Chapter Ten

“If only the Dugans decided to work on their yard last week,” said Lily. “We could have given Mrs. Greenberg something to live for.”

“Yeah.”

We were sitting in the car gazing at the house.

“I can’t believe Mr. Greenberg refused to speak to us! Maybe he would have if the butler had been more urgent when he asked him if he could spend a few minutes with us. That would have been nicer than shutting the door on us so rudely!”

“His wife just died,” I pointed out. “I don’t think he was being rude. Do you know anyone else with a butler? An actual, real live butler?”

“Yeah. My parents and their friends.”

“I can’t imagine having a butler. I can open my own door.”

“But you wouldn’t have to. Imagine all the people you don’t want to see and could get rid of by making the butler deny them.”

“Just like Mr. Greenberg,” I pointed out.

“The butler said the office is shut for the foreseeable future. Do you think Mrs. Greenberg was still working right up until…” Lily pulled a face, stuck out her tongue, flopped in her seat, and pretended to collapse.

“Seems so. I’m not sure how to get that background information on Joe Smithson now. I suppose I could ask Garrett to officially request it but it seems a lot to bother the Greenbergs with at this time.”

Lily nodded. “We should probably break in.”

“They’re holding a wake!”

“What? Everyone will be distracted. We can get in, locate the home office, go through her files, get the information and get out. No one will even know. We won’t even bother anyone, ” Lily pleaded, then, as if it would do any good, batted her eyelashes at me.

“We don’t exactly blend in.” I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing my cutest pastels. I looked more like an ice cream cone than a funeral attendee.

“We could. We could go to your place and get black outfits and be back here in far less than an hour. We slip inside, mingle with the other guests, and then poof! We disappear.”

I checked my watch. I had time before my meeting with Garrett and I did want to know what Elsie Greenberg knew. If she were meticulous with her records, then she might have kept all of them going back years. I had to see what she had in her file on her mysterious tenant.

“Okay,” I agreed, pulling a U-turn to head for home. “Let’s get dressed for a wake.”

~

By the time we returned, both in appropriately sedate black dresses and neat heels, the wake was in full throttle and most of the parking had disappeared. I wedged my small VW in between two SUVs and we followed a trio of women inside, neatly skirting past the man posted at the door, who’d turned us away in no uncertain terms before, as he took the shawl from one of the women and walked away.

Lily plucked two glasses from a passing waiter and passed one to me as we headed into the nearest living room. Most of the guests were in their advanced years. Several people sat on the couches. There was a couple by the window talking softly. A young child charged past us, followed by his mother, who herded her around a couch, over several feet and then past us. “Sorry,” she muttered, sighing. “You have to stop running, Dee. This is Granny’s wake. Not a playground.”

“I feel her pain. I thought it would be exciting once Poppy started walking but it’s terrifying. She moves so fast. She climbs too. At breakfast, I went to get her more milk and she was on top of the hallway credenza when I got back. I don’t even know how she got up there.”

“Can’t you tell her no?” I asked.

“Have you met a child before?” asked Lily, looking at me askance.

“Fair point. We should make contact with the mom. She’s either the daughter or the daughter-in-law. She might know something about the business.”

“Say no more,” said Lily, turning on her heel and heading after the woman. “Your little girl is soooo cute,” she gushed when we found her in the next room.

“She is, but she’s also got a lot of excess energy,” said the woman. “I ran her around the yard before everyone arrived but she seems to have recovered a second wind.”

“You must be Elsie’s daughter? Naomi?” I asked.

“That’s right.”

“We’re so sorry for your loss,” I said. “I’m sure this is an awful time for you all.”

“It is. We didn’t expect Mom to… well, you know. We didn’t expect it at all.” Then she frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t recognize you. Are you a neighbor? Or a business associate?”

“Business associates,” I lied.

“We’re in property,” added Lily. “We flip houses.”

“Oh? That’s interesting. Usually it’s guys. I bet my mom was impressed.”

“We were hoping to sell some of our properties,” I said.

“To my mom? I didn’t know she was looking for houses. She thought apartments were a better investment for her portfolio but I expect she told you that. Dee, don’t touch that. Sorry.”

“There was actually some confidential paperwork we left with your mom recently,” I said. “I’m sorry this is awkward but we need it back.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. I could ask my dad but I don’t think he’s thinking too clearly at the moment. Mom’s office is at the back. If you tell me what to look for I can check her desk.”

“It’s quite old paperwork actually. About a property she used to own.”

“Due diligence,” added Lily.

“How old?” asked the woman.

“Twenty years ago.”

“Oh, gosh. Well, Mom probably wouldn’t have that kind of paperwork in her office. She usually keeps all the old files in the basement. If she needed something old, she’d bring it upstairs and she did bring a few things up just last week. I told her she should have asked me or Dad to carry the boxes but she just rolled her eyes.” She stopped, frowning. “But you said you dropped off paperwork last week? So that’s probably still on her desk.”

“Yes, that’s right. It’s old paperwork about an old property but it’s very confidential and we need to get it back or we could get in trouble.”

“But you’re the bosses?”

“With the city,” I said. “The building inspectors have been a nightmare.”

“Permits,” said Lily in a knowing, hushed voice.

“Oh, say no more. The battles my mom had to fight when she submitted renovation plans. You’d think they’d have improved over the years but I guess not.”

“You didn’t follow your parents into the property business?”

“Oh, goodness, no. I’m a teacher. Dee, put that down. There’s my dad,” she said as a man with dark circles under his eyes and slumped shoulders entered the room. He looked around blankly and walked out again. “Sorry, I should check on him. Sorry.”

“What are the odds Mr. Greenberg sees through us?” asked Lily.

“High,” I said. “Let’s steer clear of him, find the office and leave. I don’t want to draw any attention if we can avoid it and I don’t think we should linger. The daughter says it was at the back. Plenty of people are strolling around so we’ll blend right in.”

“Let’s go.”

We left the room, turning left and heading along the hallway, past a dining room and a smaller den. A man stepped out of a powder room into the hallway, and a waiter with an empty tray walked straight ahead into what I assumed was the kitchen. There were two doors left. I tried one, the handle awkwardly wobbly, finding stairs heading down.

“It must be that one,” I said, pointing to the other door. “This leads to the basement.” I tried to shut it but it kept popping open so I gave up, leaving it slightly ajar.

“It’s a nice house,” said Lily as she ran her hand across a mahogany credenza. “But it’s got a lot of old people furniture.”

“Old people live here.”

“I’m just saying a little modernization wouldn’t hurt.” Lily tried the handle and the door opened. She stepped inside, took a few steps, paused, shrieked, turned around and ran into me. As Lily barreled forwards, I stumbled backwards and Lily just kept on going, hands flapping, horror etched across her face until we were stumbling through the open door opposite.

Before we tumbled down the stairs, I grabbed Lily and held her, forcing her to a stop. She breathed heavily, her eyes wide with alarm as she rested against the wall.

“What the heck just happened?” I asked. Behind Lily, the waiter caught the door and pushed it firmly closed, without glancing inside, as he walked past, leaving us in the dark.

“She was in there!”

“Who?”

“Elsie Greenberg!”

“She can’t be. She’s dead.” I patted the walls, searching for a light switch. Finally I found it, pushed it in, and an overhead light flickered on, then kept flickering.

“I know!”

“So you didn’t see her in there. It must have been someone else and now some poor old lady thinks you went nuts for no reason.”

“It was Elsie Greenberg and she was definitely dead.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“She was in a coffin on her desk,” Lily hissed.

I paused, uncertain if I’d misheard.

“It was open. I saw her.”

“Oh!” I palmed my face. “This isn’t just a wake. This is a viewing! Some people do that. They keep the body at home so people can view it before the funeral service.”

“That is so weird!”

“Apparently, it’s comforting.”

Lily stared at me. “Do I look comforted?”

“It’s comforting for the family. It’s not supposed to be comforting for the two women sneaking in.” I looked around. The stairs were wooden, the walls painted a soft cream. No cobwebs. That was a good sign. The basement was clearly accessed regularly. “Did you see anything on her desk?”

“No, I was too busy being horrified.”

“Was her coffin actually on the desk?”

“No. Some kind of plinth with drapes in the middle of the room. I don’t think there was anything on her desk at all.”

“The paperwork we’re looking for would have been archived years ago, probably when Mrs. Greenberg sold the house.” I turned to look at the stairs as the lightbulb above started to fade. “Let’s head downstairs and look through the files. I bet we’ll find info on Joe Smithson down there. We can get what we need and hopefully, we won’t have to go back into the office.”

“Good because I don’t want to go into the office.”

“Stick with me.”

Lily snorted. “Like I was going to wait up here with a dead body close by.”

“Dead bodies can’t do anything to you.”

“Have you watched The Walking Dead ?”

“Come on.” I headed down the stairs, shaking my head, trying to make sure I didn’t make any noise on the wooden steps. The stairs curved to the left, then opened up into a wide storage room with windows set high in the wall allowing a stream of natural light. The room was clearly used for storage. There were two Christmas trees in boxes, and a dozen clear plastic bins with decorations for all the seasons. Two couches were covered in plastic and there were several boxes of children’s toys and books and a large rocking horse with a beautiful mane and leather saddle. Across the back wall was a series of filing cabinets. I headed for them, hoping Elsie Greenberg had a coherent system for her paperwork.

“What should we look under?” asked Lily, pulling open the top drawer of the first cabinet.

“The year? Around twenty years ago?”

Lily’s fingers moved over the files. “I think everything is filed by address.”

“That makes it easier. Look for my parents’ street.”

I pulled open the drawer of the next cabinet, scrolling through the card files.

“Not here,” said Lily, closing that drawer and pulling open the one underneath. “They don’t seem to be in alphabetical order.”

“I noticed. I’m not sure what kind of system this is.” I pulled out a couple of files, flipping through them. “Oh, now I get it. These files are for apartments. I think they all are.” I neatly inserted the files back, extracting a couple more, finding I was correct.

“These are for commercial buildings,” said Lily, scanning several sheets of paper.

“We need to find the cabinet for houses. Maybe single family units.”

I closed the cabinet, and moved onto the next one. “This is it,” I said, pleased to find the first two files I pulled were for duplexes. Near the middle of the files, I found the one I was looking for. I pulled it out and lay it open so we could both see.

“What are we looking at?” asked Lily.

“The sales particulars. Elsie Greenberg bought the house from the Weinbergs like my mom said. There’s an application from the Langs with some background information. Jobs, former addresses, credit checks, standard stuff. A photo of the family.” I ran my finger down the sheet. “Move in date. Move out date. Deposit marked as returned.” I turned the page. “Looks like it was rented out immediately to a Joe Smithson. He’s listed as a salesman but it doesn’t say what he was selling or his employer. Two former addresses. No credit check but he paid three months up front and took out a six-month lease. He renewed it for another three months.”

“It says here he didn’t pay the last month and left a bunch of stuff so they retained the deposit and no claim was ever made.” Lily pointed to a paragraph near the end of the page.

“The year fits. If he didn’t make that last month’s rent, perhaps he was already dead?”

“Someone made a note to blackball him for future rentals based on the non-payment and abandonment.”

“There’s something clipped to the form.” I turned the page, finding a receipt from a home clearance company. It listed removal of a small amount of furniture, clothing, a TV and personal possessions. “He didn’t pay the last month’s rent and left everything behind. That does sound like he wasn’t in a position to claim anything.”

“AKA, dead and buried,” said Lily.

“It narrows down a timeline. I’m going to take pictures of this form. There’re addresses and phone numbers. They’re probably long out of date but I can check.”

“Then let’s get out of here,” said Lily.

“Agreed.” I snapped photos of each page of the registration paper, the receipt, and the rental contract, then I slipped all the paperwork back into the file and deposited it into the cabinet.

We headed back up the stairs and I reached for the handle, turning it. “It’s stuck,” I said, giving it a harder tug. Then another. No matter how I twisted it or how hard I pulled, it wouldn’t budge.

“Let me try,” said Lily, edging me out the way. She tugged and tugged, pulling a face. “It’s stuck.”

“Not stuck. Locked.” I pointed to the keyhole. “The door kept popping open when I shut it earlier. I bet someone decided to be extra safe and locked it without realizing we were down here.”

“What do we do now? Knock and holler?”

“Then we’ll have some explaining to do. There must be another way out. Let’s check. Hollering is the last option.” I headed back down the staircase, goosebumps popping out on my arms. It was very cool in the house and, with a dead Elsie Greenberg upstairs, I now understood the temperature was more than to simply combat the summer heat.

There was no outside door in the room we checked and neither was there in the furnace room or the unfinished part of the basement. I headed for the row of high windows reaching the ceiling but even on tiptoes, I couldn’t quite reach the catch. They were wide and not too shallow and I couldn’t see any locks, just a lift and push mechanism. “I think we can just fit through. We just need to be able to get up there,” I said, looking around for something to stand on. “Do you see a stepladder?”

“No. The rocking horse is the only thing big enough to stand on,” said Lily, looking from the window to the horse. “Where do the windows lead? I don’t remember seeing any at the front of the house.”

“I think either the backyard or the side. I’m a little disoriented. Let’s get the horse.” Lily and I tried to lift it but it was awkward and heavy so we wiggled it back and forth across the floor until it was under the window. “Hold it still,” I said as I climbed up, steadying myself so I could stand on the saddle.

“Ride ‘em, cowgirl,” said Lily.

I balanced, my arms stretched out. “I think a childhood dream just came true. I always wanted to be one of those flying acrobats on horseback.” I beamed, then the horse wobbled and I crouched again, grabbing a fistful of silky mane.

“How about you just stay upright and don’t do anything crazy.”

“Okay, but I look good, don’t I?” I rose again, wishing I’d done the core work that involved working my muscles for balance, and not just to employ them to keep the cake inside me.

“I’m imagining you in a sequined leotard and a plumed headdress,” said Lily. “I’m also imagining you looking out the window then trying the catch.”

“I was enjoying the moment,” I said but she had a point. “It looks like the side of the yard. There’s no patio. The window opens into a flower bed and I think I see a path.” I tried the catch. It was a little rusty and stiff but with another push, it opened wide. I grabbed hold of the edge and pulled myself up. I dug my hands into the dirt, clawing for purchase, then I felt hands under my heels as Lily gave me a hard shove. I popped through the window, my triceps screaming.

Pop. Pop.

Lily’s heels suddenly fired through the window and bopped me on the head.

I turned over in time to see her head appear at the window. “Coming through,” she said as she levered herself up. I tucked my hands under her arms and pulled and we fell backwards. “That wasn’t so bad. We escaped! Hurrah!”

I grinned, then my face fell as fat water droplets landed on my dress.

Water sprinklers began to fire all over the yard, dousing us in a plume of cold water.