by Lucy Kelly
Gilda looked down at the card. “A matchmaker?” she asked.
“Yes. How do you think we met Grace? Or you could take your granddaughter to the sci-fi convention next month. I believe Valerie and Miranda will both be there,” he said with a wink and left the store.
After they left, Gilda made sure Marta had taken all the trays and loose stones into the back. They would work on this commission after hours, upstairs. It wouldn’t do for word to get around that she had a quantity of valuable stones on the premises.
Twenty minutes after they left, the bell over the door rang again.
“Hello, Sir. What would you like me to show you today?” she asked with a smile.
Anton Kadyrov looked down at the old woman.
“My sister Grace was just in here. She’s been thinking of marrying a man our father doesn’t approve of. This is what she looks like,” he said, showing her a picture of Grace taken by one of the security cameras at the club.
“Oh, my, yes. Such a nice girl. She only left a little while ago. They seemed like such a happy couple. He bought her a very nice ring, and he was very polite. I’m sorry your father doesn’t like him. Such a nice young man…” she stopped speaking when he began to get red in the face.
“Shut up, you old woman!” and he punched her in the face, knocking her from her chair to the floor. Then he turned around and slammed his way out of the shop.
So the engagement is true, he’s bought her a ring. And from the quality in this shop, a good one, thought Anton as he strode away in anger.
Marta came running from the back.
“Granny G, what happened?”
“Ooh, my aching head! Help me to my chair, child. Then I think you should call the police.”
After Marta called the police, Gilda picked up the phone. She pulled out the paperwork from the sale, called Jett’s phone number, mumbling as it rang.
“What a rude individual! And if he’s her brother, I’m Aunt Fannie!”
“Hello, this is Jett.”
“Jett, dear, this is Gilda. After you left, there was a rather rude young man here. He said he was Grace’s brother and that their father didn’t approve of her young man. He was quite angry when he left…”
“Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine dear, don’t you worry about me,” said Gilda.
“Do you want us to come back?” he asked.
“You take care of Grace…”
“You’ll call if you need anything?”
“Of course I will…”
“You need to be careful, Gilda.”
“Yes, we’ll be careful…
“You promise to call if you need anything? Maybe we should come back anyway,” he said interrupting her again.
“Jett! We’ll be just fine. Just beware, that young man is evil. You don’t need to come back; Marta already called the police,” said Gilda.
“Wait a sec. Grace asks that you don’t tell the police our names.”
“Okay.”
“She also says you can call Captain Udaka of the 18th District.”
“Captain who?” she asked.
“Udaka, you’ll remember that?” asked Jett.
“I’ll remember,” she said.
“And call if you need help. Actually, I want you to call later anyway and let us know how you’re doing.”
“Alright. Bye, now,” and she hung up the phone.
Such a worrier, she thought with a cluck of her tongue.
As she was hanging up, two uniformed officers came into the store.
She turned to Marta.
“Marta, I have these two nice officers to see that no one hurts me. Would you go and make me a cup of tea?”
“Right away, Baba G. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?”
“I’ll be fine with these two nice young officers; you weren’t even here when that rude young man came in so they don’t need to talk to you. And I really would like a cup of tea, extra sugar.” Then she turned back to the officers.
The patrolmen could already see a bruise forming on the old lady’s cheek. Violence against the elderly really steamed them both. They began to ask questions and she told them an abbreviated version of events.
“Well, a nice girl came in today with her young man and they bought an engagement ring and wedding bands. Then about fifteen minutes later, this angry young man came in. He said he was the girl’s brother, which was strange because she told me she didn’t have a brother. I was just explaining what a lovely couple they made and he told me to shut up and then he hit me. Yes, knocked me right out of my chair.”
Marta came hurrying back with her tea and she took it. “Thank you, dear.”
After taking a sip, she turned back to the policemen.
“Well, then he just slammed out of the store, didn’t say another word, just left. He was the last person to leave. You’ll probably find his fingerprints on the doorknob. Oh, and he slapped his hand on the counter, too. He had a rather gaudy blue sapphire signet ring on his right hand with two initials: an A and a V.”
“Oh, I’m so stupid. Wait just a minute. I must be more rattled than I thought. Now you gentlemen just sit over there at the table and Marta will bring you some cookies. I’ll just draw his picture; I’m an artist, you know. You have to be, to make jewelry. And I’ll draw that ring for you, too.”
She looked at the officer on the left a little closely. When Marta came over with the cookies and some coffee for the officers, she waved her over and whispered in her ear. Then she took out a pad and pencil and started drawing.
Marta put the tray on the table and went into the back. A few minutes later, she came out with a flat box. Sitting down with the officers, she shrugged and opened the box.
“These are all excellent birthday gifts and they are also good for anniversaries and graduations. All the pieces in this box are under a hundred dollars,” said Marta.
She looked at them when they stared at her in shock.
“Don’t ask, she always knows. One of you is having an anniversary soon? Or a birthday?” she asked.
“Damn, Ryan, she’s right. Isn’t your anniversary next month? And didn’t you forget last year? Oh, man, the lady’s got you pegged, alright. It seems like she’s saving your bacon.”
“Well, what about you, O’Grady? You’ve got kids. Do you have any birthdays coming up? You’d better call your wife.”
So while Gilda drew, Marta steered the two officers towards gifts that would be appropriate for a wedding anniversary and a sweet sixteenth birthday. Officer Ryan got a vintage lapel watch with marcasite and small diamonds. Officer O’Grady bought a vintage oval-shaped gold locket with an ivory cameo on the front. They had both made arrangements to pay when Gilda spoke up.
“Done. This is what that nasty man looks like.” And she held out the paper.
Officer Ryan picked up the paper. “Oh, shit. Excuse my French.”
And he handed the picture to Officer O’Grady.
“Ma’am, this is a very bad man. He and his grandfather are very well connected. We’ve been trying to put them away for a very long time.”
“Well, now you have me!” said Gilda.
“Yes, we do. And some of the jury will believe you even though he’ll have twenty other people to say he was somewhere else at the time you were being battered. That’s if you make it to the trial. Witnesses against him tend to disappear.”
“I’m an old woman; I’m willing to take the risk. He is a monster and monsters should be stood up to, we’ve learned that lesson. But I’m not going to risk my granddaughter. I have to make sure she is someplace safe.”
She looked at them closely. “How much time can you give me before you file that report? Since I’m injured, will I need to come in and sign a statement, or can you fill it out now?
“I’m asking these questions because I have a place to disappear to, but if the bad guys find out I’m coming in, they might follow me. I watch cop shows on TV; I know what could h
appen,” she said.
“Our shift is up at nine thirty; that’s in four hours. We’ll turn in the paperwork then. You come in right at nine and sign-off on the report. The bruises on your face will be very colorful by then and we’ll have one of the female police officers take pictures of your injuries for the file. Give us this picture when you come in, that way we won’t ‘officially’ know who the perp is. That will give you time to stash your granddaughter. I can tell you now, our Sergeant is going to be mad, but a certain Captain will be very happy.
“The Assistant State’s Attorney assigned to the case is going to need to depose you or at least question you before trial. Get some of those throw away phones. Use a different one each time you call in. Always call from a busy place and don’t stay on the phone longer than ten minutes. Take out the SIM card and the battery and throw the phone away each time you use it and then get a new one. It’s the best way to make sure you’re not traced,” said Officer Ryan.
“And throw the phones away in a separate location from where you made the call. They will have officers looking for the phones to track where you bought them,” said Officer O’Grady.
“I sure wish I knew you were going to be alright,” he added.
“Don’t you worry about me; I’m a tough old broad. I’ll be just fine. You go on now, and take these gifts with you. No, you can’t pay me. That nasty man’s lawyers might find the payments and say you bribed me. No, no, you donate the price to charity. My husband left me well off, I keep the store open because it keeps me busy and I’m training my granddaughter, so no arguments now.”
“But Ma’am, what if they find out we got them from you and didn’t pay?” asked Officer Ryan.
“Those are vintage pieces. You could have gotten them anywhere, even a garage sale. Looks like you both have great taste. Don’t worry about that. It’ll be one less thing for Marta to carry out of the store. We’ll have to close up and take all of our stock with us.
“Don’t look so glum. Why, just today I received a huge commission that will keep me working for months. I was going to close up the shop for a while anyway. Now, you go on …Oh, I forgot. Do you want your crime scene people to come and take fingerprints and stuff? You make sure and don’t let them lose the evidence, okay?”
“Don’t you worry, Ma’am, we won’t. Now, we’re going to sit outside in our car and wait for the crime scene guys to show up. That may take a while.”
After they left, Gilda turned to her granddaughter.
“Marta, now I want you to do as I say, right down to the letter. Do you promise?”
“Yes, Grandma,” said Marta looking at her grandmother with new eyes.
“First, bring me my chair and the to-go case. Then I want you to run down to the drugstore on the corner and buy some of those pay-as-you-go phones. Pay cash for them, and – actually, don’t go to that drugstore; they know you there. Go to a new store, where they don’t know you. Then come back here lickety split.”
Marta brought her grandmother her wheelchair and helped her into it. While she went out the back door, Gilda emptied the contents of the display case into a special rolling to-go case. She undressed all her displays every night and rolled the case into the massive wall safe in the back. There was a time when the many drawers in the safe would be full, when her family store included the space next door.
After her husband’s death, times were hard. The money that should have been in their savings account wasn’t there. She’d held on to the building because they owned it free and clear. Then she partitioned off this small space and leased the larger showroom. She also kept the apartment upstairs where they had always lived. Marta felt they should move because the stairs were so hard for her. She had put in a stair lift instead. She was a shrewd businesswoman. The lease brought in enough money to pay for the building upkeep and taxes. And she was well-known in the jewelry-making community. Working mostly by commission, she didn’t really need a big storefront. Looking around the store now, at all the memories, she knew she would miss it.
She shook off her melancholy mood and wheeled into the back and packed up all the valuable supplies she used to make jewelry. She stood up, ignoring the grinding pain in her hips to pack up all of their hand tools. She didn’t use a cash register, just a ledger book and an adding machine. She packed up the ledger book and put the contents of the moneybox into her bank bag. Thirty minutes later, she’d completely packed up her shop. The things that were too big to take, well, she was getting enough from this commission to replace them.
A few minutes later, Marta came back in through the back door.
“I went down ten blocks, Baba G, but then I had to find a store. Sorry it took so long. Hey, you already packed everything up.”
“That’s alright. Next I want you to take this note, this key, and your backpack. Run down to the bank and go into our safe deposit box. You’ll have to see Miss Shapiro, give the note to her. Since you’re not officially on the box as a signer, she’ll have to get you in. Take my driver’s license, too; she’ll recognize my handwriting.”
“Okay, but only if you promise to stay in your chair. What am I going to do if you hurt yourself?” she asked, giving her grandmother a look.
“Alright, I promise, I won’t lift a finger,” Gilda said.
This time, while Marta was out of the store, she placed a call to her old friend Ethel, who worked at a store three doors down and asked her to come to the back door. Ethel arrived a few minutes later.
“Gilda, you sounded so anxious. Your face! What has happened?” exclaimed Ethel. “Wait, before you tell me, I’m going to make you a cold compress and get you some aspirin.” She ran up the stairs and was back down in a few minutes.
“Here, take the aspirin first,” she said, handing her the tablets and then the glass of water. Next she handed over a plate with a cold wet washcloth on it.
“Now, I’m ready to hear the story,” said Ethel.
“A monster on two legs came in and knocked me down for no good reason,” she started saying.
She went on to relate the story to her friend and ended with, “So I’m leaving town for a while. Marta’s at the bank pulling our important papers and the best loose stones. I have enough money to cover the outstanding bills, only I don’t have time to sit down and take care of all that.”
“You don’t even have to ask. I’d be happy to take care of that for you,” said Ethel. “Is there anything else you need?”
“One other thing; I finished the necklace you wanted me to design for your grandson. The one he wanted for his wife? Here it is, with a check to cover the bills.” Gilda handed her the necklace and an envelope with her outstanding mail and a check for almost the entire balance in her account.
Putting the envelope under her arm, Ethel opened the black velvet jewelry case. “Gilda, you’ve outdone yourself. It’s perfect for her. He’s a smart man, my grandson. A woman gives you triplets, she deserves a beautiful reward like this.”
“It’s lucky his family is in the business. Send him my best wishes for his wife and the new babies. My to-go box here has all the jewelry from the display cases. Take it to your store and sell it on consignment, fifteen percent commission; I won’t quibble. Use the rest to cover the insurance and other expenses on the building. I don’t know when I’ll get back. If we had time, I’d add you on as a signer on the account. It would be so much easier. But that might make you a target and I don’t want to risk it, anyway.” Her mind was racing as she tried to think of everything. Putting down the cold cloth, her face did feel much better. She didn’t like to mention that her shoulder hurt much worse.
“One last thing: I need to disappear. It’s best you don’t know where we are. And it’s also best no one else does either. Go around to the others and give them the news. Ask them to stay away; we don’t need this person bothering my friends. You’ll explain? Make everyone understand?” Gilda asked.
“Of course I will, but I’ll wait until after you’ve gone. Tell
them tomorrow. Now, I’ve thought of something else, you didn’t think of it, so points for me!” Ethel said with a grin. She was happy to see a smile on her friend’s face.
“I’ll go to the post office and ask them to hold all your mail. Give me the key to your post office box and some deposit slips. That way I can deposit your rent checks from next door. You find a way to contact me, okay? I know your handwriting so send me a letter. Or call if you get a chance. Have Marta show you how to pay your bills online. We’ll drag you into this century yet, Gilda,” she finished with another grin. It was well known that Gilda liked to do things the old fashioned way. She still had the same black rotary dial phone she had thirty years ago.
“I’m going to miss you, Ethel. I will contact you when I can. I’m going to have to come back to testify, anyway. I’ll see you then. Now shoo, Marta will be back soon. If that bad man comes back, I don’t want you here,” said Gilda.
“Bah! I’ll leave when Marta returns and not one minute sooner, Gilda Cohen Levin! Now, there will be no more arguments. Here, I will clean up this mess.”
She was about to use the damp cloth to wipe off the display case, a matter of habit in their industry. Gilda stopped her just in time with a reminder of the fingerprints the police needed. A very sheepish Ethel left ten minutes later when Marta returned.
“You called Auntie Ethel over. I’m glad you weren’t alone,” said Marta. Ethel Mitnik wasn’t really her aunt. But she’d grown up watching the two women spending time together and socializing. They often were invited to Shabbat dinner on Fridays at the Mitniks. She put down the backpack next to Gilda and asked her what she should do next.
“Now, go upstairs, pack up my jewelry case, my two black photo albums, your grandpa’s picture on my bedside table and the brown wooden box on the top shelf in my closet. Don’t pack a lot of clothes, just enough change and underwear for a week. Oh, and don’t forget my medicines. These are nasty people and they’ll break in here and go through our things. So take whatever means the most to you and leave the rest.”