“Tell you what, Margaret, call those people back and find out where the people they want served are located. We’ll do service on anyone south of the courthouse, ’cause we’re heading that way this afternoon. We’ll just have to pass on the rest of them. Suggest someone else to do the others.”
“What’s going on, Mavis?”
“Tell you when I get there. Go ahead and call those people and pick up the service on the ones I said, and meet me back at the office a.s.a.p. Okay? Just be sure you call that bank before you do anything else.”
“Right, Mavis. I wrote it all down. Want me to read it back to you?”
“No. I trust you, Margaret.” I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling, but luckily she couldn’t see me.
“Okay, Mavis. See you in a little while.”
I hung up the phone. Once more I was questioning my sanity regarding hiring Margaret. I had known her for years. In fact, we went through high school together and had been good buddies. I had worked and gone on to college, and she, to business school. When I opened my office, she applied for the job as sort of a girl Friday, which is what I needed. She was perfect for office work—a whiz at the computer and other business machines. The trouble seemed to be that she had been shorted on day-to-day, good-old-fashioned common sense. But she was a dear. It was hard not to like her. And she was true blue. I just had to learn patience.
I dried my hair and got into suitable clothes and drove out to the office where I waited for Margaret to return with the citations and subpoenas that we were to serve. By the time she arrived, Candy had also shown up. We started with a brief powwow so that I could bring them up to date, and I told Candy about the safe deposit box.
“So now you gotta get into her box, huh?” Candy asked. Candy had a lot of brains. I figured that one of these days she was going to become normal. Well, as normal as any of the rest of us, with one-color hair, two earrings at a time, regular solid-colored button-down-collar shirts, and plain blue jeans.
“Right, Candy. My guess is that Doris was hiding something in that box that is crucial to her identity or else that’s crucial to the reason why she was hiding.”
Margaret was nodding her head in agreement by this time. She was propped up at the computer as if she had made the assumption that I was going to dictate the solution to the case for her so that she could add it to our notes of yesterday. Candy was snapping her gum, six earrings dangling as she leaned up against the counter.
“How’re you going to get into the box, Mavis?” Margaret asked. I could see her watching my reflection in the monitor of the computer. Hopefully she didn’t catch my wink at Candy.
“Did she have an account at that bank, Margaret?” I asked without replying to her query.
“Oh no. No checking, no savings, no certificates of deposit, so then I even told them we couldn’t approve her for credit.”
“Good. That’s what I suspected. No connection with that bank except for her safe deposit box. That means that a minimal number of people have ever seen Doris Jones, right?”
The girls nodded, both sets of eyes questioning.
I pulled out the photograph of the group at The Rex and held it out for them to see, pointing to Doris. “That was Doris Jones.”
“Oh, I see,” said Candy, “the one with the blond hair.” She grinned conspiratorially at me and indicated Margaret with a jerk of her head.
“Right,” I said aloud. Margaret still didn’t seem to have caught on. “And here is the receipt she just got for renewing the rent on the box.” I showed both girls the receipt I had concealed in my pocket. “See her signature, Margaret?” I asked, smiling my sincerest and warmest smile.
“Yes, I see it, Mavis,” Margaret answered. “So what about it?”
“Think you can learn it in less than twenty-four hours?”
Margaret’s eyes grew quite large. “You mean you want me to forge Doris Jones’s signature at the bank?”
Candy’s eyes were dancing. I knew she would have gladly done it, but she had the wrong color hair. Besides, she was too young.
“Fortune smiled upon us, Margaret Applebaum, when you decided to bleach your hair blond. For in doing so, you became the perfect candidate to enter Doris Jones’s safe deposit box and retrieve the solution to the Mystery of Doris Jones.” I had pulled up a chair opposite of and to the side of Margaret and was staring into her eyes with the most pitiful look possible on my little freckled face.
“No. Oh, no, Mavis, that’s not part of my job description. I’m not going to jail for you,” Margaret said, shaking her head back and forth nonstop.
“Without you, two young girls may never know their mother is dead, Margaret. Without you, somewhere a husband will wonder forever what happened to his wife. Without you, Mr. Singleton will probably not give us any more money and Candy may be out of a job.”
“What?” Candy nearly shouted from where she stood on the other side of Margaret.
“We’ve been running pretty low on money lately, Candy,” I said sympathetically as I shrugged my shoulders. “With this case, our present financial problems would have been solved. But without it—well I’m sorry. Things are tough all over.”
“Aw, Mavis, I need this job. I was counting on working here all summer. I haven’t even applied anywhere else.” Candy was beginning the whine that was one of her most deplorable traits. I had been working on it with her, and she had been progressing. I don’t suppose I could blame her now though.
During this exchange, Margaret was sitting in her chair facing the monitor, a dazed expression on her face. Suddenly she said, “What two young girls?”
I grew excited. I had her hooked. I hoped. I pulled the second picture from my purse and flashed it at them. “This is Doris Jones with her family,” I said, confident that I was correct. “And I imagine that Doris Jones is not her real name.” I gave the photograph to Margaret to hold. Next I got out the letters and unfolded them. “Here, Margaret, read these letters from Doris’ daughter.” I gave them to Margaret to read while I paced the floor. That was all my ammunition. If Margaret refused, I was in big trouble. The thought of bleaching my own hair had crossed my mind, and it was not pleasing to me
Candy was standing behind Margaret, reading over her shoulder. After a short period of time, I heard one of them sniff. I’m not sure which one. I was silent, awaiting Margaret’s answer. “Okay, Mavis,” Margaret said softly. “What’s your plan?” I skipped back to her side of the room, grabbed her by the shoulders, and hugged her with all my might.
“You’re a pal, Margaret,” I said. “Now, this is what we do. We go out to the bank this afternoon and case it to see if we can figure out who the regular lady is that works in safe deposit boxes. Then tomorrow, when she goes to lunch, you enter the bank and approach her substitute. You’ll have Doris’ key and ask to get into your safe deposit box. You’ll sign Doris’ signature on the card that the lady presents to you and go in and remove everything that is in the box.”
Margaret looked worried. “Gee, I don’t know, Mavis. Suppose they’ve read the Houston paper and know that Doris has been murdered?”
“C’mon, Margaret, how many Doris Jones’s do you suppose are in this world? There’s probably a hundred of them in Houston alone. Besides, there wasn’t any picture, and the police don’t know about this box so they wouldn’t have told the bank. Don’t worry about it.”
“Easy for you to say,” Margaret said.
I just stared at her imploringly.
“Well, what if the regular lady takes her lunch and eats at her desk? Or what if she remembers me from today when we go in there?” Margaret asked.
Candy and I exchanged glances. Margaret was resisting and we had to bolster her courage.
Candy spoke up. “Mavis and I will go in there together today, Margaret, and we’ll go to new accounts or something and ask about their rates on CDs or something. You can stay in the car. Mavis and I will scope out the joint. Then tomorrow we’ll go in there separately, and when w
e’ve seen that the regular lady isn’t there, we’ll come out and tell you.”
“No, we won’t,” I said.
Candy stared. “Why not? I thought that was a good idea,” she said with a touch of whine again.
“We’ll go in there this afternoon, Candy, but I’ll go in there by myself tomorrow. You’ll still be in school when we have to leave to get down for lunchtime.”
“Aw c’mon, Mavis. I was gonna cut class.”
“No way. They’re not going to get me for contributing to the delinquency of a minor,” I remarked with a shake of my head.
“You’re asking Margaret to forge a signature and steal the contents of a safe deposit box, and you’re worried about a little contributing charge?”
“Yeah,” Margaret said.
“Look. I’m not jeopardizing Candy’s status at school. Besides, I don’t want Candy to be a part of all this. We shouldn’t even be discussing this in front of her, Margaret. She’s just a child.”
“Heavier shit than this comes down on the street in my neighborhood,” Candy said with a huge pout on her face.
“Well, you’re not getting out of school,” I said, ignoring her epithet. “I don’t care what you say. Margaret and I are supposed to be setting an example for you.”
“Aw, that’s not fair,” Candy whined. “You two get to have all the fun.”
“Like it or lump it, I’m not changing my mind. You can help today or you can stay here. Regardless of which you decide, we’ve got to get a move on before the bank closes this afternoon.”
“You know what, Mavis?” Margaret addressed me timidly. She wasn’t used to my being so firm about things.
“What?”
“I shouldn’t go this afternoon. I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to, but I shouldn’t even be seen in the car with you and Candy. Why don’t I stay here and answer the phone and practice Doris’ signature and you and Candy can go look at the bank and serve the papers.”
“You’re not going to chicken out on me tomorrow, are you?” I asked with my most intense look.
“No. Really. Think about it. It only makes sense that we don’t want to attract a lot of attention today,” Margaret said.
“Like, she’s right, you know, Mavis?” Candy said. “Let’s go. We’ll get an idea of the layout and we can tell her all about it when we get back.”
“We do attract a lot of attention when we’re all together,” I said. “Okay. Candy, get whatever you need. Margaret, you surprise me sometimes. Give me the papers.”
Candy went toward the kitchen.
“Thanks, Mavis,” Margaret said with a little smile. “There’s only three of them. Two subpoenas and one citation.” She grabbed a handful of folded-up papers off one of the desks and gave them to me. “I’ll study her signature real carefully, Mavis. I’m sure I can imitate it. Remember how I used to sign our mothers’ names to excuses when we skipped school?”
“Shh. Not so loud. We really do have to be better about setting an example for Candy, Margaret,” I said and grinned at the memory.
Margaret got up from where she sat and came over to me. “I’m scared, Mavis. What if I get caught?” She had a worried expression on her face.
I couldn’t answer her right away. I was scared, too. This was making me more nervous than the time I paid a home visit on one of my probationers and a huge, barking, German shepherd came outside to greet me. I smiled and patted Margaret’s arm.
“It’ll be all right,” was all I could manage.
“Ready, Mavis,” Candy called as she yanked open the front door and the bell clanked.
“See ya later,” I said over my shoulder to Margaret as I grabbed my shoulder bag and headed for the door. I couldn’t stand any more discussion about it. We just had to do it and that’s all there was to it. Necessity was the mother of invention and all that.
Candy insisted that we put the top down on my Mustang since the air-conditioning wasn’t working very well, so a few minutes later we were whizzing down Interstate 45 toward Dickinson, our hair flying in the wind. We planned to scope out the bank first, as Candy would say, and then get to serving the papers.
I swear when we entered the bank I felt like one-half of Bonnie and Clyde. If I recall, they used to run around in Texas, but I don’t think there was even a Dickinson back then, much less a Dickinson State Bank.
We went over to the new accounts desk and pretended that Candy was my daughter and was thinking of opening her first checking account. We had a nice chat with the girl there. She was pleasant enough, a brunette with dimples in her cheeks and a friendly smile. We asked her to point out all the services that the bank had to offer. She did so, including the safe deposit box area.
I went into a little more depth with the young lady while Candy pretended to get bored and wander around the bank. I asked about their rates on individual retirement accounts and certificates of deposit. We talked about treasury bills and the latest movement of interest rates.
Eventually, Candy returned and winked at me. We left, much to the enormous relief of everyone, I’m sure, including me, and on my way out I stole a look at the lady at the desk at the back of the bank. Now if it would only be that easy the next day.
CHAPTER TEN
Late Friday morning, Margaret and I headed back down the Gulf Freeway. Candy and I had briefed Margaret on what we’d found, and Margaret’s forgery of Doris Jones’s signature was excellent. There was no reason not to move forward although I’m sure Margaret was racking her brain to come up with one.
Rather than take a chance on things being a little different from what Doris would have done, I had taken the time the previous day to find the bus stop. That’s where I let Margaret out, and where I would meet her when she returned.
I drove to the bank parking lot, parked, went inside to see if the regular lady was gone, crossed through the bank to the door on the other side, and returned to Margaret to give her the go-ahead.
I sat near the bus stop and watched Margaret until she disappeared, and then I waited with what had to be bated breath for her to reappear.
What seemed like one-hundred-years later, I saw Margaret walking toward me. As she grew closer, I saw that her face was very white. She reached the car, got in, and to my “Well?” she only said, “Let’s go.”
I drove west toward the freeway for a few minutes, waiting for Margaret to break the silence. I was watching her more than the road. She was trembling all over like a person who was recovering from a severe shock. Suddenly she spoke.
“Pull over,” she demanded.
“What?” I asked, puzzled.
“Pull over to the side of the road,” she ordered in a loud voice.
I complied.
Margaret jerked the car door open, leaned out, and threw up all over the pavement. When she was quite finished, she pulled herself together, closed the door, and smiled weakly at me.
“That’s better,” she said, wiping at her mouth with a tissue.
“Are you okay?” I asked. I’d never known Margaret to be sickly.
“Yes, just nerves. But Mavis, it was the most exciting thing I’ve ever done in my life!”
She laughed then and held out a fist toward me. It was the first I noticed that her hand was clenching something.
I reached out and opened my palm to take whatever it was she was offering. Into my hand fell three golden rings.
One was a wedding band over a quarter of an inch wide; one was a diamond solitaire; the third was a school ring. My hands shook with excitement.
“We’ve got to talk about this, Margaret,” I said, handing back the rings. “Let’s drive up to the next exit and get something to eat someplace where it’s cool.” I pulled back onto the road and headed toward the interstate.
“How can you eat at a time like this?”
“My oral fixation. Tell me what school that one ring is from,” I said.
Margaret looked closely at the ring. “It says J.D., University of Texas School of Law.�
��
“Wow! A lawyer! Is it a woman’s ring? Try it on. See if it fits.”
Margaret slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand. I almost ran off the road trying to watch what she was doing. It wouldn’t go over the knuckle.
“I’ll bet it’s a pinkie ring,” said Margaret as she slipped it off her ring finger and onto her pinkie. “It is. It almost fits me. Mavis, Doris was a lawyer.”
“God—can you imagine?” I’m afraid I chortled.
“It must have been something really terrible for a woman lawyer to run off and leave her husband and kids and her profession,” Margaret said. She stared down at the ring on her little finger, stroking it with the thumb of her left hand.
My First Murder Page 6