Malice Times Page 20

  Michael was there, outside a window peering in like a peeping tom. His camera flashing. Brad and Celia taking no mind. With every flash the scene turned to the two of them lying on the bed, blood splashed across the bedroom like paint. Then, they switched back to just sitting there talking. Giant gold coins with seagulls covered Brad’s eyes.

  Cuckoo. Squawk. What about the clock?

  Then a flurry of shots filled the room. A spray of blood squirted backwards and on the bed. Celia fell across Brad’s bullet-ridden body. The seagull charm tumbled from Celia's necklace and onto the floor.

  Squawk. Get the clock.

  I tried to reach for the charm, but was stapled to the corner. The afghan fell to the floor covering the charm. My brother stood at the foot of the bed gleefully taking pictures. He pulled the sheets slowly over the two embracing bodies.

  Squawk. The clock.

  I jolted awake. It was late at night. Regina was out in the living room watching television. On the couch next to her was a folder. The dream was starting to come back to me in bits and pieces. I sat down next to Regina to watch David Letterman.

  I sat there and watched with Regina. I was feeling pretty refreshed. There was still some pain, but it was manageable. Then I remembered the dream. "The clock," I said launching myself off of the reclined couch.

  "What's wrong?" Regina’s eyes were no longer glued to the television.

  "I think I know why everyone has been after The Malice Times.”

  “What are you babbling about?”

  “Come on. I've got to get over to the office."

  Regina looked at me as if I were crazy. I hobbled into the bedroom, got dressed and ordered Regina to take me down to the paper. She complained that it was past midnight, but reluctantly helped me down to her car after a futile debate.

  It seemed to take forever to arrive at the paper. I tried to see how fast she was going, but couldn't make out what the speedometer read. The paper was dark with inactivity. I should have been more cautious, but I was too damn excited.

  I unlocked the door to my office, went in and turned on the lights. I looked in horror at the place where the clock hung. The clock was sticking out perpendicular to the wall. I couldn't see the safe, which was still behind the wall, which seemed odd, because when you swung the clock open a part of the wall came open too, but not now. I walked over to the clock to take a closer look. The back of the clock was placed firmly on the wall and the clock itself was open. Inside, there was an empty, hollow space. In the upper right corner was a small time lock. It only opened certain times of the day. I looked at the face of the clock. It read two-thirty with the @ sign right in the middle. The time clock released the lock at two-thirty. Once in the afternoon and once in the morning. I inspected the inside of the clock. Nothing.

  “What’s this?” Regina asked from the corner of the room. She bent down and picked up a folder. She opened it and some newspaper clippings fell to the floor. I looked at her in anticipation. I stood next to her as she picked them up. “Ten million stolen in diamond heist.”

  There was a picture of a white and gold hotel that reached high into sky. I continued to read, “Yesterday the Golden Seagull was robbed of $10 million in diamonds and $250,000 in cash. In what appears to police to be a coordinated heist, a man wearing a false white beard and oversized baseball hat stole $250,000 from the cashier’s cage at the Golden Seagull Casino. That robbery acted as a distraction as another man entered the jewelry store in the lobby of the Golden Seagull Hotel just before closing and stole approximately $10 million in diamonds. While casino and security attempted to locate the man in the false beard, the second man went unnoticed as he entered the jewelry store and absconded with the precious stones. The FBI believes that the two men had inside help as the manager of the jewelry store let the unknown man enter the store after closing. She had also let all store employees leave early that day. The police are currently looking for a young woman with long brown hair and blue eyes. She wears thick glasses and speaks with a lisp and went by the name Marion Wayne.”

  I went to the next news clipping, “Local Casino Owner Arrested,” which was dated June 21, 1994. “Dutch Gordon, the owner of The Golden Seagull, was arrested yesterday in connection to the $10 million diamond heist at a jewelry store located in the lobby of the hotel. Gordon, 55, purchased The Golden Seagull in 1990 following the death of Buddy Costello. Police say that $5 million of the diamonds have been recovered.” I skimmed over the rest of the article.

  The next clipping was from September 28, 1994. There was a picture of Dutch Gordon with a young woman on his arm walking into the courthouse. “Gordon Guilty. After a lengthy trial, Dutch Gordon, local casino owner, was found guilty of The Golden Seagull diamond heist. $5 million in diamonds were found at his home two days after the heist. Gordon continues to proclaim his innocence. His accomplices are still at large. $5 million in diamonds and $250,000 in cash are still missing. The FBI believes that more than the originally reported $10 million in diamonds may have been stolen from the jewelry store. They say that although hotel security cameras went out at the time of the robbery that a man was seen on camera outside the hotel carrying an apparently heavy duffel bag right after the robbery.” Accompanying the story was a second grainy picture of Brad Graber in a suit and tie carrying a black duffel bag outside the casino. Not many would have recognized Brad from the grainy picture, but I did. “Security cameras caught this picture of the man on the street after the robberies took place. The FBI believes that an untold amount of uncut illegal diamonds may have been stolen from the vault, as they found evidence of uncut diamonds in the vault. Uncut diamonds are easier to sell as they bear no markings and once cut are virtually untraceable. These uncut diamonds will be sold for less than half their worth.”

  The next clipping was dated January 2, 1995. “Dutch Gordon dead. Dutch Gordon was found in his prison cell brutally murdered yesterday. Sometime during New Year’s Eve, someone gained access to Gordon’s jail cell and viciously attacked him. Police say that it looks as though Mr. Gordon had been beaten rather violently before he was stabbed to death in his jail cell. Mr. Gordon did not have a cellmate at the time, as his current cellmate was in the infirmary with an illness.”

  I took the folder out of Regina’s hand and placed it inside the clock. It curved perfectly in place.

  “I don’t remember this at all,” Regina said. “Ten million in diamonds. You would have thought that would have been big news.”

  “Not on June 17th of last year, it wouldn’t have.”

  She looked puzzled.

  “That was the night O.J. Simpson was getting chased in a white Bronco. There was nothing on the news but that.”

  “I guess it is fair to say that this is where Brad Graber’s sudden influx of money came from,” she said and sat down in the armchair.

  “Brad Graber was a jewel thief.” I laughed at the absurdity of it. “And Michael knew all about it.”

  “It says two men and one woman. So, if Brad was one of the men, who were the other two? Obviously, the other man wasn’t this Dutch Gordon.”

  “No, he wouldn’t have had any activity in the actual commission of the crime. So, Brad and two other people.”

  “Celia Archer maybe?” she asked.

  “Brad wouldn’t put Celia in that kind of danger,” I said. “Besides, whoever this Marion Wayne is, she would have to have spent a considerable amount of time working at the jewelry store. That couldn’t have been Celia Archer. Archer would have wondered where his wife had gone. Where were you between January and June of 1994?”

  She laughed. I eyed her suspiciously. “You’re serious?”

  “Not particularly,” I laughed.

  “I was working right here at The Malice Times,” Regina said and sunk further into the chair in deep thought. “Tom Watkins and Lynda Cranston?”

  “You’re pretty good at this. We know Watkins went to meet Brad that night. That had to be the business he was in town for. But my fa
ther said he was in town on business for Regan and that they were arranging a swap of personnel. And Regan was close with Buddy Costello, not Dutch Gordon.”

  “Maybe Watkins was planning to get out just like Brad,” Regina said.

  I sat down. I was tired all of a sudden. “Then, Watkins double-crossed Brad, killed them and kept the money for himself. If that’s the case, why is Watkins still in Malice Grove? Why not leave? And what money does Watkins owe Regan?”

  “Maybe he’s lying low,” she said.

  “Or maybe he doesn’t have it. Maybe what everyone has been looking for is these uncut diamonds and they all think Michael had it. Maybe he did.”

  “You can hide some diamonds in that clock, but not a lot,” she said. “The article said a heavy duffel bag. I’d love to see a duffel bag full of diamonds. I doubt I’d ever give it back.”

  She kept talking, but I wasn’t listening. I was thinking. Something was ringing in my head like an alarm clock. “What did you say?”

  “What? I doubt I’d ever give it back. You can hardly blame a girl for that. I mean diamonds are a girl’s best friend.”

  “No. Before that. Duffel bags. You said duffel bags.” She was looking at me like I was crazy. Duffel bags. Maybe I was crazy. I pulled out the pictures that my brother had taken. There was the one with Brad and Celia. There was the one with Archer and Dempsey carrying the garbage bag. The one with Watkins carrying a duffel bag was gone. “Did I lose it?”

  “What?”

  “The picture of Watkins with the duffel bag. It’s gone.”

  “When is the last time you remember seeing it?” She stood up and walked towards me.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “You’ve had a pretty rough week. You could have lost it anywhere.”

  “I haven’t had them off of my person the entire time.”

  “Except when you were in the hospital,” she said.

  I stood up and walked back over to the clock. With every other step, a weird noise came from my shoe. I looked down and could see a photograph stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I laughed. “Apparently, I dropped it when I was getting them out.”

  Regina sighed. “That’s good.”

  I reached down and peeled the photograph off of my foot. I looked down at the picture. The picture was of Brad and Celia naked, a pile of muddy clothes on the floor, walking towards the bathroom door, with a shower in the distance. The picture must have been in the clock with the clippings. Then, I saw something else glittering under the desk. I got down on my knees and reached for the object. I wrapped my finger around the hard stone and stood back up. I put the stone on the desk.

  Regina gasped. “Is that a diamond?”

  “And it’s cut.” Michael had the diamonds in the clock. Whoever had gotten into the clock had it. “I think we need to find out a little bit more about Tom Watkins.”

  "New York, here we come," Regina said.

  "What do you mean we?"

  “Oh, I’m going with you," she said.

  “Wait a minute.” I started flipping through the clippings. I pulled the clipping from Gordon’s verdict out and looked at the picture at the top of the story again. I started to laugh. Regina looked at me like I was crazy. I was laughing so hard tears were streaming down my cheeks. I handed her the clipping and showed it to Regina, pointing at the thin woman on Dutch Gordon’s arm.

  “Oh, my God, that’s Dulcy,” she said.

  I pulled the folder out of the cubbyhole and went to put the clippings back in the folder. Inside were a number of documents, police reports, interviews, all the research done by Daniel Miles. Then, it all started to click into place. Why Michael had called me and asked for my help. How Daniel knew about my run-in with Webb. Because it wasn’t just Daniel’s story, it was Michael’s, too.

  35

  We arrived in New York at five in the afternoon. Regina had made reservations at a hotel called the Perkins. We decided to enjoy a nice, quiet evening in our room. Normally, we would have separate rooms, but Regina didn’t want to be alone. Neither did I for that matter. We ordered room service and drank a considerable amount of wine. She had veal piccata, which she said was passable, barely. I opted for chicken parmigiana, which was okay. The wine on the other hand was superb.

  The only thing about the room that bothered us was the fact that there was only one bed. Well, it didn’t bother me, but it clearly bothered her. After a few more glasses of wine it didn't seem like such a big deal and we decided to share the king-sized bed. After dinner and polishing off a bottle of wine we decided to go out. After all it was New York. We asked the woman at the hotel's front desk if she knew of any place fun, but not too loud. She made a wisecrack about if we wanted quiet we came to the wrong town and directed us to Top Hatters. She said it was an old-fashioned place with big band music. It sounded perfect for me and Regina seemed to like the idea. We got lost twice. We had to walk into two separate hotels to ask for directions, which they gave us readily. When we finally walked into Top Hatters after paying the cover charge, I felt right at home. It looked like one of those places that you see in old movies. Hundreds of tables surrounded a large dance floor, which was occupied by more couples than I could count. Through the thick group of people dancing I could see a big band playing swing music from the thirties and forties. I felt like I had stepped into another world.

  A waiter led us to a table on a raised level that surrounded the tables on the floor level and asked us what we wanted to drink. I told him to bring us a bottle of wine and he went away. Regina looked longingly at the dance floor, so I asked her to dance. She resisted at first. It didn't take a lot of convincing. I felt a little underdressed. The men, who were mostly above forty were dressed up for the evening. The women wore beautiful flowing dresses. I wore a dark suit but nothing comparing to the others and Regina's small body was in a tight-fitting dress that hung off her slender shoulders. Her small breasts poked at the fabric and when I pressed her body close to mine I could smell the sweet fragrance of her hair. We danced for a couple of minutes before we spoke.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I like dancing,” she said.

  “That’s not what I meant. Why did you come to New York with me?”

  “You need someone to look over you while you are healing.”

  “I am feeling pretty good. I don’t need a nursemaid.”

  “What do you need?” she asked with a silky voice.

  “You’re avoiding my question,” I said.

  “Am I?”

  “And doing a pretty admirable job of it.”

  “Just protecting my interests,” she said.

  “I wonder what your interests are. Me or the large cache of diamonds.”

  “Well, they certainly aren’t you.” She laughed as I spun her around.

  “So, you’re after the diamonds?” I asked.

  “No. Those diamonds have gotten a lot of people killed so far. I just want to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. You need to get them to the feds as soon as you can.”

  “So, you have no interest in me?” I asked.

  “I have interest in you. Just not the kind that you’re suggesting.”

  “I am very charming once you get to know me.” We danced towards the front of the dance floor where the band was playing.

  “You are very charming, but Rae is my friend,” she said.

  “I see,” I said. “Well, Rae and I are on the outs if you hadn’t heard.”

  “I heard that you’re an idiot, but I already knew that.”

  “Yeah, I made a bit of a miscalculation.”

  “You just don’t know how to trust someone. To completely believe that someone else actually cares about you and has your best interests at heart. It is a big problem with most men, but boy, do you take it to a whole new level. I’ve never seen anyone try to outwardly sabotage every single relationship that they have. Even me. I have this nice girl Friday thing going on with you and you ask me where I w
as during the time of the diamond heist.”

  “I did say that I wasn’t really serious,” I said.

  “You said you weren’t serious, but you still wanted to know.”

  I chewed on that for a little bit as we twirled around the dance floor. She was right. I run away from all relationships. I have no real friendships, no real female relationships since leaving Malice Grove except for the pass in the night variety.

  “You have to look at it from my perspective,” I said. “I leave her apartment to go investigate Daniel’s murder. When I get back to her apartment at five-thirty in the morning, she’s not there. I just knew where she went, so I go there and there she is talking to her father. Who goes and sees their father at five-thirty in the morning to tell him that she has rekindled her romance with the man she loves and that she wants him to leave him alone?”

  “Maybe someone whose father isn’t long for this world,” she said. I stopped dancing and looked at her. I thought about it all. Dempsey’s desire to get out. Him not fighting very hard to get Lynda’s job back at the Malice Times, even though they both knew that the diamonds were there. Even his frame job of Watkins. He wanted me to leave Malice Grove so he could spend his remaining months with his daughter without my interference.

  “He’s dying?” I asked.

  “Cancer,” she said. “It started with the stomach, but it has spread.”

  I thought of Dempsey’s oft-used phrase, one that Rae had even adopted, he doesn’t have the stomach for it anymore and I just shook my head. It would be funny, if it weren’t so sad.

  “I am a world class moron,” I said.

  “That goes without saying. Let's go drink some wine."

  "Now that's worth saying."

  We left the dance floor and went back to our table. A bottle of wine was uncorked on the table. Two wine glasses were upside down. I turned them over and poured us two glasses of wine.

  "Tell me about college," I said.

  "What about it?"

  "How did you meet Rae?” I asked