Dead Man Docking - Mary Daheim [111]
The chauffeur pulled the Town Car into the garage of the St. Georges’ building and parked in a reserved space. The cousins got out before he could assist them. Wordlessly, he led them to an elevator.
“I’m anxious to hear what Rick has to say,” Judith said as they waited. “He and Biff must have come up with something.”
The elevator doors slid open; the cousins stepped inside. The driver followed, backing in and pushing the button for the penthouse. He was still turned away from Judith and Renie. Suddenly curious, Judith moved forward just enough to see the man’s profile. Under the cap, all she could glimpse was a sharp nose and a graying goatee. But as the elevator moved directly to the top floor, she realized that he looked familiar.
“Have you worked very long for the St. Georges?” Judith asked.
The man nodded.
“How long?” Judith inquired as the car slid slowly to a stop.
“Two years,” the man replied.
Judith knew that voice. She’d heard it somewhere, but couldn’t place it. She was concentrating so hard on trying to remember that she almost tripped getting out of the elevator.
Rhoda wasn’t in the foyer to greet them. But as soon as the cousins and their driver walked into the living room, they saw their hostess sitting in a chair that looked as if it had been occupied by a Chinese emperor. Judith didn’t remember the elaborate piece of furniture, which was in front of the closed draperies.
“My dears!” Rhoda exclaimed, still not sounding like her usual self. She wasn’t acting like the Rhoda they’d come to know, either: There was no martini at hand. “Come in,” she urged, “sit down.”
Judith and Renie obliged. The chauffeur remained in the doorway between the foyer and the living room.
“Where’s Rick?” Judith asked.
“Rick’s not here at the moment,” Rhoda replied. “Unfortunately.”
“For you,” the chauffeur said loudly, startling Judith.
The voice. Judith knew it, but still couldn’t place it with a face. At that moment, the man came into the middle of the living room and took off his chauffeur’s cap, tossing it across the room, where it landed on a Chinese marble horse head.
His head was shaved. Judith recognized him at once. So did Renie.
“Hey!” Renie cried. “You’re the waiter dink who wouldn’t bring me a taco salad! What’s going on?”
“We want what you’ve got,” the man said, jabbing a finger at the cousins. “Old Lady Giddon’s jewels.”
Judith stared at the man. She hadn’t put face and voice together because she’d never heard him speak—not when she could see him. But she had listened to him talk aboard ship. It was the conversation she’d overheard from the gangway between Biff McDougal and a man called Blackie.
In shock, Judith looked beyond him to Rhoda. “I don’t understand. Rhoda, you know we didn’t steal the jewels! How could you let this happen?”
Rhoda sighed. “It wasn’t easy. But I can always be persuaded at gunpoint.”
Judith gaped as the draperies rustled behind Rhoda’s chair and CeeCee Orr slipped out from behind them holding a very shiny revolver.
TWENTY-ONE
“I TRIED TO tell them you didn’t steal the jewels,” Rhoda said in a plaintive voice, “but they wouldn’t listen. I’m so sorry I had to lure you up here, but I didn’t have much choice. I think they really would have shot me, and the idea of being dead isn’t terribly appealing. It’s even worse than the prospect of inedible hospital food.”
“You talk too much,” CeeCee said, her features hardening as she moved farther into the room and kept the gun aimed at Rhoda. “Keep your trap shut and let these other two dames tell us how they switched the loot and where the real stuff is now.”
“You mean,” Judith blurted, “you two stole Erma’s jewels?”
“Sure,” CeeCee replied. “It was a cinch. The old broad was so damned careless. Blackie and I had it all set up beforehand. After he delivered Anemone’s salad, he told me to go get Horace out of the Giddon suite. You two were gone by then, so I made an excuse to use Erma’s powder room and swiped the case. The