Criminal Company: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 8)

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  “I remember her,” Jake said. “She was a stunner. Now, she wasn’t as good looking as Aunt Maud, or even as pretty as Lucille, who you were taking out while I was in college, but I tell you, Uncle Irving, you’ve never been seen with anybody but the best.” Jake grinned. “You’re not one to settle.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Now why would she marry that Schnitzer fellow?” Aunt Luddy murmured. “The one who came from Arizona, you mean, right? He didn’t have any money.”

  “A Schnitzer with no money? Unheard of.” Jake laughed.

  “When you get older, you’ll see how many cousins you suddenly have.” Aunt Luddy frowned. “The come from all corners, like mice. Especially the ones without any money. That’s why we have always valued The Dinner so well. Regularly meeting with loved ones to give, rather than all of those awkward lunches and dinners and people who want to “pop by” to see if they can take. The young folks may not want to come to The Dinner, but I tell you now, as you children grow old, you will value the comfort of a room full of people who want nothing for themselves.”

  “Uncle Irving,” Jane interjected, “Jake makes it sound like you were a notorious playboy.”

  Aunt Luddy giggled. “Oh dear, but he was! When we lost the Lovely Maud to cancer, he was only fifty, you know. And a handsome, rich, debonair fifty. All the eligible ladies in town wanted to be seen on his arm.”

  “But you never settled down again?”

  “I never was one to ‘settle’.” Uncle Irving smiled softly at Jane. “I had had thirty years with the most beautiful, intelligent, and kind woman who ever walked the planet.”

  “You certainly went around with other beautiful women,” Aunt Luddy said, “But I never did meet another woman as kind or intelligent as Maud. She was a doctor, you know, and went overseas with the Red Cross even after you married her. Shockingly scandalous, and I appreciated it. Took the attention right off my marrying a farmer. An Italian farmer.” She emphasized her husband’s background. “It wasn’t done. Not in the 40s. Italians were considered as bad as the Nazis, you know. My Rossi’s parents were put in an internment camp. They don’t talk about the Italian internment as much here in the west, but dear Mother and Father Rossi lived in New York at the time and were arrested just for being Italian during the war.” Aunt Luddy passed a hand over her unseeing eyes, shooing away the memories, if possible. “But who was that lady…the one with the fur coat…lovely woman…And wasn’t she a doctor as well?”

  “Lydia Halpern. Yes, she was a doctor, and she was lovely.” Uncle Irving smiled at the memory of the woman.

  “You should have married her, Irving. It’s not good to be alone at our age.”

  “You are probably correct.”

  A picture had been building in Jane’s mind as they spoke. The catch of the town with a brilliant, attractive woman on his arm. “Did she come to The Dinner with you twenty years ago?” Jane asked.

  “No.” Irving lifted an eyebrow. “But she had been to the Christmas party that Poor Phyllis used to throw for the family. More people came to that than to The Dinner. We did have fun at the Christmas party.”

  “How long had you been seeing this doctor?” Jane asked.

  “Lydia and I had been seeing each other for some time… several years.”

  “Yes! I can just picture her now,” Aunt Luddy said though she had lost her eyesight well before this love interest entered the picture. “Her voice was lovely, so correct.”

  “What did Dr. Lydia with the fur coat make of The Family?” Jane was still trying to figure out what she herself made of it. Local history come to life, that much she was sure of.

  “She wasn’t the kind of lady to be intimidated by anything.” Aunt Luddy said with a hint of awe.

  “Indeed, she was from a rather important family herself back east in Cincinnati, and extremely well-educated.” Uncle Irving explained.

  “You said she was a doctor?”

  “Yes, but not a medical doctor like Maud. Maud, the darling, was an individual. The first female graduate of her medical school. Lydia had a doctorate in music and taught at the University of Portland. It was quite a coup when they got her. She was—is—a very celebrated artist and educator.”

  “It was at the Christmas party that she played for us, wasn’t it?” Aunt Luddy asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “I will never forget the sound of it. This Lydia, the lovely woman, was an expert in sacred music. Poor Phyllis kept a harp and played very nicely, but nothing like Lydia. Lydia asked if she might play it—do you remember, Irving?”

  “I would never forget. It was her harp playing that made me fall for her. I met her, you see,” Irving said, “playing a benefit concert. I thought I was quite the rogue, sidling up to the help and asking for her number. Little did I know. I was very full of myself in those days, I wasn’t yet seventy when I first met Lydia, and I had no idea that she wasn’t anything more than a pretty girl hired to play background music.”

  Aunt Luddy laughed. “It’s funny to think of it now, these years later. It doesn’t feel like so much time has passed, when I remember, but then, Poor Phyllis has been gone for so long.”

  “Twenty years.” Uncle Irving repeated this number, a significant point in The Family, for many reasons, it would seem.

  “Poor Phyllis kept her house so hot. Do you remember? I don’t think I could ever forget. I showed up for the Christmas party with my son Gabriel, as he was in town and wanted to see his cousins. I wore a new cashmere sweater set thinking it was a casual Christmas eve with family, but Phyllis, who was as old then as I am now, was dressed for New Year’s Eve in Time Square. Her dress of shot through with real silver thread had thin straps, and I swear she told me she wore that dress to dinner with the Fitzgeralds when they came through town on a press tour together, don’t you remember? Called it her Zelda dress. I wonder who has that now. It would fit you, I think,” she said to Jane. “You’re so tiny.”

  Jane tilted her head to look at her blind-aunt-by-marriage. How did Aunt Luddy know her size? But Aunt Luddy had greeted her with a hug, her thin, porcelain hands had patted her back and squeezed her arms in a loving welcome, so she knew Jane’s general size and build.

  “She could afford to wear such a flimsy dress as she had her fire built up so that the rest of us were sweating. I believe I was wearing corduroy slacks that evening, assuming that Poor Phyllis’s drawing room with the two-story ceiling would be cold, as usual, but I ended up glistening, I truly did. Oh, but the fire smelled good. What do you think she was burning…I suspect her yule log. A nice thick spruce from the trees behind her home. Do you remember going back to their tree farm when you were a child? I think I’ll never forget it. Phyllis, she was the beauty of her generation, and we were just children…but that’s a different Christmas, isn’t it? Eighty years ago or more.” Aunt Luddy grew quiet, her gaze lost to the distant past. No one broke her moment of reverie. “This Christmas was the one where the lovely Lydia played for us on her harp. The fire glowed so brightly against the dark wood wall that I couldn’t turn my eyes from it. I do love a bright fire, I can see it and feel it so well. We don’t have fires like that these days. Certainly never in my home—I think, Irving, that only your home has a fireplace as large as Poor Phyllis’s was. And her tree was almost as bright as the fire, in the other corner of the room. ‘Phyllis, my love,’ I said to her, ‘It’s a rare treat for me, the way you have the room set up with something for me to see whichever way I look.’

  She embraced me, her dress warm to the touch. ‘But I did do it for you.’ Poor Phyllis said. ‘I know you’ve been having a terrible time with your sight the last few years and I wanted to give you a Christmas gift, something very special.’

  I glowed inside at that. I had always loved and admired Phyllis so, and here she had thought of me, just one of the many little cousins that were always underfoot when she was the toast of the town.” Aunt Luddy helped herself to another generous spoonful of ice cream. “I can’t tell you ho
w admired Phyllis was in her youth. There was nobody in this town who could touch her. And when she sat at her harp, with her pale arms stretched out over the strings, playing such lovely tunes…. But you see, she was a hobbyist, not a genius, and Lydia was a genius. Everyone knew who she was, and it was something special that the pretty young thing was seeing Our Irving. She asked permission before she so much as touched the harp. I was still standing with Phyllis when she asked.

  ‘My poor instrument’ Phyllis had laughed. ‘I would be honored, but it’s hardly worth your attention.’

  And Lydia had responded so perfectly, what had she said…” Aunt Luddy tapped her fork on the plate. “Yes, that’s it, ‘An instrument that is loved, as yours clearly is, is always an honor to play.’ And then she made her way to the harp. She began softly, but soon the room was filled with songs I’d only ever heard in church before. I couldn’t name them now, I’m sorry to say, but the notes seemed to begin at the tips of my toes and rolled up over me in shivers right to the top of my head. It was thrilling, and right there, with us. I will never forget that Christmas. I feel like I saw so much of it. I swear to you, though my son Gabriel didn’t believe me, that I could see Lydia’s hands going over and across those strings, each pluck, and trill of it. She had pale hands and dark fingernails and something sparkled on her wrists and fingers. I can see it as though I were there today.”

  “Lydia had a gift.” Uncle Irving said. “And even after all this time, I feel like it was an act of grace that she chose to spend her time in our town with me.”

  “What was up with the Schnitzer fellow? Did he steal your girl?” Jake asked.

  Uncle Irving sighed dramatically and winked at Jane. “He did, though he would claim I was the one who was trying to steal Lydia from him. They had known each other in Cincinnati. Eventually, Lydia and I grew apart, and when we had, she took up with him. They left for New Orleans, I believe it was. New jobs and fine weather waiting for both of them.”

  “So no duel at sunrise?” Jake asked. “And you’re sure you don’t need to send me down there to seek a little late justice?”

  Irving chuckled deeply. “If you had asked me fifteen years ago, young man, I might have had a different answer.”

  “Fifteen years ago I was a kid in school, so I wouldn’t have been much help.”

  “No, never send an ankle biter to do a man’s job.”

  “Had you wanted to marry her?” Jane asked softly. She had fallen in love with all of them during Luddy’s memory and felt very melancholy that Uncle Irving hadn’t had his second chance.

  “Remembering the way her music filled the room has completely transported me.” Aunt Luddy sipped her dessert wine. “A funny incident occurred that evening, Irving, I haven’t thought about it in so long, but it’s come back to me now.” Aunt Luddy’s expression shifted, just slightly, from one of transported joy to confusion.

  “What’s this? I hope you’re not worried over something twenty years old.”

  “Worried isn’t exactly the right word, but let me think…let me think if I can recall all of it.”

  “I was at the party.” Jake put in. “I was almost seven years old and dressed in an absurd sailor suit. Phoebe was dressed to match. Despite the years of good living, I had never seen a Christmas tree as big or bright as Poor Phyllis’s tree.” He leaned back in his chair and looked over his aunt’s head, mind lost in thought. “My cousins John and Will were there, just a little older than me, and we ran up and down the staircase—the back, servant stairs—until we were soaked in sweat. Then we hid from our parents because we knew we’d be in trouble. Phoebe was off being adored by all the aunts and uncles I think, but she wanted to run with us and had a complete fit when we left her. I wouldn’t say it was like yesterday, but when you described the music…” he turned to Jane. “I had never heard anything like that, and I don’t know that I have since. It was like if music was magic and magic was made out of candy, and we could eat it all. But it made us boys a little crazy, I don’t think we liked the feeling, that’s why we were running around.”

  Aunt Luddy laughed, “I remember you, boys! What a mess you were. Your footsteps going up and down and up and down. I don’t know that anyone else noticed, but I hear every little thing. Poor Phyllis was thrilled Lydia had played and thanked her profusely. ‘But no, you’re embarrassing me…’ That’s what Lydia said. She was a humble woman for all her correct ways.

  ‘My apologies.’ Poor Phyllis would never make a guest uncomfortable on purpose. ‘Let me get you something to drink.’

  ‘Just water, I think.’ Lydia said, ‘I have worked myself into quite a heat.’

  Aunt Phyllis led Lydia to the bar and served her, oh, from the sounds of it, I think she gave her water in a tall glass, over ice. All of the drinks sound so different, and water on the ice has the most refreshing sound. The two of them joined me, Lydia next to me on the sofa and Phyllis in a chair adjacent. Lydia smelled of limes and Chanel No. 5. Her water must have had a lime in it. ‘Thank you so much, that was a rare treat.’ I said, though I tried to keep my voice from going overboard, as she had seemed a bit uncomfortable with praise.”

  “She was like that. Too many sycophants in her life.” Uncle Irving agreed.

  “’It’s nothing. It’s my joy. I would play forever if I could but…’ And she held out her hands…I couldn’t see them like I thought I had when she was playing, but there was the movement, the swish of air and the sound the ice in her glass made as she moved.

  ‘Is it arthritis?’ Poor Phyllis asked.

  ‘Yes, and it’s getting worse by the day. I think….but I don’t like to think of it. I will play and I won’t think about the future.’

  Phyllis’s own hands were quite painful to her, as they would be, you recall she was very close to 100 years old. ‘I only have sympathy. I play in spite of the pain. I play what I can and remember what I used to be capable of.’ Poor Phyllis had the greatest sense of balance. Never a woman with more wisdom.

  “I reached over and took one of Lydia’s hands and held it in mine. Her knuckles were noticeably enlarged. ‘My poor dear…’ I stroked her fingers and let her hand go, but I noticed, on her left hand, the distinctive shape of a simple band with a single, large diamond. At the time, so overwhelmed as I was with the music, I didn’t think about it. Not until much later, when we were saying goodbye. She gave me her hands again, and I took them both in mine, squeezing them, but softly, saying goodbye. When she was gone, I realized that she had not had the diamond on her finger any longer.”

  “If the boys and I had known there was a jewel thief, it would have been the best family Christmas party of our lives,” Jake said.

  “I don’t think there was a jewel thief.” Aunt Luddy corrected him. “If her ring had been taken…but how could it have been? Who could have slipped a ring off her finger without her noticing? She must have removed it. Perhaps it was hurting her. Rings sometimes do, if your hands become swollen, and you remember the room was so hot, and she had played for us. No, it seemed strange that the ring was gone, but it must have put it in her bag, yes? Where she thought it was safe.”

  “Was the missing ring the strange incident?” Uncle Irving asked, almost sounding relieved.

  “It was the first piece of it.” Aunt Luddy had a sly smile. “I stayed with Poor Phyllis that night—Gabriel and I—we were to have Christmas together the next day, two lonely widows and my poor bachelor son.”

  “I bet Christmas at Poor Phyllis’s house was incredible.”

  “Only the best for Poor Phyllis, always. The food alone was worth more than I make in a year on my social security.” She folded her hands together in front of her plate, “But the night before, after everyone had left, the staff were cleaning up. She had hired caterers and a bartender to serve us. I had slipped away to the library where it was cooler, to sit with my feet up. Poor Phyllis had a radio in the library and I wanted to put on some Christmas music. As I passed the kitchen there was a terrible row.
The head caterer was yelling in Spanish, and a young lady was crying. I was married to dear Rossi long enough to have learned some Italian, and there are some similarities between the languages. I think the girl had been fired, on the spot, for taking something. She kept repeating she was going to give it to the lady, that she was just holding it, not taking it. but her boss didn’t believe her and fired her. The poor child said she had to call someone to collect her and take her home. My heart broke for the girl and so I made Gabriel offer her a ride.” Her smile turned especially sweet. “This was how he met our Aracely, as it turns out. I believe she was merely holding the ring. Such a sweet girl. A very nice daughter-in-law. And not as much younger than Gabriel as one might think. And such a good worker. Well, you know, that’s how things happen. I heard the fight and I sent Gabriel to take her home if she needed it. But putting the two incidents together…which I have done, from time to time, I think Aracely found Lydia’s ring, don’t you? And, dear Irving, perhaps you know something about it.”

  Uncle Irving cleared his throat.

  It was an absurd idea, the one Jane was toying with, nonetheless, it tickled her fancy. Her fingers went to her brooch again. Had this been Lydia’s engagement ring? Had she put it in her bag and then it had fallen out? Or maybe Aunt Luddy’s beloved daughter-in-law had gotten caught stealing it.

  “Lydia’s ring, you say?” Uncle Irving cleared his throat again, but something about his discomfort seemed a put on.

  “I don’t know, Auntie,” Jake said. “The six-year-old boy in me thinks it couldn’t have been as simple as that. I suspect she was robbed by pirates when she went outside for a breath of fresh air, and couldn’t tell anyone because…” He looked up as though trying to think of a reason.

  “Go on with you!” Aunt Luddy laughed. “Something perfectly simple happened, I’m sure. But what I wonder now, my dearest Irving, is what kind of simple band and diamond ring was Miss Lydia wearing on her left hand?”