious ways. Arlo dumping his dog on you turned out to be a good thing. Meet you mañana, and don’t you dare go in that room without us.”