“No, Terry,” I protested. “I don’t want him to know that I’m connected to you or Judy in any way.”
“Then I should be the one to go,” Abby broke in, angling her head and arching one black eyebrow to the hilt. “If there’s one thing in the world I’m good at, it’s dealing with tricky guys like Roscoe. If they gave out an Oscar for Best Manhandler, I’d win it every year.”
I had no doubt of that, but I was still determined to meet-and interview-Roscoe Swift on my own. And to see Judy’s apartment for myself. “Actually, there’s something else I was hoping the two of you might do today.”
“What?!!!” they cried in unison. A girl couldn’t ask for two more eager assistants.
“I thought you could take Judy’s jewelry-or some of it, anyway-uptown to the Diamond Exchange and show it around to some of the dealers. Maybe one of them will recognize the stones or the settings. Maybe someone there will know where the jewelry came from, or who bought it, or if it was stolen. I would do this myself, but I’m afraid to walk around town all alone with a bag full of diamonds. I’d just be asking for trouble. But if the two of you…”
“Say no more!” Abby chimed in. “I’m so perfect for this job it’s silly! In case it slipped your mind, I’m Jewish! And every Jew on earth has relatives who work at the Diamond Exchange. Three of my cousins work there, and my Uncle Sam and Aunt Dora do, too! If they can’t give us the lowdown on the ice themselves, they’ll probably know somebody who can.”
I gazed at Terry, trying to gauge his reaction to Abby’s religious revelation. If he showed any signs of anti-Semi tism (as so many white Christian males I knew often did-Brandon Pomeroy and Mario Caruso, to name but two), I’d be so disappointed in him I wouldn’t be able to breathe. I wouldn’t turn my back on him, or stop looking for his sister’s killer, but I’d continue my investigation with drastically diminished zeal-and a very heavy heart.
Not to worry. Terry showed no prejudice at all. If anything, he was excited about Abby’s family connections. “That’s great, Abby!” he cried. “Let’s get the diamonds and go over there right now!” His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were glowing. And though he didn’t look a bit like Mickey Rooney, I still half expected him to add, “And let’s get all the kids together and put on a show in the barn!” Abby looked at me and smiled. Her big brown Judy Garland eyes were glowing, too. As if reading my thoughts, she winked at me and said, “Your wish is our command, Paige. Give us the rocks, and we’ll be off to see the wizard.”
Chapter 14
“WOW!” ABBY EXCLAIMED, STARING DOWN at the glittering mound of jewelry I’d just removed from the oatmeal container and placed on my kitchen table. “Nice little stash of sparklers.” She poked her index finger into the pile and-with the uncanny precision of a Geiger counter-plucked out the most desirable piece (i.e., the one with the most diamonds). “Now that’s what I call a necklace,” she said, quickly clasping the double string of gems around her throat. “Mind if I try it on?”
I told you she was going to do that, remember? Self-restraint was not one of Abby’s specialties. I only hoped it didn’t bother Terry that she was suddenly prancing around my kitchen like the Duchess of Windsor, sporting his poor dead sister’s necklace-and now her earrings, too!-with such unbounded glee.
“Do you think you should take all the jewelry with you, or just some of it?” I said to Terry, hoping to divert his attention to more serious matters. “I suppose it’s important to have each and every piece checked out… but if you happened to get robbed, or anything like that, it would be terrible to lose all the evidence.”
“I’m not worried about getting robbed,” Terry said. “I’m just worried about getting arrested.”
“What?!! What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that I stole these diamonds from Detective Hugo Sweeny’s office, and he probably thinks I’m trying to sell them now, so he-or one of his bloodhounds-may be sniffing around the Diamond Exchange, looking for me.”
“God! I hadn’t thought of that!” I said, head spinning. “But what makes you think the police are looking for you here in New York? It’s far more likely they’re in Pittsburgh, sitting in an unmarked car outside your father’s house, waiting for you-and the diamonds-to come home for Christmas.”
“You’re right about the last part,” he said. “Two dicks are sitting in a car outside my father’s house. But neither one of them is Sweeny. They’re two of Pittsburgh ’s finest, doing a little freelance surveillance work for their fellow flatfoots in New York. I know this because they paid my dad a visit yesterday. They grilled him about where I was, and when I was coming home, and they-or two other jokers like them-have been watching the house ever since.”
“So you’ve spoken to your father.”
“Yeah, twice. Yesterday, when I called to tell him I couldn’t get home because the buses weren’t running, and again this morning, when I called to find out how he was doing and if the cops were still there.”
“See? I told you they’d be looking for you,” I said. “Thank God for the snowstorm! If your bus had left on schedule, you’d be in jail right now-and you wouldn’t be getting out until you turned the diamonds over to the police…” I had a disturbing afterthought, and added, “… which means you would have had to turn me over to them, too.”
Oh, lordy, lordy, lordy! I shrieked to myself, heaving my breast and rolling my eyes like Hattie McDaniel. Why hadn’t I foreseen this possible consequence before? Was I a selfless and fearless defender of truth and justice-or just a stupid fool? (Don’t answer that!) When I thought how furious Dan would have been to learn about my willing (not to mention illegal) participation, I almost wet my pants.
“Hey, what are you two gabbing about?” Abby broke in, finally waking from her diamond-studded daydreams. By this point, all of Judy’s jewelry-the necklace, the earrings, the pin, and both bracelets-was draped, or screwed, or clipped to Abby’s body in the customary places. She looked like a goddamn chandelier. “Am I missing anything?” she asked.
“Just a tiara,” I snapped. “But if we ever find Smythe, maybe he’ll buy you one.”
“That’s not what I meant!” Abby squawked, giving me a dirty look. “I was talking about your conversation with Whitey, and you know it!”
“Oh, that!” I teased, smiling, glad that Abby had returned (sort of) to the realm of reality-and that I hadn’t been thrown in jail (yet!) for tampering with evidence. “We were just discussing whether or not it’s too dangerous for Terry to go to the Diamond Exchange today. One or more of the detectives involved in Judy’s homicide investigation may be casing the joint, looking for him.”
“Why would they be doing that?” she wanted to know.
Terry explained the situation to her, and she grasped it quickly. She even came up with a possible solution to the problem.
“You can wear a disguise!” she whooped, getting excited by her own idea. “Something that will hide your white hair and help you meld into the crowd.” She wrinkled her brow in thought for a few seconds, and then the light bulb over her head flashed about a thousand watts brighter. “I’ve got it!” she cried. “The perfect camouflage, you dig? And I think we have everything we need to put the getup together. Hey bobba ree bop! C’mon, Whitey, let’s go across the hall. I’ll round up the stuff and you can try it on. You wait here, Paige. When we’re all finished, we’ll come over and you can be the judge of the results.”