Rita Lakin_Gladdy Gold_01 (20 page)

Read Rita Lakin_Gladdy Gold_01 Online

Authors: Getting Old Is Murder

BOOK: Rita Lakin_Gladdy Gold_01
2.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

35

Warning the Victim-to-Be

T
he girls and I crowd in to
the Feder apartment, a place we hardly ever visit. For a number of
reasons. We are rarely invited. And if we are, we are intensely
uncomfortable. So much furniture. Very large, ugly, heavy--totally wrong
for Florida. The pieces were undoubtedly expensive in their day, but
who would want them? There is only one narrow aisle for Esther's
wheelchair to traverse from room to room, and it must be difficult for
her to manage. No wonder she usually parks it at the front screen door
and stays there most of the time. I can't imagine living in a place so
claustrophobic. I don't know how Harriet stands it.

As the girls try to get comfortable, I start to work my
way up to why we are here. "I'm glad we caught you before you went to
work," I say to Harriet.

"You would have caught me all day. I've been switched to
the night shift."

Bella groans at that and Harriet eyes her curiously.

Ida looks at Harriet sadly. "Talk about bad timing."

"It's about your birthday," I say to Esther.

"What about it? You gonna make me a party?" She cackles.

Harriet gets it. "You're worried," she says quietly,
trying to downplay it.

I nod, as do the girls.

"What about?" Esther demands to know. She wheels her
chair deftly about to face us. Bella stares down at her legs. Evvie
pokes her for staring. Ida fingers her sharp Hadassah lapel pin
meaningfully. Bella sees it and giggles.

"Can't you change your shift back to day?" Evvie asks
Harriet, at the same time glaring warningly at the girls.

"No chance," she says. "I made a lot of people switch
schedules so I could take my vacation last week. I don't dare ask for
another favor."

"What are you talking about?" Esther says, her voice
strident now. She looks from one to another of us. Then she gets it.
"The night before my birthday. You think--" and with that she makes a
cutting gesture across her throat. "Eh, what a crock!"

"We don't want to take any chances," Evvie says. "Selma
and Francie were killed--"

But Esther interrupts. "Who says they were killed? Only
you girls, spreading rumors. I don't see any cops around investigating."

"Mom, be nice. The girls are only trying to help you."

"Who needs their help? I don't. And besides, Greta didn't
die just before her birthday."

"Mom," Harriet intercedes. "We all think Greta was killed
because she knew the killer."

"We?
We
all think? Suddenly these crackpots are
your new best friends? Ha!"

Harriet looks at us, extending her hands, helplessly. I
can see Ida getting red hot under the collar, just itching to say
something. I shake my head at her.

Esther keeps jabbering. "Then what about Eileen O'Connor?
Her birthday passed and she's still around. Too bad. She's such a big
mouth, getting rid of her would be a blessing."

"Can't you behave!" Harriet exclaims, embarrassed.

"Frankly, I think her leaving and going to stay with her
sister in Boca probably saved her life," I say quietly, trying to
ignore Esther's rotten remarks.

Esther folds her arms. "OK by me. Send me to Miami Beach.
I wouldn't mind a nice cabana for a week. You could also throw in a
Cuban beach boy while you're at it."

Harriet smiles wryly. "That's a great idea. If only we
could afford it."

"You would say that," Esther says sarcastically. "You
don't let me spend a dime on anything."

Bella is again staring at Esther's feet, but they stay
perfectly still under her blanket. Evvie pokes Bella. Sophie snickers.

"At least ask if you can have that one night off?" Evvie
is determined to ignore Esther's rudeness.

"I'll try, but you don't know my supervisor."

"Then we have to set up some kind of plan," I say.

"I agree," Evvie says. "We can all sit here with Esther
until you get home."

Ida wants to know what time her shift is over.

Harriet tells her it's four
A.M.

Sophie groans at that.

"Hello? Don't I have any say in this matter? I don't need
you. I don't want you," Esther says. "Don't do me any favors."

"Mom. This is no time to get stubborn."

"The whole thing's stupid anyway. Who'd want to kill me?"

From the looks on the girls' faces, I'd say, right now,
four people.

Harriet is exasperated. "Foolish old lady. Why would
anybody want to kill Selma or Francie? But they did!"

"Even if I believed all their
chozzerai,
you
think I'd be afraid? Just let that guy come. I'll be ready." Esther
makes boxing jabs with her hands as if to show what she would do.

Sophie laughs out loud.

"You think I couldn't?" Esther says, annoyed that they
are laughing at her show of bravado.

"Mom, please. Don't be ridiculous," Harriet says.

Bella tries appeasement. "What have you got to lose? We
could keep you company, play a little cards."

"Big shots! Nosy old biddies. Mind your own business."

Ida is up in a shot. "That does it. Let's go."

Sophie and Bella jump up with her.

Esther smirks and steers herself out of the cluttered
living room and heads down the hall to her bedroom, muttering to
herself. "As if I'd eat any food from some stranger! You have to be a
moron!" Now she is shouting. "Like the TV show, that's my final answer!"

Harriet shrugs. What else can we say? As we start out the
door, she whispers to us. "We'll talk later."

From the bedroom, Esther calls out again, "Don't forget
to send me a present. Just don't send food!"

We can still hear her cackling when we step outside.

Back to square one. What's that funny saying? No good
deed goes unpunished? We're going to have to find a way to save her in
spite of herself. From the looks on the faces of my angry cohorts, I'd
say I'll have a hard time convincing them.

Under her breath I hear Sophie mutter, "We shoulda let
Ida jab her."

36

Double Feature

H
ow can I describe this day? Everyone is on
shpilkes.
Shpilkes--
an untranslatable word. It's like going crazy without
going crazy. A high state of nervous anxiety. Or--as Ida calls it--ants
in your pants.

Today is the day before Esther's birthday
and our hands are tied. She won't let us help her. I thought about
calling Detective Langford, but what would he say? What the police
always say: We can't do anything unless something happens. So, it's up
to us without Esther's permission.

The girls are driving me nuts. They are
calling every hour on the hour. Do you see anything? Do you hear
anything?

At three o'clock, there are multiple knocks
on my door. I can see four anxious faces through my kitchen window.
Reluctantly, I let them in.

Evvie takes the floor. "We've made a
decision. We're going to the movies."

"But first dinner," says Bella.

"There's a great double feature at the
Reprise Theater. Harriet read about it in the papers and called me,"
says Evvie.

"You'll really love it," says Sophie. "Two
murder miseries."

"That's 'mysteries,'" Ida corrects her.

"Whatever."

I look at them in horror. "Are you trying
to say we shouldn't stay home and guard Esther? Have you all lost your
minds? Who's going to be able to concentrate on a movie!"

"Me!" A unanimous chorus.

"I can't do that!"

"Yes, you can," says Ida.

Sophie throws it to first. "We picked a
deli right in the same minimall as the theater."

Bella takes it to second. "We do the early
bird at four-fifteen."

Ida makes it to third. "The double feature
is from four-thirty to seven-thirty. We'll be home before Harriet has
to leave for the night shift."

And Evvie brings it to the plate. "We'll be
home before dark. Well, anyway, it won't be too dark."

"Is that the movie?" I ask.
"Wait Until
Dark?"

"No, that's the plan," she informs me.

"So, tell me already." I can't believe I'm
even asking. "What's playing?"

"Sorry, Wrong Number,"
Evvie says.
"With Barbara Stanwyck."

"I love Barbara
Sandwich,"
Sophie
coos. "Is she dead?"

Bella says, "I think so."

"Such a pity, so young," says Sophie.

"And
No Way to Treat a Lady
with
Rod Steiger," Evvie adds. "Perfect for this week's movie review on
golden oldies. Waddaya think? What with all the murders getting in the
way, I haven't had time to write one single review. My fans miss me!"

I am fairly salivating. Two great classics.
What am I thinking? This is crazy!

Evvie pokes me playfully. "Admit it, you
want to go."

I am pacing now. Torn, and ashamed of
myself. "We have a responsibility here!"

"To Miss Ungrateful?" Ida says. "Why should
we care?"

"And how will you live with yourselves
tomorrow if she's dead?"

That stops them for about a minute.

"The killer won't do anything until it gets
really dark," says Evvie.

"You know that for a fact?" I say icily.
"He killed Selma around five in the afternoon and Greta early in the
morning."

Evvie smiles knowingly. "With all the noise
we've been making, he knows we're watching. He'll have to wait 'til he
thinks we're all asleep."

"Some watching. He'll watch us take off for
the movies."

"Exactly. That'll fool him. But then he'll
think we're trying to trick him. See?"

See? That's about as clear as mud.

Bella and Sophie jump up and down, grabbing
my arms, pulling at me, like a couple of spoiled five-year-olds.
"Please! Pretty please! Let's go."

"All right," I say reluctantly.

They are all out the door. Ida has to have
the last word. "Downstairs in ten minutes, not a second later!"

I can't believe I am sitting in this
theater. Those lunatics I live with dragged me so fast, my head is
spinning. Rushed to the theater, rushed around looking for a parking
spot, fairly dragged me out of the car and raced us all to the deli, so
we'd have a whole ten minutes to choke down a dry pastrami on rye. I'm
amazed I don't have indigestion.

Why did I go? Because Harriet reassures me
she won't have to leave for work until we get home. Because I'm so edgy
and the girls so crazed, the movies will relax us. Believe me, I hedged
my bet. I called Langford's office and left him a message. What a
world. Even cops have voice mail. Whatever happened to some gum-chewing
tough guy saying, "Yeah, waddaya want him for?" My message was to the
point. "This is the night before Esther Feder's birthday. If I'm right,
she'll die tonight. I hope I'm wrong."

I also intend to phone in between features.

Stanwyck is as wonderful as I remember, as
the bedridden invalid who overhears two men plot a murder, and I relax
into supreme enjoyment. Then that delicious chilling moment when she
realizes she is the target!

Now I find myself staring at the screen.
Barbara dials everyone she can think of to get help and I stare,
hypnotized, at her hand as it keeps reaching for the phone. What does
it remind me of? I think of Selma and Francie and someone else so long
ago . . . but who?? It's been nagging at me since all of this started.

I lean over to Evvie. "Who was it who died
in Lanai Gardens years ago holding a phone?"

"Wait a minute, this is the good part.
Barbara hears someone breaking into the house."

Other books

It's Not a Pretty Sight by Gar Anthony Haywood
The Error World by Simon Garfield
Flame Tree Road by Shona Patel
The Burnt House by Faye Kellerman
Fire Raven by McAllister, Patricia
There but for The by Ali Smith
Art's Blood by Vicki Lane
Nowhere Child by Rachel Abbott
A Mile Down by David Vann
Under the Dusty Moon by Suzanne Sutherland