The Chocolate Kiss-Off (The Persephone Cole Vintage Mysteries Book 3)

by Heather Haven

  Pulling out her keys, Percy could hear the muted strains of the radio playing Glenn Miller’s Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree with Anyone Else But Me and looked at her watch. Seven-thirty. She visualized the events that usually take place right before this time.

  Dinner would be over and Oliver in bed. Mother, having cleaned the kitchen, would be listening to the radio, waiting for one or both of her daughters to come home. The thought gave her a warm rush. After she unlocked the door, she pushed it open on silent, well-oiled hinges.

  Percy shook the last of the wet snow off her coat before entering and hung it up on the coat rack just inside. She sloughed off her boots and crept on sodden socks down the hallway to her son’s bedroom door.

  A grin covered her face when she saw the bed holding her sleeping son, who smiled and twitched in his dreamland state. Even the dog lying stretched out beside him, seemed to be smiling and twitching in the same dream.

  Crossing the room on tiptoe, she reached out a hand and smoothed the hair back from his face. His coal black hair reminded her in that instant of Leo, which caused her to frown. Was Leo the Louse also Leo the Murderer?

  Oliver stirred under the soft touch of his mother’s hand.

  “Hi, Mommy.” His voice was merely a whisper, softer than a breeze. Percy felt a lump come to her throat. The dog stirred at his side, tail thumping in a slow, sleepy rhythm.

  “You go back to sleep, Oliver. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”

  “Love you, too, Mommy.” His voice was groggy, almost unintelligible, but one a mother understands.

  In that moment, Percy wanted to lie down between son and dog for the rest of her life, cuddling between the two warm bodies. Instead, she kissed her son on the forehead and gave the dog a soft pat on the head.

  On the other side of the door, her pragmatic nature came back, along with a smile.

  Persephone Cole, here and now, you are one lucky woman. Stop looking for trouble that may never land on you.

  Still hearing the radio from the parlor, Percy went to her bedroom, ripped off her wet socks, and put on the warm slippers given to her by Sera for Christmas. She ignored the hems of her still wet trousers, left her room, and crossed to the parlor.

  “It’s me, Mother,” Percy said, before giving the door a gentle shove open. At seeing the couple sitting together on the sofa, Percy interrupted herself in happy surprise. “I – Pop! How…When did you get here?”

  His favored leg was propped up on the coffee table. Both arms were wrapped around his wife, who in turn, was snuggled into him. A contented look covered both their faces.

  Utter bliss these two, Percy thought. Utter bliss.

  The couple disentangled themselves as Percy laughed. “Well, I hope I interrupted something.”

  “Now, Persephone, you keep a respectful tongue in your head,” her father said severely, but with a wink. “Mother and I have been waiting for you to get home. You look all done in.”

  With one arm still around Mother, he extended the other, beckoning to his daughter. Percy came over to his side and sat down.

  “Welcome home, Pop, but what happened? Is the job over? Did you catch the spies? And how did you get here? In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a blizzard going on in the tri-state area.”

  “Up to the Great Lakes, too. Don’t want to be out in this weather if you can help it.”

  Mother rose before Pop could say more, and looked down at them both. “I’ll let you two talk, while I go in and heat up your supper, Persephone. Have you been in to see Oliver?”

  Percy nodded.

  “I was sure you would have. Such a good boy. In the morning, you’ll have to let him show you the three snowmen he and little Freddie made in the courtyard, if they aren’t buried under six feet of snow by then. Serendipity helped the boys dress them, by using all our spare hats and scarves.”

  “I thought Sera had a date tonight, Mother.”

  “The young man cancelled it. Robert. You remember him. Such a nice boy. Home on leave. Said he had to go to the Bronx to help dig his parents out of the snow. But she had a fine time with the boys. I watched them out the window while I was cooking supper.”

  Percy was only half listening, but when Mother stopped talking, the silence brought Percy back. She looked over at her mother, as if seeing her for the first time.

  “I want to thank you, Mother, for all you do for the family, and for my son and me. I know I don’t say it often enough.”

  “Amen to that, daughter.” Pop reached out and took his wife’s hand in his and pulled her toward him. “We’re all blessed with this fine woman I married forty-something years ago.”

  “Ah, go on,” Mother said, braking free and shaking the compliments off with a wave of her hand. ‘I’m leaving before you two become as maudlin as a Lillian Gish movie.”

  With a laugh, she left the parlor for the kitchen. They watched her as she closed the door and listened to the pad of her feet down the hall. Finally, Percy turned to her father.

  “So what happened, Pop? I didn’t think I’d see you until next week at the earliest.”

  Pop’s face sobered. The light-hearted banter was replaced by a sense of gravity.

  “It came to a head around eleven this morning. About twenty officers surrounded the florist shop, bullhorns blaring, demanding the three men inside give themselves up. Two of them were killed trying to shoot their way out. The third, a lad of seventeen, was found in back, shot by his own hand rather than be arrested. It was a sad thing.”

  Pop was silent, lost in his thoughts. Percy took his hand.

  “Sounds like a bad day. I’ve had one myself. Not to play Can You Top This, but I found Bogdanovitch’s body this morning in the freezer at the chocolate factory.”

  “Good Lord. You okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “That the man who was the new manager, who took the job away from our Howard?”

  “Yeah. Cops think his death was accidental, locked himself in.”

  “But not you.”

  She shook her head. “The same person who killed Carlotta turned Bogdanovitch into a frozen popsicle. Too bad I couldn’t see him through the window before I opened the hasp that was closed over the lock. Sort of shot myself in the foot with that one. Messed with the evidence.”

  “These things happen, Persephone.”

  She shook the mood away. “Never mind, Pop. You still didn’t tell me how you made it home in this blizzard.”

  “Pete Hopper, he was my direct boss, wanted to get back to New York for his wife’s birthday tomorrow. He’s never one to let the elements get the better of him. He hired himself a snow clearing truck – what do they call them things?”

  Percy shook her head, thrown for the moment.

  Pop went on, “It’s got a shovel on the front end that just plows through the snow like it isn’t even there.”

  “A snowplow?”

  “That’s it! A snowplow. It’s the big words that get me, Persephone.”

  They both laughed at his joke, more so than they normally would have. For a moment the tension lifted.

  “It’s good to have you back, Pop.”

  “It’s good to be here. Anyway, Pete invited the two of us who live in Manhattan to jump in and ride back with him. We had fifteen minutes to get all our gear together before he left. We were ready in ten. It was a slippery six-hour ride, but by God, we got here.” Pop gave out a loud laugh then looked at his daughter for a moment. “You stop off at the Goldbergs before you come up?”

  “I did, Pop. Told them what I know, which isn’t much. They seem to be doing okay.”

  “They got their faith. Did Adjudication tell you he’s heard there’ll be a five-thousand dollar bail set for Howard Monday morning?”

  Percy raised her eyebrows. “No, I haven’t talked to him today. Been kind of busy falling over dead bodies.”

  “The Goldbergs don’t have most of the bail money. They might scrape together a thousand. Of course, Howie
has something set by. And the neighbors are offering a few dollars here and there. Good people all, but...” He broke off and stroked his daughter’s hand with his.

  “But things are tight, Pop.”

  “The depression still holds a lot of folks in its grip. I thought we’d offer the eight-hundred we got squirreled away, but you’re a part of that, so you need to give me your okay.”

  “Sure, Pop. We’ll get it back. Howie’s not going to skip bail.”

  “That’s what Adjudication says. He’s going to take a loan out on his house for whatever comes up missing.”

  Percy smiled. “It looks like the Goldbergs not only got their faith, they got us.”

  “They’d do the same for us in a heartbeat.”

  Percy nodded, absentmindedly. Pop studied her.

  “Something else is troubling you, Persephone. What is it?”

  Percy sat upright.

  “It’s Leo, Pop.”

  “Mother mentioned Oliver asked about his father. It’s to be expected, Persephone. You couldn’t put it off forever.”

  “I know. But like a lot of things, it’s taken an unexpected turn.”

  While she explained the latest events, her father rested his head on the back of the sofa, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

  “So if I’m understanding this, either Oliver’s father is dead these three years, or he may have put someone else behind the driver’s seat of a burning car and left the country to avoid the draft. Bad scenarios, both.”

  “If there’s a better scenario, I’d like to know what it is. Even if he didn’t kill anybody, and his wallet was stolen, where is he? I should never have looked into it. When Mrs. Donovan told me Leo died three years before, I should have just let it go at that.”

  “Well, first of all, that’s not your nature. You check things out. You don’t believe hearsay. You were brought up better. Besides, if I remember rightly, Kathleen Donovan is an emotional sort woman, apt to blame others for faults that should be laid at her son’s feet. That’s why he never grew up enough to assume the responsibility of a wife and family.”

  “Maybe so, Pop. But I’m left with how much to tell Oliver when the time comes.”

  “You tell him what he needs to know and we’ll all be there for him.”

  “Yeah, Pop, you’re right.” Percy let out a long, deep sigh. “While we’re laying it all out there, Leo and I were never divorced. I kept meaning to, I just never did.”

  “I know. Adjudication told me tonight he offered to file for you back then and you said no. Mother and I thought you took care of it before you moved back home. Maybe you thought Leo’d come back to you?”

  She shook her head. “It was the money, Pop. It would have cost me twenty-five hard-earned bucks to divorce Leo, even with Jude’s help.”

  “And you were hurt and angry.”

  Percy closed her eyes and thought for a moment, ready to protest. Memoires swirled in.

  “I figured let Leo spend the money; after all, he’s the one who left. And then life went on and I kept putting it out of my mind. What I don’t understand is why I didn’t get notified when the accident happened. I was still legally his wife.”

  “Hmmm. That’s a good question, Persephone. Bears looking into. I see a trip for me down to the Hall of Records first thing Monday morning.”

  “Still got your beer drinking buddy working there?”

  “Avery? Yes. But our visits to the beer gardens are less and less.”

  “Pop, while you’re there could you look into a few other things?”

  “If that’s what you want. Won’t that be stepping on Fred Rendell’s toes, though? How’s he doing, by the way?”

  “Better than most, Pop. But for as good as Rendell is turning out to be, he still needs more training. If you could run a few checks, it would help me out. I need to be at the chocolate factory first thing Monday morning. The cousin inheriting the place should roll in from Chicago and the workers will be returning.”

  “Course I will, Persephone. With my bum leg, sitting in a warm office looking up facts and figures sounds like heaven. What do you want me to do?”

  Percy pulled out a sheet of paper from a pocket. Neat writing went down almost to the bottom of the page. She handed it to her father. Pop let out a whistle.

  “Quite a list.”

  “They’re in order of importance, so do what you can. Here’s the first thing though, Pop.” Percy reached inside her jacket’s breast pocket, and pulled out the small, folded paper.

  “This is a birth certificate. The baby girl was named Marianna and she was born at St. Vincent’s Hospital on the Upper East Side. Maybe there’s information about orphanages or religious orders that took in the unwanted babies. Maybe the mid-wife remembers something.”

  Pop nodded.

  “Thanks.”

  “But for tomorrow, Persephone, you’re going to rest and visit with your family and your son. No working on Sunday. Them’s the rules.”

  Percy chuckled. “I remember no matter how hard you worked, you always took Sunday off for us kids.”

  “You bet, Persephone. I always knew what was important.” He lifted his game leg from the coffee table with care, and stood up on it with a slight wince. “Now come on to the kitchen. Mother has a surprise for you.”

  “She already told me. Pineapple and sauerkraut. Not looking forward to that.”

  “Well, don’t tell her I told you, but she deliberately didn’t mention the ham she managed to get with her rationing coupons. She wanted to surprise the family.”

  “Ham? You don’t mean Spam, do you?”

  “I mean ham.”

  “There’s a ham in the house?”

  “Enough for a week, if we’re careful.”

  “Well, if I didn’t know how lucky I was before, I know it now.”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Even though it was not quite seven am, Vinnie was almost finished clearing snow from the front of the store. The sharp sounds of his shovel striking and scraping snow off the cement had a steady rhythm to it. Other than that, silence. The usual sounds of traffic or humanity going about its business were nowhere to be heard. The city hadn’t had time to dig itself out yet.

  Huffing and puffing, face red from exertion, Vinnie looked up with a slight smile at the approach of two people. Percy, Fred Rendell at her side, stopped in the cleared section of the sidewalk. All three people were bundled up in the cold, their breaths rising warm against the frigid air.

  “Almost looks like Brooklyn’s in lock down, doesn’t it?” Percy smiled from one man to the other. Each nodded in agreement, even though she was sure Vinnie had no idea what ‘lock down’ meant.

  The snow stopped falling only a few hours earlier, burying the city under six feet of snow. Then the temperature plummeted to the low teens and held there.

  Percy looked up, blinking at the burning sharpness of the air. Above was a clear sky that often follows a bad winter storm. Fluffy snow had already turned to hard ice.

  Somewhere underneath all that ice Ophelia lay buried in the adjacent parking lot. Percy might be riding the subways for several days until she could dig the car out.

  “Vinnie, this is my business associate, Fred Rendell. You’re to give him the same cooperation you give me.”

  Percy smiled winningly at Vinnie, whose face turned even redder.

  “Rendell, this is Vinnie. He’s been helping me out around here.”

  Both men nodded again, this time to one another.

  “The cousin here yet, Vinnie?”

  “No, signora. But this on door.”

  He pulled out a telegram addressed to Ronald Bogdanovitch from the pocket of his worn woolen coat and handed it to Percy. Without hesitation, she ripped it open and read with greedy eyes. She then turned to Vinnie, who had continued his shoveling.

  “Apparently Paulo Mendez is snowbound in Cleveland and won’t be coming in until sometime tonight, at the earliest,” Percy said to both men. She shoved the tel
egram into a pocket and moved to the front door. “Until then, I’m in charge. Let’s go inside, Vinnie. You can finish that later. I wonder how many employees will make it in today?”

  “We didn’t have any trouble getting here by subway from Manhattan, ma’am,” offered Rendell.

  “Most of these people don’t travel far, do they, Vinnie?”

  “No, signora. They live the near. Except for Shot-see.” Vinnie said, as he propped the shovel against the outside wall.

  “Yeah. Helga Appelman,” Percy said. “I noticed she comes in from Queens. Got to be a full hour away by subway.”

  Vinnie nodded and dutifully stood behind Percy as she unlocked the door. She stepped inside followed by the two men.

  “Brrr,” said Rendell. “It’s almost as cold in here as it is out there.”

  “Sure is,” said Percy. She turned to Vinnie. “Let’s get some heat going. You know where the furnace is?”

  “Si, si. But Signora Carlotta no like the heat turned on until business open.”

  “She’s not with us, anymore, and chances are Mr. Bogdanovitch won’t be dropping by, either.” Unless we hold a séance. Aloud she said, “So I’m in charge, assisted by Mr. Rendell. Go stoke the boiler or whatever it is you have to do.”

  Vinnie nodded, turned and headed for the boiler room at the back of the building.

  Percy and Rendell trailed behind as far as the workroom. There Vinnie’s niece, Teresa, was counting and moving about pieces of candy on the conveyor belt designated to be covered with chocolate. She looked up and offered Percy and Rendell a radiant, but shy smile then returned to work. They mounted the stairs to the office.

  “You know what occurs to me, Rendell?” Percy closed the door to the office and crossed to Bogdanovitch’s desk.

  He shook his head. “No ma’am.”

  “It occurs to me that nearly anyone knowing anything about the chocolate business is either in jail or dead. I wonder how much Vinnie knows? He used to work in a chocolate store back in Italy.” She turned and yelled down.