Carol Clark: Fleeced

“One of them had a heart attack in front of a bus and the other slipped in the tub last night. But if you ask me, something smells about the whole thing.” Thomas’s voice was trembling, but his words came tumbling out in a torrent. “Not just smells. Reeks! I just had lunch with the two of them yesterday. They told me they planned to sell four valuable diamonds and donate the proceeds to the club. It would have meant about four million dollars for us.”

“Well, won’t that still happen?”

“The diamonds are missing!”

“Missing?”

Thomas relayed to Regan the story of everything that had happened the day before. “And the red box with the diamonds is not with the rest of the jewelry. It’s gone.”

“What do the police say?” Regan asked.

“Well, I’m not completely sure.”

“Why not?”

“Because I fainted.”

“Oh dear.”

“It was so embarrassing. When I came to, they brought me downstairs to my apartment, and the doctor gave me a sedative and told me to get a good night’s sleep. I was in shock.”

“But you didn’t get a good night’s sleep.”

“Lord, no! After a couple of hours I was wide awake again. It’s bad enough to think that Nat and Ben are both gone, but I’m convinced that someone is trying to get away with murder and theft. The police think Nat just hit his head, but I think someone came in here and killed him and stole the diamonds.”

“You don’t have anything in writing about their intention to give the club the money from the diamonds?”

“No. This all came up just yesterday. It was going to be made public on Saturday night at our one hundredth anniversary party.”

“But you saw the diamonds?”

“They were sitting next to my Cobb salad during most of lunch. Every once in a while they let me open up the box and stare at them. They were so beautiful.”

“Could Ben have taken the diamonds home with him?” Regan asked.

“That would be bad too.”

“Why?”

“Because his wallet was missing by the time they got him to the hospital. If he had the diamonds on him, they would surely have been taken along with his wallet. Luckily his Settlers’ Club card was found in his pocket.”

“That red box could be hidden in the apartment somewhere.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because Nat mentioned at lunch that he was glad he wouldn’t have to worry about forgetting the combination to the safe anymore.”

“Why did they own the diamonds together?”

“They were both jewelers. They were part of a group of four jewelers who played cards together every week for fifty years in Nat’s apartment. They called themselves the Suits, after the spades, hearts, clubs, and diamonds in the deck. Of course the diamonds were their favorite. Way back when, they’d each brought the most beautiful, valuable diamond they owned to one of the games. They made a pact not to tell anyone about these jewels-except for Wendy, Nat’s wife, who was in the apartment that night-and the last one alive would get to keep all four diamonds. Survivor takes all, they called it. Well, two of them died last year before I started this job. They belonged to the club too. With the centennial anniversary coming up, Nat and Ben decided to do some good with the diamonds and not wait until just one of them was left alive to enjoy the money. But now they’re both dead!”

“I wonder what the police are thinking?” Regan said.

“They probably think that I took them!”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because I knew about them.”

“But you brought it up to them. Didn’t you say the diamonds’ existence had been pretty much a secret?”

“Word had definitely leaked in the club. There were cries and whispers, Regan. Cries and whispers! People heard about the plans for Saturday. Maybe it was the waiter, I don’t know. If I hadn’t brought it up, and they’re not donated to the club, people would ask where they are! It would look like I was hiding them for myself.”

“I see,” Regan said.

“Could that make me a suspect?”

Regan cleared her throat. “Thomas, the police always take a look at everyone who might have had the motive or the opportunity to carry out a crime.”

“That’s why I need you, Regan.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Regan, please come stay here. Help me solve this mess. Help me get back those diamonds. Help me clear my name. Help me secure the future of the Settlers’ Club!”

Is that all? Regan wondered. “Thomas, I’m only in town for a few days. I have to get back to Los Angeles on Monday. I’m in the middle of a case.”

“I don’t care! Come for the weekend then. See what you can figure out in the little time you have.” He paused and said plaintively, “I need you, Regan. I don’t know what else to do.”

Regan looked over at her mother, who was sitting at the table, studying Regan with a quizzical look.

“Okay, Thomas,” Regan said. “I’ll come stay with you. I can be down there by about ten.”

“Regan, I knew you were the one to call. You’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint you, Thomas. I’ll do my best.” When Regan hung up the phone, she turned to her mother. “You always said you wanted me to work in New York City.”

Here we are, Princess of Love,” Maldwin Feckles declared as he carried a tray with hot coffee, freshly squeezed orange juice, and flakey croissants into his employer’s darkened bedroom. “Time to rise and shine and fix people up.” He placed the tray on a table next to the king-size bed and opened the drapes.

Lydia ’s eyes fluttered as she groaned. “What time is it?”

“It’s 8:00 A.M. The time you instructed me to serve you breakfast.”

“Was I dreaming, or did what happened last night really happen?”

Maldwin sighed. He was a short man with rigid posture, tufts of dark hair that given half a chance would be sprouting willy-nilly from the sides of his head but were held in place by industrial-strength gel, and a face of baby-smooth white skin. “I’m afraid our neighbor Nat did in fact pass over.”

“‘Pass over’ isn’t the word,” Lydia said as she sat up. “He departed this planet in a most dramatic fashion.” Her mouth broke into a wide yawn as she reached for the pink feather bed jacket that went over the top of her pink silk nightgown. Ever since she inherited two million dollars from an elderly neighbor in Hoboken she’d not only moved into a penthouse apartment in New York City, but she’d also launched a full scale dating service, aptly named Meaningful Connections, with matchmaking parties held in her own elegant home. She’d also decided that she must always dress the part of the Princess of Love.

It was all so hard to believe.

At the ripe old age of thirty-eight, Lydia ’s wildest dreams had come true. She’d gone from living in a little studio apartment on the wrong side of the tracks to having a butler who was devoted to her. All because she’d run some errands for Mrs. Cerencioni, who seemed as if she didn’t have enough money to pay the light bill.

Of course, Lydia had unfortunately hooked up with a gold-digger who was her boyfriend for about five minutes before she managed to shake him loose. But he still left messages on her machine and sent love notes in the mail. It was wildly embarrassing.

But now things could get even worse. After all the money she’d invested into fixing up the apartment and setting up her business, there was the danger that the club might have to close its doors and sell the building. Just when she and Maldwin were getting their respective businesses on track, she’d have to find a new place to live and work. And to think the club could have been saved by the diamonds they’d heard all the gossip about last night and that now were among the missing.