I had lunch in front of Gracie Mansion. The mayor still had the "flu" and hadn't made any public appearances since we last met. I wondered if he was thinking about me, if he wanted me the way I wanted him. I wondered what Bob had told him. What they were planning. Bob sat several benches down. I thought about asking him then changed my mind.
Oysters
I was ten minutes early to meet Hugh. The maître d' at the Métrazur seated me in the mezzanine, Grand Central spread out below. The clock in the center of the marble floor marked each minute that passed. The ceiling, an unreal green blue with the constellations painted in thin gold lines, curved above me.
I ordered a gin martini and watched people hurrying below. There was a family, clearly from somewhere else, trying to figure something out. The father was smacking a schedule with the back of his hand while his wife rolled her eyes. Their daughter leaned on her Barbie suitcase and looked up at her parents bickering, bored.
I sipped and shuddered as the cold liquid filled my mouth and burned my tongue. Hugh arrived moments later and ordered a martini for himself and a dozen oysters to split. He smiled at me. I could tell he hadn't been sleeping. "How've you been?" I asked.
"As good as can be expected."
"Same here."
"We both look like shit, huh?" Hugh smiled through chapped lips.
I smiled back. "Yeah. But we'll be OK," I said.
He shrugged. "I hope. I don't know if I can do it on my own."
"What do you mean?"
"I've been thinking about seeing someone."
"I think that's a great idea." His martini arrived, and he sipped it deeply.
"I think people always think it's a good idea for other people to see a therapist." I laughed. "What about you? Don't you think you could use some help dealing with this?"
"I'm alright. I've decided to leave."
"New York?"
"Yeah, I don't want to be here anymore." I looked out at the crowd below us. The family was gone. Bob read a magazine near the information booth.
"Where will you go?" I turned back to Hugh.
"I don't know. Just not here."
"I didn't think you would ever leave New York."
"Neither did I."
"When did you decide this?" Our oysters arrived. Twelve mollusks from the Atlantic Ocean, split open, laid on a bed of crush iced and served to us. I picked up a shell, squeezed lemon onto the grey, slimy creature inside and then tipped it toward my mouth. The shucker had separated the oyster from his shell for me, so it slid easily. I chewed, feeling the life, the insides, burst against my cheeks.
"Very recently. That's why I called you. I wanted to tell you I was leaving," I said. "I hope you'll visit me wherever I go."
"Of course Joy." He looked at me for a moment and then continued. "Please don't make yourself invisible."
"What do you mean?"
"Joy," he rubbed at his temples. "We both know how easy it is to disappear. Just don't, please."
"Hugh, I--"
"You're all I have left of him, Okay. You're the only thing left of him alive, don't you dare fucking disappear." His eyes were suddenly hot with anger.
"I promise Hugh. I won't disappear on you."
I paid the bill with the last of the money from the envelope my mother dropped on me.
Underwater Excavation
Mulberry's knock woke me up the next morning. "I think I know where the treasure is," he said, pushing his way into my room.
"Good morning," I said, my eyes only half open.
"When we did a search of the basement of Eighty-Eight East End, we found a lot of really strange stuff." I looked in the mini fridge for a beer, but they were all gone. "I've been going over it in my mind, and I think that some of it is stuff used for underwater excavation." I was trying to wrap my mind around my lack of beer. "It wasn't all in one room, mind you. It was spread out so that no one would think ʽhey, here's a room full of underwater excavation equipment.ʼ I mean you wouldn't have even noticed it unless you knew you were looking for underwater excavation equipment." I held up a hand to stop him.
"Stop saying underwater excavation equipment or I'm going to throw up." I walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
"Don't you understand what I'm saying?" Mulberry called through the door. I turned on the tap and started brushing my teeth, ignoring him. I washed my face and looked at myself as the water dripped off my chin. I looked like I hadn't slept, that I had drunk instead. My head was large, fuzzy, and in need of a beer.
When I came out of the bathroom, Mulberry was waiting for me. "The point is that if they left the equipment down there, then they might have been launching it from there." I walked right past him into the bedroom and closed the door. "I bet there is a passage to the river. They could launch the equipment from the old marina and then bring the treasure back to the basement. They could have false rooms, or they could be bringing it out slowly. I don't know." He was breathing hard when I came back out, dressed and ready for a drink. I picked up my keys, clipped Blue to a leash and walked out the door. Mulberry followed me into the hall.
"See, what I'm thinking is we should explore that basement. You said we could get in through the drainage. I think we should wait till it's dark. There's no reason to risk anyone seeing us." The elevator opened, and we all stepped in. "Once inside we can search the rooms. I mean, we're not in a rush, right? We can take our time. Find all the treasure. We might even be able to remove it without killing anyone." The doors opened on the ground floor. I pushed the door-close button. Mulberry turned to look at me. "What are you doing?"
"Mulberry."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up." I pushed the door-open button and walked out, waving at the guy behind the desk. He didn't wave back. Mulberry followed me silently. I walked to the bodega, directly to the cooler holding the beer and picked up a six-pack.
"What are you doing?" Mulberry asked.
"Breakfast." He blocked my path.
"No way." Blue growled at Mulberry. "This is bullshit."
"Excuse me?"
"What you need is coffee and eggs and sausage. Not beer."
"I'll take beer, thank you very much." I tried to push past him but the aisle was too narrow. "Come on."
"You don't even want that."
"Yes, I do."
"No. You're faking it."
"What?"
"Cut the crap." Mulberry leaned toward my face. "You're not an alcoholic. You don't need that, you don't want it, and I'm not gonna let you drink it." I pushed up against him. He was made of stone.
"Fine," I exhaled loudly, too tired to argue. Hell, maybe he was right.
"Coffee?" I agreed. "I'm buying."
"Good." We walked to a diner nearby that had outdoor seating. Blue climbed under the table, his nose and tail sticking out from either end.
"Coffee for two and two hungry-man breakfasts."
"That's disgusting."
"You need it. You look like all you've been doing is drinking."
"And plotting my revenge." I smiled at him.
"This isn't a joke."
"Hey, you're the one who showed up at my doorstep acting like a kid on Christmas, talking all loud about treasure and," I lowered my voice, "killing people." Mulberry waved his hand at me to shut up. "That's all I'm saying."
"What do you think about my idea?"
"I think you're right. I saw wet suits down there and a really powerful flashlight. The Expedition something." Our coffee arrived and I slurped at mine hungrily.
"Exactly," Mulberry said. Our hungry-men arrived: sausage, bacon, ham, pancakes, French toast, and two eggs. After the first bite I realized how hungry I was. Neither of us spoke again until the plates were cleared away. "Mulberry, I want us to be clear on one thing before we go any further with this." He nodded. "I'm going to kill him." Mulberry nodded again. "For me, the treasure is secondary. Do you understand?"
"Yeah. But don't you think that taking the treasure is pu
nishment enough? I mean, don't you think leaving him alive to realize that his treasure is gone is better than killing him? Also, then we don't face any legal repercussions. He's not going to call the police and report it missing."
"Mulberry I'm going to kill him. That's it. There's nothing else to talk about here."
"Fine." Mulberry frowned and looked away. I smiled. "You don't have to be there," I said gently. "We'll get the treasure out, and then I'll go and take care of him myself. You'll be long gone by the time he's dead."
"OK."
"So, back to this theory of yours. If Tate and Kurt were accessing the river via the basement, then so could we." Mulberry nodded. "Theoretically we could carry it out the same way they carried it in."
"Right."
"The question is, how do we turn the treasure into money?"
"I think I know a guy who can help with that."
"Yeah?"
"I've got a meeting with him tonight."
"Can I come?" The waitress came over and refilled our coffees. After she left Mulberry said, "No."
"Why not?"
"He's a very private man."
"It's a man, then."
"Shut up."
"Fine, talk to your man." I stood up. Blue hurried out from under the table and stood next to me. Mulberry stood up, too.
"Where you going?" he asked.
"I'll call you." I started to walk away from the table. Mulberry tried to follow but a manager--a big, hairy man--asked him how he would like to pay for his check. Blue and I kept walking while Mulberry struggled to pull his wallet out.
I led Blue around the corner and out of Mulberry's sight. I turned into a building. The lobby was empty except for a security guard standing next to a bank of elevators. He watched as Blue and I stood up against the wall.
"Can I help you?"
"No. I'm fine." I saw Mulberry come rushing around the corner. He looked up and down the street. I watched the frustration set itself in lines on his face.
"Ma'am, is everything OK?" the security guard asked, eyeing the lingering bruising on my face. The bandages were gone, but the scars looked fresh, pink, and scary.
"Yes. Thank you. I'll leave in just a second."
"Are you hiding from someone?"
I smiled at him. "Of course not." Mulberry turned back toward the restaurant. I waited a few more minutes, watching people walk by.
"Is that the guy you're hiding from?" the security officer asked, pointing across the street at the bus stop. Bob stood large and conspicuous, surrounded by tired women holding plastic bags. "I think he knows you're in here."
"Yeah." Bob was looking right at us. "Looks that way."
I stepped outside and waved to Bob. He nodded. Then I headed over to Jackie Saperstein's house. I wanted to talk to her. I had a feeling she knew something she hadn't told anyone that she was just dying to tell me.
Soon, Very Soon
Cecelia opened the door for me. "Joy, this is a surprise. Elaine told us you no longer wanted the route."
"That's true, but I want to talk to Jackie."
"Come in." She closed the door behind me. "I heard about what happened to your brother, and I wanted to tell you how sorry I am."
"Thanks." I didn't want to talk about it, and she dropped it. Jackie and Mildred sat across from each other at the small kitchen table. Snaffles waited for me at the gate, his tail wagging.
"Joy," Jackie said. "This is a surprise."
"Hi, how are you?"
"I'm alright. How are you?"
"I've been better, but I'll be OK. Mildred." I nodded at Mildred. She nodded back. "Could I speak to you alone?" I asked Jackie.
Cecelia took Jackie's place across from Mildred, and we went into the living room. Almost blinding sunlight filled the room. Jackie closed the curtains. "It gets really hot in here if I let the sun come in all day," she explained. The sun struggled through the dark-blue drapes, and the room took on a somber tone.
"I wanted to talk to you about something your husband was involved in." She sat down on the couch and motioned for me to sit next to her.
"What kind of involvement?"
"It has to do with treasure." Surprise was all that registered on her face. "The basement of Eighty-Eight East End." Her surprise was tainted by guilt. "What do you know about the basement?"
"Nothing."
"I think it was you."
"What?"
"I think it was you seen leaving the emergency exit."
"But--"
"I don't think you killed your husband. In fact, I know you didn't. I think you were there, though." Her eyes, large and frightened, stared at me.
"How?" she asked in barely a whisper.
"I want you to tell me what happened. I won't tell the police or anyone else, ever. I give you my word of honor."
"Why do you want to know?"
"Will you tell me?" I could see that she wanted to. Her story pulsed inside her.
"I followed him," she started.
"From here?"
"Yes. I was here when he came back from his jog."
"He came back here? Why didn't Michael see him?"
"I don't know. He was probably looking at himself in the mirror. Or maybe he went out for coffee. I don't know why."
"OK. So, he came back here."
"He was here when I came in. I sneaked in the delivery entrance after leaving Julen. Joseph was packing a bag. He was wearing his jogging outfit and his stupid toupee, and he was packing a bag." Her words spilled out of her, angry and desperate. "When he saw me standing in the doorway, he jumped. He was obviously scared. I asked him what was wrong, but he wouldn't tell me anything. He brushed past me like I was the maid. But I was his wife. I followed him into the hall, and I grabbed his toupee off his head. He tried to take it back, but I didn't let him." I had an image of Mrs. Saperstein standing on the couch, the toupee held high above her head as the late Mr. Saperstein tried to claw up her body to get it back.
"It was so stupid, so childish of me. I told him he couldn't leave me, that I loved him, that I wanted to save our marriage." She watched her hands resting in her lap. "He looked at me with such disgust--like I was nothing. I don't know how it got to that." She paused. "We were really in love once, you know. We," she smiled sadly, "thought we would be happy together forever." I nodded. "So, um, he gave up trying to take the toupee. He told me I would hear from his lawyer and stormed out." She stopped talking.
"Then what happened?" I asked.
"That's it."
"Come on, finish it." She looked at me, her eyes glistening. She appeared to be drowning on the inside.
"I took his toupee and I followed him," she whispered, "I took the stairs, and I followed him out of the building. He didn't turn around even once. He walked straight to this hatch in the ground in the park, near the cherry trees." She looked to see if I knew the hatch she was talking about. I nodded that I did. "Joseph opened it and then looked around to see if anyone was watching, but he didn't see me and he went down. I followed him. He had started wearing this awful cologne. A gift from his girlfriend, I guess. I could smell it. Isn't that crazy? I tracked him through the halls by his smell, like a dog." She was waiting for me to say something.
"I think it's impressive you were able to track him so cleverly."
"Sure," she laughed, "clever, not psychotic. Whichever it was, I followed him. I saw him go into a room, and then I heard him inside the room. He was apologizing, and I heard a man tell him it was too late. I ran around the corner and hid. They came out of the room and walked in the opposite direction. I went after them. They went through the emergency exit. I was about to follow when I heard a bang." She paused. "I thought it was a truck backfiring. How silly." A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek, leaving a track in her makeup. "I opened the door and saw Joseph on the ground." I put a hand on her shoulder. "I don't remember doing it, but I must have dropped the toupee." She choked on a sob.
"It's OK. You can stop now."
"I know."
"And he was in his own blood. I was standing in the doorway looking at him when I heard Chamers yell to me. I ran. I ran blindly through the halls. Somehow I found myself back at the room that Joseph came out of, and I went into it."
"What was in it?"
"It was so strange. It was just a bunch of wooden crates marked fragile." Her eyes were unfocused, staring into the gloomy light coming through the curtains. "I keep going back there, but I still don't understand."
"That's how Snaffles ate the rat poison?" She turned her head and focused on my face.
"Yes, I took him with me for the company." Her breath caught in her throat, and I could almost see the fear race through her veins. "You won't tell anyone?" she begged and questioned in the same breath.
"Not a soul," I promised. "Have you figured out what your husband went down there for?"
"No." She smiled without her eyes. "I haven't a clue. The boxes are all empty. I don't understand it."
"Thank you for telling me." She looked at me but didn't say anything. "I've got to go," I said breaking eye contact. I stood up; she followed.
"Do you know why he went down there?"
"I think so."
"Will you tell me?"
"Later." She reached for my hand and held it lightly.
"Please, tell me. I can't sleep."
"The answer won't help you."
"Please."
"I can't tell you now. I promise you that I will explain it all soon." I took my hand away from her. She reached toward me. "I promise, soon."
Information
Bob was waiting for me outside. He followed me back to the Excelsior where I sat in my room until the sun set. Mulberry called. I told him to come over. He arrived with Chinese food.
"You trying to fatten me up?" I asked.
"Someone's got to do it." He pulled out General Tso's, moo shoo pork and spring rolls. We ate directly out of the cartons. I didn't have any plates or bowls.
"I did some research today after you ran off," Mulberry said, a piece of shredded pork hanging from his chin. I motioned to it. He tried to get it with his tongue.
"Lower," I told him. He stretched his tongue as far as it would go. I laughed.
Unleashed (Sydney Rye Series #1) Page 25