Beth’s eyes widened. “Thelma Kudlach married a Verichenko. Manny, I believe. So that makes you…”
“Thelma’s great-great-grandson. You and I are cousins, Mrs. Breslauer. I’m one of the family. And I know the real deal. I know that my grandmother started working the boardwalk in Atlantic City when she was five years old. And my grandfather picked pockets for a living-when he wasn’t in jail. So don’t try to tell me your family was just like everyone else’s. And don’t tell me the Seven Sisters is some urban legend. I know better, got it?”
Beth didn’t say a word. No one did. There was only stunned silence.
Until Mitch said, “Beth, how did you and Bertha happen to hook up?”
Beth didn’t respond. Just reached for her iced tea and took a sip, her hand trembling slightly.
“It was my idea,” Bertha spoke up. “My attorney tracked her down for me. I wanted to meet her. Her grandfather was the great love of my life, after all. We got together for lunch in the city one day and became friends. Went shopping together. Took in the occasional matinee. I still enjoy a good musical-not that these girls today can dance. They’re as graceful as Clydesdales. After Beth sold her place in Scarsdale she was looking to buy a condo out this way. I let her know when a unit became available here.”
Very leafed through Augie’s file once more. “Before he died, Mrs. Breslauer, your late husband lost a ton of money in the subprime housing meltdown. You were forced to sell that house in Scarsdale for significantly less than what it had been assessed at two years earlier.”
“I wasn’t forced to sell it.” Beth was growing testy now. “I chose to. I got nearly two million dollars for the place, free and clear. And Irwin’s investment portfolio still amounted to more than a half-million in good, solid stocks and bonds. And he’d taken out a substantial life insurance policy. My investment advisor has set me up so that I can live very comfortably without touching so much as one penny of the principal. Take it from me, Lieutenant. I don’t need to pick anyone’s pockets.”
“Would it surprise you if I said Dawgie thought otherwise?”
“Nothing you can say about that man would surprise me.”
“He tailed you and Vinnie to the Mohegan Sun. Were you aware of that?”
Beth made a face. “Of course. I spotted him right off.”
“And how did you feel about it?”
“I was annoyed, naturally. But Augie liked to annoy me. Took delight in it, in fact.”
“He thought you and Vinnie were working the place,” Very explained. “Lifting handbags, jewelry and the like.”
“Don’t be absurd. We frequent the Mohegan Sun because Vincent enjoys the blackjack tables. Gambling happens to be legal there, you know. I get a spa treatment. We have a nice meal together. Go upstairs to our room and make love. He likes to keep the lights on. I like to be on top. Would you care for any more dirty details, Lieutenant Very?”
“No,” he answered abruptly. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“Then kindly tell me why my personal life is any of your damned business.”
“Because Dawgie was following you and now he’s dead.”
“You sound as if you believe there’s a connection.”
“Maybe there is. Vinnie does know people.”
“You’re thinking he put out a contract on Augie? Don’t make me laugh. Vincent runs a hair salon. He’s a family man.”
“Yeah, the Albanese family. I’ve got your boy’s criminal arrest record right here.” Very stabbed the file folder with his finger. “Vinnie’s been in the system since he boosted his first car when he was sixteen. He took a pop for breaking and entering one year later. Followed by armed assault. Followed by attempted extortion. Followed by… should I go on?”
“That’s not necessary…” Beth answered faintly.
“I’ll have to talk to him as soon I get back to the city. Hear his version of where you two were last night.”
“Go right ahead. At his salon, if you please. Not his home. He’ll confirm everything I’ve said. Everything.” Brave words. Except Beth didn’t come off sounding brave. She sounded deflated. And her color wasn’t very good all of a sudden. It was gray like putty. “May I pour you more iced tea, Lieutenant?”
“No, thanks. We’re done here.”
She managed a smile at Mitch. “I’ll tell Kenny that you stopped by. He’ll be sorry he missed you.”
“Likewise. Could you give him a message for me?”
“Of course, dear. What is it?”
“Tell him I said: ‘Chance is but a fool’s name for fate.’ ”
“What the hell’s that mean?” Very demanded as they started down the hallway toward the back door of the Captain Chadwick House. “ ‘Chance is but a fool’s name for fate?’ That some kind of a code?”
“It’s a line from a Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers movie called The Gay Divorcee. Not that Kenny will guess it in a million years. We’ve been playing the same movie game since we were kids,” Mitch explained. “Kind of like you’ve been playing games with me.”
“Dude, I don’t know where you’re going with that.”
“Yeah, you do. You told me you became a cop for family reasons. Yet you were purposely vague. Now I know why.”
“My dad took a job with the Port Authority of New York after he got out of Fordham. The man hated what he knew about the family. And he made sure I grew up hating it, too.”
“You became a cop so you could right your family’s wrongs, is that it?”
“Yeah, that’s me-the gen-next righteous avenger.” Very narrowed his eyes at Mitch. “Why, you got a problem with that?”
“You should have told me that you and Beth were related.”
“You’re right, I should have,” he acknowledged. “Are we good now?”
“I don’t know what we are, Lieutenant. But we’re not good.”
The back door of the building opened onto a brick path that led out to the garages. A precious dozen or so of those lush, flowering Captain Chadwick Blush Noisette rosebushes lined both sides of the path. Maddee Farrell was pruning one of them back, a pair of garden gloves on her hands to protect against the thorns. Unlike Bitsy Peck, who tended her garden with a contented glow on her face, Maddee worked with feverish tenacity, every muscle taut, her jaw clenched. For her, that rosebush wasn’t a pleasant diversion. It was a crusade. Dex was seated beside her on a folding canvas chair working on the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle.
“Your roses look very nice, Mrs. Farrrell,” Mitch observed.
“Why, thank you.” Maddee flashed a tight smile at him. “It’s not easy keeping them healthy, you know, what with the insects and diseases and ball-playing louts.”
Mitch nodded politely, although he was unaware of any Captain Chadwick House resident who played any kind of ball, loutish or otherwise. “Mrs. Farrell, this is Lieutenant Very. He’s a police officer from New York City.”
Very nodded at her. “How are you, ma’am?”
“Rather alarmed, now that you ask,” Maddee replied loftily. “We both are. Isn’t that right, Dex?”
Dex didn’t respond. Didn’t look up from his puzzle. Didn’t so much as acknowledge their presence.
“A man has been beaten to death in the middle of the Historic District, Lieutenant. This sort of behavior is simply not Dorset, I assure you. Why would anyone do such a horrible thing?”
“That’s what the state police are trying to ascertain,” Very replied.
“Thirty-six across, Mr. Berger,” Dex said suddenly, tapping the puzzle with his pencil. “The clue is ‘Actor Ray.’ The answer would be
…?”
“That depends on whether you need four letters or six. If it’s four then I’d go with Aldo Ray. You may remember him as Davie Hucko in the Tracy-Hepburn movie Pat and Mike. If it’s six letters then they’re probably referring to Ray Liotta, the star of Goodfellas.”
“Two, three, four letters…” Dex murmured. “And Aldo fits. I already have the O. Thank you, Mr. Berger.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
“I hope you haven’t forgotten my invitation. The world is full of lunatics and bores. Do stop by for some lemonade and a talk.”
“I’ll be happy to.”