Thirteen Diamonds Page 7

  The attorney read two names. I recognized one as a resident of Silver Acres. I had no doubt that the signatures were valid. I thanked him and hung up. I sat there, my head spinning. So Gerald had lent money to Dora. They had had a closer relationship than she claimed. Twenty five thousand dollars. Was that sufficient to kill for? Of course people had been killed for a lot less—a few pennies or even for nothing.

  I looked at my notes. Five hundred thousand dollars to Silver Acres. Now that was real money. Why had Carol been so far off in her estimate? Surely, she had talked to the attorney. I had scribbled down the other amounts, but not the donees. I added them up; the total came to over $2 million. Gerald had done very well for himself.

  ***

  On the way to the pool aerobics class I told Tess about my misadventure of two nights before. She was properly shocked and said, “You could have been booted out of Silver Acres.”

  “According to my son, I almost was.”

  “Promise me, Lil. No more funny business. If you are forced to leave I won't have any friends here.”

  I decided not to tell her what I had found out about Dora. I said, “Nonsense, Tess. Everybody likes you. You have tons of friends.”

  “But not true friends like you.”

  Next we would be pricking our fingers, mixing our blood and vowing to be loyal to each other forever. I said, “I'm going to have a few people over for drinks tonight before dinner. I have a bottle of champagne I've been saving for a special occasion. Then we can all eat together in the dining room.”

  “Who are you inviting and what's the special occasion?”

  “Besides you, I'm inviting the four members of the former bridge club lunch committee. And the special occasion is absolution.”

  “Absolution for whom?”

  “For all the members of the lunch committee.”

  “Lil, are you up to something again?”

  “Trust me.”

  ***

  But before I could give absolution to anybody I had another item on my agenda. After the aerobics class ended, on the pretext of inviting Dora, who was in attendance, to my get-together I told Tess to go on back to the apartments without me. I did invite Dora and she accepted.

  She headed for the mailboxes to check her mail so I walked along beside her. Talking low enough so that other people strolling the hallway couldn't hear, I said, “Do you know that you are mentioned in Gerald's will?”

  I guess I should have prepared her for that. She turned white and I thought she was going to faint. I needed a nurse; then I remembered that Dora was a nurse. No help there. I had her sit down on a chair in the open area near the grand piano.

  I was debating pulling out my cellular phone and calling for help when her color started to return. She insisted she was okay. I said, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shock you. I guess I thought you already knew.”

  She shook her head. “I had no idea. Do I dare ask what it says?”

  I told her the gist of it.

  When I had finished she repeated, “I honestly had no idea he did that. I suppose that makes me a suspect now.” She looked very unhappy.

  “Not necessarily,” I said, trying to cheer her up. “Can you fill in a few details for me? When did he make the loan to you and did you have a written agreement?”

  “Of course we had a written agreement. I have a copy and he had a copy.”

  “Apparently his copy has disappeared.”

  “And you think I had something to do with that?”

  “Dora, I don't think anything. I'm just telling you what happened.”

  “Okay, I'd better tell you the story. About six months ago I was short of cash. I had gotten a short-term loan to help pay the entrance fee for Silver Acres. I was going to use some securities that had been in my husband's name to pay off the loan, but there was a snag about having them put in my name.” She sighed. “I don't understand all this financial and legal stuff.

  “I didn't know who to turn to, but Gerald is such a nice man and I knew he was an economist, so I thought I'd ask him what to do. He listened sympathetically, and then he said he'd lend me the money. I protested; that's not why I had gone to him but he insisted.”

  “You say that occurred six months ago?”

  “I know what you're saying. So why haven't I paid off the loan? Actually, I was just about to do it. I finally got the problems with my husband's securities straightened out. But then Gerald was kill...died and it completely slipped my mind. I thought about it yesterday and I was going to contact his attorney this week. Honest.”

  She was about to say, “Cross my heart and hope to die,” so how could I not believe her? I told Dora not to worry. After we checked our mail we were headed in different directions so I told her that I would see her at my champagne hour.

  ***

  Fortunately, I was able to get them all to come. I knew Ida well enough, through our dogs, to simply say, “Come on over.” I told Harriet that Tess would be there and I told Ellen that I was gathering some of the members of the bridge club together.

  They all arrived within five minutes of each other, clothed in their Sunday best. Actually, their evening best since dinners in the dining room were dressy occasions at Silver Acres. Tess arrived first and helped me put out a tray of cookies, champagne glasses and napkins.

  Then came Harriet, worried because she thought she might be too early. Ellen arrived next, outwardly cheerful and relaxed, just as she had appeared on the croquet course, even when she was losing. I need to cultivate a facade like that.

  Dora came into the apartment with her quick bird-like movements and hoped she wasn't late. She appeared to be fully recovered from the trauma of the morning. And then Ida swept in as if she owned the place, pausing only momentarily when she saw that Harriet was there.

  When they had all taken seats I got out the champagne bottle and opened it. I poured a glass for each person, which Tess distributed, and then gave a toast. “I propose that we drink to the bridge club, to its members and to one member, in particular, who has recently left us, but who will remain in our hearts.”

  When we had each sipped the champagne I said, “As you know, I have done some looking into Gerald's death. I have come to the conclusion that it was an accident. I can understand why none of you has admitted putting the lobster in the casserole, but it wasn't your fault. You can all relax because I won't be doing any more nosing around here.”

  “Not lobster, crab,” Ida said. “The fact remains that somebody did put crab in the casserole, whether or not she intended to hurt Gerald. And I would like to go on record as saying that I was not the one who did it. I did not put the crab in the casserole.”

  “Me, neither,” Harriet said, quickly. Assuming the forceful tone of Ida and looking straight at her, she repeated, “I did not put crab in the casserole.”

  Ellen smiled and mimicked the others: “I did not put crab in the casserole.”

  Dora looked around the room and said, “I guess I'm the only suspect who hasn't pleaded not guilty, so here goes. “I did not put crab in the casserole.”

  These spontaneous statements brought chuckles, but I could see that Ida was not smiling. I said, “Well, I guess that takes care of that. It must have been an act of God. Let's go to dinner.”

  A telephone rang. I automatically started for the den where my phone was located, even though the sound didn't seem to be coming from there.

  “It's mine,” Ellen said, pulling a cellular phone out of her purse. “I'm sorry; my sister is always calling me.”

  I mentally cursed people with cell phones who took calls, no matter where they happened to be. I only gave out my phone number to a few people and warned them not to call me on it except in case of dire emergency, such as an imminent collision of earth with an asteroid.

  Fortunately, not many of us old dames had cellular phones yet. Ellen and I were the only ones I knew of. And the only other time I had seen Ellen use her phone was once at the bridge club. Or at least I re
membered seeing her punching a number. I didn't think she had actually talked to anybody because the fire alarm had gone off about then. It had happened the day of Gerald's death.

  Ellen didn't talk long and we all trooped out the door and over to the dining room. Tess and I lagged slightly behind the others. As we walked across a wooden footbridge that goes over the local creek, Tess said, “What do you think?”

  “Either we're chasing the wrong fox or one of them is a damned good liar.”

  CHAPTER 12

  “Gogi, I can't just up and leave on a moment's notice. What would I do with Winston?”

  “Bring him along. You started flying when you were his age. In fact, thanks to your father's love for historical sites, you were a frequent flyer by the time you were two.”

  “Do you know how much stuff I would have to pack?”

  “Well, judging from the amount of stuff you cram into your little car just for going the few miles from your place to the farm, I can imagine. But you'll just have to pare it down. For example, forget the car seat. We'll rent one along with the car in San Diego.”

  You would have thought that I was trying to get Sandra to agree to have her tonsils out rather than to take a free trip to beautiful Southern California. And traveling with a baby can't have gotten that much more complicated just in two generations. When Albert had been young, Milt and I took him everywhere, mostly by car in those days. Albert and his ex-wife flew all over the world with Sandra when she was barely out of diapers. She loved to travel then.

  I had a thought. “You said that the guy from the bar asked you out.”

  “Mark.”

  “Mark, right. When is that scheduled to take place?”

  “Actually, I went out with him last night.”

  “Did you sleep with him?”

  “Gogi!”

  “If you didn't sleep with him, you should. I take it you're looking forward to going out with him again.”

  “Well...yes.”

  “Sandra, if he's the nice young man you hope he is, he'll still be here when you get back. And he'll be understanding about your trip.”

  Finally, I got Sandra to agree that she could use a little vacation. If I had been ten years younger I would have gone alone, but I needed Sandra to drive me around. Also, it doesn't hurt to have a good-looking young woman with you when you're trying to meet people, as we proved with Mark—spectacularly so, it would seem. I didn't think Winston would get in the way; he had magnetic powers too, especially where women were concerned; they always had to talk to him, wherever he went.

  I still had a lot of frequent flyer miles. Milt and I had traveled extensively, right up to the end, which had come mercifully quickly for him. After an hour of negotiation on the phone I made us reservations for the following day. I packed and was ready to go in another hour.

  I had promised to stop nosing around Silver Acres, but I hadn't said anything about California.

  ***

  Landing at Lindbergh Field was like experiencing a thrill ride at the local amusement park. The plane swooped down among the high-rise buildings of downtown San Diego while I, sitting by the window, pushed them away as well as I could.

  Winston had enjoyed the flight and made friends with the matronly lady across the aisle, so that when Sandra went to the restroom the lady appropriated him, taking him on her lap, and I was relieved of that responsibility. She talked to him in baby talk while he examined her teeth with his long fingers. That was all right with me; I knew I would have enough opportunities to watch him during the next few days.

  We went through the routine of claiming our baggage and our rental car and then with Sandra driving we headed for a motel that was a member of a national low-cost chain. Milt and I hadn't accumulated our money by being spendthrifts. Besides, it had cable television and a telephone, in addition to the usual amenities. What more did we need?

  I had had a long love affair with California, dating back many years, and it felt good to return to the land of palm trees and sandy beaches, without the humidity of Florida, which I can tolerate for a few days at the outside.

  As soon as we got settled in a room with two beds and a crib that management produced, especially for Winston, Sandra announced that she had to call Mark. I must have raised my eyebrows because she said, defensively, “Well, he wants to be sure we got here safely.”

  I refrained from pointing out that it would be more logical to call Albert with that news; I intended to do just that later. I gave her my telephone credit card and played with Winston while she talked. From the conversation that I overheard, it sounded as if she and Mark had become good friends.

  After she hung up, Sandra said, “Mark has decided that he needs a vacation, too. He is coming to San Diego.”

  “Oh, when?”

  “He's made reservations to come tomorrow.”

  “That will cost him a lot of money.”

  “He got a deal through the Internet.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Everything takes longer and costs more with a baby, something I forget since I don't have daily contact with babies. The ideal parents would be King and Queen Midas, who have the golden touch and copious free time. Gone are the days when children began generating wealth at an early age because they were put to work. Nowadays that is child abuse. If babies weren't so cute and lovable people might stop having them altogether. In some countries they already have.

  In the morning, after Sandra had diapered and clothed Winston and we all had eaten, we headed north a few miles to La Jolla and the campus of the University of California at San Diego. Having been there before, I rehearsed Sandra on the correct pronunciation of La Jolla—La Hoya—so that we wouldn't look too green.

  Before we left North Carolina I had arranged for us to have lunch with Dr. Benny Tokamatsu, a colleague of Gerald's during his professorial days. I had extracted Dr. Tokamatsu's name from Gerald's folder during my foray into Carol Grant's office. Gerald had listed him as a reference.

  The spacious UCSD campus is located above the Pacific Ocean, a paradise for surfers and other water lovers, including marine biologists. We arrived early for our appointment, got a parking permit and strolled along the walks shaded by cypress and eucalyptus trees and the rare Torrey pines, some with their branches jutting out at almost unsustainable angles.

  Sandra carried Winston in a backpack; he alternately played with her hair and tried to move her head aside so he could see more. The day was warm, with the temperature moderated by a breeze blowing off the ocean. Even though it was summer there were many young people about, riding bikes, walking briskly or slowly, talking or sitting on the grass.

  We found the economics building, and with the help of a friendly student we walked right to Dr. Tokamatsu's office. The door was open and he was inside, sitting in front of a computer and typing on the keyboard with machine-gun speed. He paused, noticed our presence in the doorway and gestured grandly for us to enter.

  “Come in, come in,” he said, jumping up from his chair with great energy. “I'm Benny Tokamatsu.”

  I introduced myself, Sandra and Winston. He shook hands with each of us, including Winston, who waved to him after shaking hands. He was no taller than I was and slightly built, maybe 50 years old, with still-dark hair and typical Japanese features, casually dressed in a colorful sport shirt. The fact that he spoke English without a trace of an accent led me to believe that he had been born in the U.S.

  He escorted us to his car in a nearby parking lot. He didn't have a car seat for Winston, but our car was some distance away. With trepidation, Sandra agreed to sit in the back seat and hold Winston during the short drive to the restaurant, but she obviously felt guilty about it.

  Once inside the nice Italian restaurant we were quickly seated, with a highchair for Winston. Sandra had also brought a bottle of formula, a jar of baby food and a change of diapers, so we were good for a couple of hours.

  “When I got your phone call, Dr. Morgan, I was very excited, because I h
ave not seen Gerald for five years,” Dr. Tokamatsu said as soon as we had ordered. “Of course we heard about his tragic death—it was in all the papers here—but I was unable to go to his funeral because of previous commitments. I was a student of his and I have tried to follow in his footsteps. I work in the same areas he did. I would like to know more of the details of how he died—and how he lived after he left here.”

  “Please call me Lillian,” I said. I had never been a formal person, and since I'd retired I had felt that Dr. Morgan was somebody else. I told Dr. Tokamatsu the basic facts concerning Gerald's death, without mentioning the possibility of murder.

  When I talked about the shellfish, Dr. Tokamatsu interrupted and said, “Yes, I knew about Gerald's allergy to shellfish. Sometimes he and his wife would eat at our house and he would remind us of it. He had a very precise mind. It is surprising to me that he did not determine exactly what was in the dish that killed him.”

  “He tried. He asked one of the ladies who prepared it. Unfortunately, there was a mixup and she didn't know there was shellfish in it. It was a tragic accident.” I hoped Dr. Tokamatsu wouldn't press the point because I didn't want to upset him by going into any more detail than necessary, especially since he had been such a good friend of Gerald's.

  I told him what I knew of Gerald's activities at Silver Acres, including bridge, and even mentioned his girlfriends.

  At this, Dr. Tokamatsu laughed and said, “Yes, Gerald always had an eye for the ladies.” He quickly added, “I don't want to give the wrong impression. He was always faithful to his wife, but he liked a pretty face. They say older men still look at women, but they forget why they’re doing it. I guess Gerald didn't forget why.”

  “That's the rumor,” I said. “But whether he went beyond looking and talking I don't know. Life for most of us at Silver Acres is pretty routine, unlike that of a college campus.”

  “That's all right. Gerald went there to rest and relax. After his wife died, he lost his zest for the academic life. In fact, he turned all his papers over to me so that I could use them in my research. One thing I'm proud of is that I helped to get his most important book reissued—the one that was instrumental in his being awarded the Nobel Prize.”