Jack arrived in Manhattan via the Lincoln Tunnel and went directly crosstown. He drove past Sutton Square and saw a black-and-white parked outside Nellie’s townhouse. After making a U-turn under the bridge, he drove back down to the mid-fifties and parked near a hydrant on Sutton Place South. He waited and watched. Before too long he saw the black-and-white pull out of Sutton Square and head uptown. He cruised around until he found a working pay phone and used it to call Nellie’s.
“Hello?” Gia’s voice was tense, expectant.
“It’s Jack, Gia. Everything okay?”
“No.” She seemed to relax. Now she just sounded tired.
“Police gone?”
“Just left.”
“I’m coming over—that is, if you don’t mind.”
Jack expected an argument and some abuse; instead, Gia said, “No, I don’t mind.”
“Be there in a minute.”
He got back into the car, pulled the Semmerling from under the seat and strapped it to his ankle. Gia hadn’t given him an argument. She must be terrified.
15
Gia had never thought she would be glad to see Jack again. But when she opened the door and he was standing there on the front step, it required all her reserve to keep from leaping into his arms. The police had been no help. In fact, the two officers who finally showed up in response to her call had acted as if she were wasting their time. They had given the house a cursory once-over inside and out, had seen no sign of forced entry, had hung around asking a few questions, then had gone, leaving her alone with Vicky in this big empty house.
Jack stepped into the foyer. For a moment it seemed he would lift his arms and hold them out to her. Instead, he turned and closed the door behind him. He looked tired.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“Vicky, too?”
“Yes. She’s asleep.” Gia felt as ill at ease as Jack looked.
“What happened?”
She told him about Vicky’s nightmare and her subsequent search of the house for Nellie.
“The police find anything?”
“Nothing. ’No sign of foul play,’ as they so quaintly put it. I believe they think Nellie’s gone off to meet Grace somewhere on some kind of senile lark!”
“Is that possible?”
Gia’s immediate reaction was anger that Jack could even consider such a thing, then realized that to someone who didn’t know Nellie and Grace the way she did, it might seem as good an explanation as any.
“No! Utterly impossible!”
“Okay. I’ll take your word for it. How about the alarm system?”
“The first floor was set. As you know, they had the upper levels disconnected. “
“So it’s the same as with Grace: The Lady Vanishes.”
“I don’t think this is the time for cute movie references, Jack.”
“I know,” he said apologetically. “It’s just my frame of reference. Let’s take a look at her room.”
As Gia led him up to the second floor, she realized that for the first time since she had seen Nellie’s empty bed she was beginning to relax. Jack exuded competence. There was an air about him that made her feel that things were finally under control here, that nothing was going to happen without his say-so.
He wandered through Nellie’s bedroom in a seemingly nonchalant manner, but she noticed that his eyes constantly darted about, and that he never touched anything with his fingertips—with the side or back of a hand, with the flat edge of a fingernail or a knuckle, but never in any way that might conceivably leave a print. All of which served as an uncomfortable reminder of Jack’s state of mind and his relationship with the law.
He nudged the French doors open with a foot. Warm humid air swam into the room.
“Did the cops unlock this?”
Gia shook her head. “No. It wasn’t even latched, just closed over.”
Jack stepped out onto the tiny balcony and looked over the railing.
“Just like Grace’s,” he said. “Did they check below?”
“They were out there with flashlights—said there was no sign that a ladder or the like had been used.”
“Just like Grace.” He came in and elbowed the doors closed. “Doesn’t make sense. And the oddest part is that you wouldn’t have found out she was gone until sometime tomorrow if it hadn’t been for Vicky’s nightmare.” He looked at her. “You’re sure it was a nightmare? Is it possible she heard something that woke her up and scared her and you only thought it was a nightmare?”
“Oh, it was a nightmare, all right. She thought Mr. Grape-grabber was stealing Ms. Jelliroll.” Gia’s insides gave a small lurch as she remembered Vicky’s scream—”She even thought she saw him in the backyard.”
Jack stiffened. “She saw someone?”
“Not someone. Mr. Grape-grabber. Her doll.”
“Go through it all step by step, from the time you awoke until you called the police.”
“I went through it all for those two cops.”
“Do it again for me. Please. It may be important.”
Gia told him of awakening to Vicky’s screams, of looking out the window and seeing nothing, of going down to Nellie’s room…
“One thing I didn’t mention to the police was the smell in the room.”
“Perfume? After shave?”
“No. A rotten smell.” Recalling the odor made her uneasy. “Putrid.”
Jack’s face tightened. “Like a dead animal?”
“Yes. Exactly. How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.” He suddenly seemed tense. He went into Nellie’s bathroom and checked all the bottles. He didn’t seem to find what he was looking for. “Did you catch that odor anywhere else in the house?”
“No. What’s so important about an odor?”
He turned to her. “I’m not sure. But remember what I told you this morning?”
“You mean about not drinking anything strange like Grace’s laxative?”
“Right. Did Nellie buy anything like that? Or did anything like it come to the house?”
Gia thought for a moment. “No… the only thing we’ve received lately is a box of chocolates from my ex-husband.”
“For you?”
“Hardly! For Nellie. They’re her favorite. Seem to be a pretty popular brand. Nellie mentioned them to your Indian lady’s brother last night.” Was last night Saturday night? It seemed so long ago. “He called today to find out where he could order some.”
Jack’s eyebrows rose. “Kusum?”
“You sound surprised.”
“Just that he doesn’t strike me as a chocolate fan. More like a brown rice and water type.”
Gia knew what he meant. Kusum had ascetic written all over him.
As they walked back into the hall, Jack said, “What’s this Mr. Grape-grabber look like?”
“Like a purple Snidely Whiplash. I’ll get it for you.”
She led Jack up to the third floor and left him outside in the hall while she tip-toed over to the night table and picked up the doll.
“Mommy?”
Gia started at the unexpected sound. Vicky had a habit of doing that. Late at night, when she should have been sound asleep, she would let her mother walk in and bend over to kiss her good night; at the last moment she would open her eyes and say, “Hi.” It was spooky sometimes.
“Yes, honey?”
“I heard you talking downstairs. Is Jack here?”
Gia hesitated, but could see no way to get out of telling her.
“Yes. But I want you to lie there and go back to—”
Too late. Vicky was out of bed and running for the hall.
“Jack-Jack-Jack!”
He had her up in his arms and she was hugging him by the time Gia reached the hall.