Chapter Fourteen

“Ruby, you just blew my case wide open.”

Ruby beamed. “You’re welcome! I think?” She frowned, apparently uncertain if I were serious.

“You did,” I insisted, my excitement rising. “I think this is it. I think this is the ruby!”

“My dad didn’t do it,” she said quickly. “I swear.”

“Is he a criminal?” I wondered.

“Only occasionally,” she said. “And never jewels. It’s pure coincidence he was in New York at the time that ruby was stolen. Plus, he’s not smart enough. Whoever stole it is a hundred times smarter than my dad.”

“Maybe not,” I said, thinking about the shallow grave.

“What does the article say?” asked Lily. “Does it name any suspects?”

“It looks like the ruby was the centerpiece of an exhibition of the state jewels and treasures of a small European country called Rachenstein. The jewels were on a year’s tour of major museums, in celebration of the crowning of their new king.” I paused to read ahead, then continued. “New York was their penultimate stop in the US, having already exhibited in Los Angeles and Chicago. Its final stop was due to be in Washington DC before the tour returned to Europe, then home. It seems like it was also a way of encouraging tourism for Rachenstein.”

“Look how cute it is,” said Lily, turning her phone. She’d opened to Instagram and ran her finger down the screen, showing picture after picture of pretty castles surrounded by spring flora, quaint cottages against an array of snow-capped towering conifers, and cobbled streets bordered with pretty boutiques.

“Girls’ trip?” suggested Ruby. “Look here, we can get rooms in a renovated library that has wild deer visiting its gardens. How romantic!”

“I’d feel like I was in a Disney film,” I said. “And I’m not complaining. That sounds dreamy.”

“Wait until you see the cocktail menu,” said Ruby, “and they serve afternoon tea.”

“Tell us more about the ruby and then ask Solomon if we can take an all-expense paid trip to Rachenstein for research,” said Lily.

“I don’t think he’ll go for that,” I said.

“ Research ,” said Lily slowly.

“All three of us?”

“I can take notes,” said Ruby.

“And I’ll drive,” said Lily. “Although it seems they have horse-drawn sleighs in the winter.” She sighed.

I laughed and returned my attention to the article. “So the jewels had their big opening night in a society gala thrown by the museum and the very next day they were gone.”

“How?” asked Ruby.

“It doesn’t say. Only that the museum director was incredulous and the police are following a number of leads. Let me see if I can find more.” I hit the back tab and scrolled to the next article. “Okay. Oh, wow! Here it says the theft caused a huge diplomatic incident with Rachenstein and the exhibition was immediately closed with the announcement that every exhibit remaining would be returned to their country at once.”

I was ready to read through several more articles when the agency number flashed on my phone. “Gotta take this,” I said, half-turning and expecting Lily and Ruby to entertain themselves for a moment. Only they didn’t move an inch. Instead, they waited expectantly. “Hey?” I said.

“I have results for you,” said Lucas. “Not a whole bunch but I have your Gideon Black’s birth records. Mom and Dad listed. Philippine and Charles Black. Mom deceased nine years later, accidental drowning.”

“That much I know from Garrett,” I said. “Not the drowning part, but the dad bit.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t hard to find. No siblings. You asked about a Madeleine and I couldn’t find any in the family history. Mom was French, no family left. She immigrated here a few years prior to her marriage. She worked as a teacher at a private school. Dad has a very patchy work history, nothing of note.”

“So Madeleine is not his sister,” I said, contemplating that. Of course it was another lie. No surprise there.

“Not legally. Definitely not via the mother. Could be unregistered to the father.”

“Or simply a lie. You’re sure there’s definitely no siblings?”

“None, unless they’re unregistered. If I had DNA, I could do some more poking around.”

“Sorry, I don’t have any lying around. The work history… Patchy how?” I asked.

“Black was born into a wealthy family whose fortunes took a nosedive after bad investments and big purchases. Private funds ran out in his early twenties, prior to his marriage. Not through his fault; the dad was profligate. He had a heart attack and died and the widow was left to sell everything to settle debts.”

“Would there be enough money left for Black to put Gideon through boarding school and a private university?” I asked.

“No. When I say there was no money, I mean no money . The widow had enough to buy a property for herself. Grand to most people but it would’ve been a huge downgrade for her, and a moderate pension until she passed. She wasn’t much better with handling money. The house was mortgaged heavily and she ran up debts. Black inherited very little when she passed a few years later. He was married by then.

“I didn’t find any arrest records for Charles or Gideon Black. A driving misdemeanor for the dad twenty-five years ago that he got a slap on the wrist for. That’s it. I have sales records of the Black homes and there are a couple articles about their fall from grace in the finance and society sections, which probably embarrassed the heck out of them back in the day. I’ve forwarded them to your email.”

“Thanks.”

“I wish I could say I had more recent news but Charles Black pretty much disappears while the kiddo is young and I hardly find anything after Philippine dies. I’ve got school records for the boy but nothing to indicate where they lived and then records show he’s a boarder from age thirteen. The costs were paid through a trust that paid the school directly and also deposited an allowance into the kid’s account at the start of every month. After graduating, the school fees stopped and university fees were drawn. The account was almost drained after Gideon graduated with his master’s degree. Here’s what’s interesting: the account was paid into semi-regularly until the kid was seventeen, then all payments stopped.”

“That fits with when the ME thinks Charlie Black died.”

“Yeah, I’d say this corroborates it.”

“Any idea where the money came from?”

“Some cash deposits. Some wired in from offshore accounts. One in the Caymans. One in a European country known for its extreme privacy in banking.”

“Rachenstein?” I wondered.

“No.”

“What about Gideon Black? Do you have anything else on him?”

“I found a man of the same name registered for a master’s degree in Paris and then a postgraduate program on his return to the US. That’s it. He disappears too. Do you want me to keep digging?”

“Please,” I said, “but let me know if it’s fruitless. And can you check his aliases too? Ben Rafferty. Tom Benedict. Also Charlie Black instead of Charles Black. Can you send your research to Garrett too, please?”

“Of course. Ben Rafferty I did and cross-referenced with Gideon Black. Asides from the arrest you already know about, there’s nothing that connects to the man we’re looking for. Do you want me to play around with the name combinations?”

“Yes. It’s a longshot but maybe there’s a reason he chooses particular names.

“I’ll get back to you,” said Lucas and disconnected.

“Good news?” asked Lily. When I turned to face her and Ruby, they were already leaning across the bar. I was pretty sure they’d heard everything.

“Frustrating more than anything. Our suspect knows how to cover his tracks but we do know a few more things about him now, and the timeline for our dead guy’s disappearance is becoming more conclusive. It seems like Black, regardless of aliases and who knows what else, really cared about his son. He made sure he was looked after.”

“What about the documents we found yesterday? Where they any help?” asked Lily.

“That’s my next task. Want to come?”

“I can cover the bar,” said Ruby.

“Then you bet I want to come! Let me grab my stuff,” said Lily, grinning broadly. Then she stopped and asked, “Should I get an umbrella? Or will a poncho do?”

“Neither I hope.”

“Both then,” said Lily as she disappeared around the corner of the bar.

“I hope it is the ruby,” said Ruby while I waited. “It would be the find of the century and it sounds like you’d solve a mystery that’s kept people guessing for decades!”

“If it is, I’ll make sure you’re credited.”

“Thanks! Dibs on any tiaras they might give you in their undying appreciation and gratitude.”

“We’ll have a long way to go to prove their ruby is our ruby but even if it isn’t, you’ve given me some ideas to broaden my search for stolen gems. There’s no way someone isn’t missing a stone that size.”

“And if they are, then it’s probably of dubious origin anyway,” said Ruby. “Or what if they already collected a huge insurance payout? They might not want it back.”

“I wonder how a person even insures something like that?” I pondered, not expecting a reply.

“Beats me. I’m just a bar manager. Rubies and diamonds are a whole different world to mine, despite my name.”

“Ready!” called Lily, coming around my side of the bar. She’d tied her curls into a poofy ponytail and removed her apron and “Manager” pin. “Where to first?”

“I tried all the phone numbers and they’re long dead but I have two addresses to check out,” I said as we left the bar.

“Maybe they can give us the skinny on this guy.”

“I’d like to think so but I assume our expectations should be in the gutter. I expect to find they’re fake. One is a past address and the other two are for references and our forger admitted he could make those.”

“Wouldn’t he have been found out at the time if he’d handed over a forged document?”

I beeped my car unlocked and we climbed in. “Security was a lot more lax twenty years ago. I think it would be easy to fake references and not have anyone check up on them, especially if you were the kind of handsome, charming, guy Charlie Black parading as Joe Smithson apparently was. I think he would have an answer for everything. ‘Oh, you can’t get through on the phone? Let me pick up a letter of reference for you! It’s no trouble!’” I mimicked. “’What’s that? They don’t remember me? Whom did you speak to? Mabel? She’s a hoot! Always messing with people. I’ll get them to give you a call,’ then pay a woman twenty bucks to call and give a reference over the phone.”

“That’s how we used to give each other glowing references,” said Lily, cracking a smile.

“And that’s why I know how easy it is to get a fake reference.”

“We could have taught this guy a thing or two.”

“Yeah, and he could have taught us a hundred.”

Our first stop was the three thousand block of Glenhaven Road but I couldn’t find 3406. We double-backed, then on the third pass, I pulled over at a disused scrub of land with six-foot-high fencing and bold “STAY OUT!” signs at regular intervals. “This is why we can’t find it,” I said, pointing. “It’s been knocked down.”

“Strike one,” said Lily. “A lot of the neighboring businesses look like they’re going or are already gone out of business.”

I followed her gaze to the boarded-up windows and the “Everything Must Go” signs on neighboring properties. “I don’t think we’re going to find anyone who remembers a business here twenty years ago, much less, a man who once needed a reference. Next!”

The second address on my list had been turned into a grocery superstore with a sprawling parking lot more than ten years ago.

“I remember this now,” said Lily. “There was a campaign to save the neighborhood but the grocery store had bought up the land rights on either side and were steadily buying all the houses in the middle. I think a couple of households refused to move until the grocery store made them a big offer and that was it. By the end of the year, the street was flattened and the store was being built.”

“I remember the store being built because Mom was irrationally excited about it but I don’t remember the fight about the land. Black couldn’t have foreseen the development so many years before.”

“The original homeowners might still be local.”

“Yeah, but he listed this address as a former rental residence. They might never have met him. You know what would be interesting? Finding out what happened to his stuff when he disappeared.”

“The things he left in his house?”

“Yeah. While we drive to the next place, can you look through the pictures I took and see if it says what happened to them? I think there was a receipt for a house clearance company. Did the Greenbergs keep any of his stuff? Or toss it all?” I passed Lily my phone and unlocked it to the image folder. As she scrolled up, I pulled a U-turn, heading back the way we came. The final residential address listed was in Chilton, only a couple of streets from my home. A number of the residences on that street had been divided up into apartments but Black had only listed a number.

“Found it,” said Lily. “Oh, no.”

“They tossed his stuff?”

“As good as. They made a note here saying all his belongings were kept for six months by the clearance agency, then donated to Goodwill.”

“That’s all long gone,” I said.

“You’re not disappointed?”

“No. It was too much to ask that they kept the stuff. I’m surprised they stored it for that long but I’m not surprised it was later donated. They kept it long enough to consider it a good deed to a former tenant that skipped out.”

“I hope the next place isn’t knocked down too. I feel this trip would be more enjoyable if we got some answers.”

“Such is the life of a PI,” I said although I agreed with her. “But I do know that street is fully intact so the house will be there. We’ll find out about the owners when we get there.”

“What happens if that’s a dead end too?”

“Then I’ll have to stop searching in the past and see what I can do about the future,” I said, thinking about something Maddox had said.

“What does that mean?”

“It means we need to lure out Ben Rafferty-slash-Gideon Black. Out of everybody that could have been in Charlie Black’s life, I figure Gideon has to know his father best.” However, as I said it, I wasn’t sure that was true. Gideon had been in boarding school for a large chunk of his childhood. Would a child really know what nefarious and illegal activities his father was potentially engaged in? Or did Gideon grow up thinking his father was the salesman he purported to be? The more I thought about it, the more I was certain Gideon knew the real story behind his father. The question was: did he know at the time of his father’s disappearance? Was it possible the jewels weren’t anything to do with Charlie’s death but a son angry at his father? I wished I knew.

Tilden Street was a tree-lined street of brownstone houses with steps leading from the sidewalk up to the front doors, giving them an imposing look.

We parked at the end of the block and walked back, finding our target to be neatly kept with a small magnolia tree in the front yard.

I knocked on the door and waited, Lily hovering behind me.

The man who answered was portly, balding, and holding an excessively fluffy dog with fur the color of gold. If he’d told me it was a lion cub, I would have believed him. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“We’re looking for a man who lived here around twenty years ago,” I said.

“You’re looking at him.” The man eyed me over and frowned. Then the dog did the same. His tongue flopped out and a dribble of drool hit the front stoop. The dog, not the man.

“You lived here twenty years ago?”

“I have. My wife and I bought this house thirty years ago.”

“Then perhaps you had a lodger named Joe Smithson?”

“No, we’ve never had a lodger. We would never have had space for one between the kids and the dogs, and that one time we had a goat.”

“A goat?” asked Lily.

“It lived in the backyard. A whimsy of my wife’s. Good for lawn mowing apparently, although our goat ate everything else. I recommend a lawn mower.”

“Good to know. So you never rented a room or sublet to anyone?”

“No. Like I said, we always had a house full. What’s this about?”

“I’m a private investigator,” I said, pulling out my license to pass to him. He held it between his thumb and forefinger and nodded. “I’m checking into the background details of someone who once listed your address as a previous address of theirs.” The dog stretched his muzzle towards me, took a long sniff, and then continued to stare at me. The man put the dog on the floor, then lifted the glasses resting on a chain around his neck and gazed at the card.

“A PI, eh? Well, that’s interesting. All I can tell you is we never had any tenants. Not now, and not twenty years ago.”

“Can I show you a photo?”

“Of course. I have nothing better to do,” he said dryly. The dog slumped to the floor and rested his jaw on the man’s slipper.

I pulled out my phone, swiping to the one good photo I had. The photo Charlie Black had in his pocket on his death.

The man took my phone in his hand and consulted it. A small furrow appeared on his forehead. “It’s been a long time but I would recognize him anywhere,” he said. “You say his name is Joe Smithson?”

“That’s the name he was using.”

“Yes. Joe. I remember him. He tried charming my wife.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, she knocked him back but it didn’t stop him trying. From what she said, I think he was scouting around for a well-off woman who would either house or help him. He wasn’t too impressed when he realized I was around but it didn’t stop him from keeping the sweet talk going. My wife always did like helping people.”

“Did she help Joe?”

“Only with little things. Treated him to lunch here and there, introduced him to people. I think he was new in town. It wouldn’t surprise me if he convinced her to give him a reference. What was it for again? A job?”

“A rental house in West Montgomery.”

“Right. Yes, I doubt she’d see a problem with telling a white lie for that.”

“Could we speak to her?” I asked.

“Unfortunately not. She passed two years ago.”

“I’m very sorry.”

“Us too,” he said and the dog yapped and thumped its tail. “It’s like all the warmth went out of the house with her.”

“May her memory be a blessing,” said Lily.

“Very kind of you, young lady,” he said to her as he returned my phone.

“You have a good memory to recognize Joe from so long ago,” I said.

He nodded. “I haven’t thought a single thing about him in years but that photo brought it all back. I remember how very charming everyone thought he was, so erudite. Not me though. I thought he was loathsome. There was something very unpleasant and oily behind his charm. I was glad when he seemed to disappear.”

“Disappear?”

“He stopped coming around my wife and her friends. There was a rumor of something stolen, I think. I’m not sure whether that was hearts or jewelry or something else, but he became persona non grata with our crowd.”

“Do you remember who was involved? Whom he stole from?”

“I’m afraid not. Even if I did, I doubt anyone would talk about it. They all like gossip but not if it’s about themselves,” he added with a wry smile. “Dare I ask what Joe has done?”

“We’re not sure yet,” I said.

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” added Lily.

“Well, whatever it is, it can’t be good,” said the man. From the ground, the dog lifted his head and whined.

“I wonder what he stole,” said Lily as we headed back to the car. “Like father, like son, right? I bet he tried to make off with jewelry and someone’s wife.”

“In terms of people, you can’t steal someone who doesn’t want to be stolen,” I said.

“Did you get that off a fridge magnet?”

“No!”

“Motivational quote of the day?”

“No.”

“Fortune teller?”

“No!”

“We’re having a fortune teller afternoon next week at the bar. You should come.”

“Ooh, okay.”

“I knew you’d say that so I already put you on the list. What now?”

I paused to think. “Now I tell Garrett we enact Plan B. It’s time to draw anyone who knows Joe out of the woodwork.”

“Can’t wait to find out what mayhem that causes,” said Lily.