The Sayers Swindle (A Book Collector Mystery) (21 page)

BOOK: The Sayers Swindle (A Book Collector Mystery)
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“I suppose not. He’s supposed to be a hit man, although he’s never been charged. I hear he works for very bad people in Albany and Buffalo. Cops know who he is, but they never managed to prove anything in court.”

I put my pizza back on my plate. “A hit man? Really?”

“Would I lie to you?”

How would I know if Candy would lie to me? We’d been “friends” for about ten minutes. And it was a strange and one-sided friendship.

“Makes you think, doesn’t it?” she said.

It sure did. What was a hit man doing watching Randolph’s house? It had to be connected to the stolen money and those high-level mobsters.

“That must have been why they kept to themselves,” I said. “Someone was after them.”

“Looks that way.”

“And they knew it. That’s why they were so reclusive. With all that security. Delilah and Mason were jumpy as cats.”

“Yup.”

I said, “So possibly they weren’t kidnapping Randolph. Do you think they might have been fleeing from a hit man?”

She nodded.

I blurted, “But who killed the hit man?”

“The big boys of Burton are working on that.”

Yes, and I really didn’t want Uncle Kev or Officer Smiley to come up on the radar while the big boys were on the job.

She added, “Do you think Delilah or Mason or Randolph was the type to stab someone?”

“No! I mean, I don’t know. I don’t have any way to know. Obviously, they were practically strangers. Wait a minute, what am I saying? I’m sure they would kill a hit man if he was trying to kill them. Randolph might not have been capable of it. But Delilah would defend her son and herself—I’m sure of it. Mason would defend himself. And a young guy would definitely defend his mom too.” Actually Mason had seemed extremely sullen and self-centred to me, but you never know. “But to stab someone? That seems hard to imagine. If he’d been shot, now that seems more defensive to me, somehow.” I stopped talking and shuddered.

“That’s my line of thinking too.”

I said, “But if they got close enough to stab him, he could have shot them. Why didn’t he?”

She hadn’t actually stopped eating her all-dressed pizza throughout our conversation. She could shrug and eat. She shrugged. “They thought they had to deal with it. And they did.”

But most people don’t ever have to deal with a hit man. What had they been involved in? Whatever, it went way beyond books. And it was very bad news.

“So if he was coming for them it would be a good defense. Then they couldn’t hang around to tell the police, because they were on the run from someone.”

“Exactly.”

“But we don’t know who.”

“We have some ideas.”

“Well, that’s good.”

I didn’t ask and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know who that someone might be. I hoped that whoever it was didn’t get the idea that I was involved with the Adamses. And that I didn’t have something he wanted. It would be terrible if Karen was in danger too. We might need some protection, although I was pretty sure my new best friend wasn’t the most effective first line of defense.

“I really hope Randolph is all right. I can’t believe he could be involved in anything dangerous or criminal. And even if he was, I really don’t think he’d be able to fend off any would-be assassin.”

She said, “Of course, that wouldn’t be necessary now, since the would-be assassin is in the morgue.”

“Right. And I guess they got away and may be able to steer clear of whoever hired the hit man. Because that person could just as easily hire another hit man. Do you have any idea who the person behind the hit would be?”

“Nope. Not a clue. There’s no chatter about it anywhere. No gossip out there. I checked around with my friends on other forces. Nada.”

“So nothing about the mob and the money Randolph stole? I guess that’s good news.”

“We’ll see,” she said with a wide grin and a bit of green pepper in the gap between her teeth. “Feel like cheesecake for dessert?”

Not even I could manage cheesecake. Still, I wanted to keep the so-called friendship going. I didn’t know when I’d need some more information from her.

I said, “I don’t think I can. But I love to watch people eat dessert, so I’ll get one and save it for later.”

Domenico’s All Night had pretty good cheesecake too, according to Candy. The extra time while we were waiting did leave me with the challenge of making conversation.

“So, are you back at work tomorrow?”

She shook her head. Still off duty.

“Really? But there’s been an unsolved murder and Burton is such a small place, I figured . . .”

She shrugged. “You thought the new girl would be right in the thick of it?”

“I thought everyone would be pressed into service.”

“I’ve got a bit of overtime piled up and they want me to take it. All the big boys want in on this. I talked to my sarge, but he said to save my energy for after, when they get tired and discouraged.”

I supposed that made sense. “So what do you do on your days off?”

“Not much. I’m new here. The guys keep to themselves. Most of them are married or living with someone, so having a new friend like me isn’t an option.”

“Right.” Candy was the most unglamorous, unseductive, ungirly girl I’d ever met. So I figured the wives and live-ins might not have too much to worry about, but then attraction is a funny thing. And I was beginning to see her appeal. Kind of like a Labrador retriever. She couldn’t take no for an answer, and nothing could shake her optimistic good humor. I suppose you’d have to love her or hate her. “I can see where that would be a problem.”

“It has been.”

“But you’ll settle in, become part of the community.” Listen to me, like I would ever settle in and become part of the community. I had my job, my uncles, my tame librarian and my long distance friend, Tiff. Also Walter. That was it. I tried not to think about Tyler Dekker. I didn’t have him. And in fact I didn’t know what had happened to him. I didn’t know if he was all right. I was surprised at how much that ate at me.

“I suppose. I thought small towns would be a bit friendlier, but this one isn’t.”

I nodded, being fresh out of advice for her. I watched the tired server set the cheesecake in front of her. I watched Candy’s eyes light up.

“So,” she said, “what do you do on your day off?”

“I guess I don’t really have days on and off. I do what I need to do and lots of times I have to be at sales or book fairs on the weekend.”

“Oh yeah. What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, this and that. I have a lot of errands and whatnot for Miss Van Alst.”

“Tell me about her? What’s that like? Tons of money, right?”

She lifted a forkful of Bailey’s cheesecake to her lips. Maybe that was to draw my attention away from the gleam in her eyes. For Candy, this would be like an episode of
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous
. In reality, more like
Lifestyles of the Crabby and Newly Impecunious
.

But I know where my loyalties lie. There was no way I’d let anything slip about the state of the Van Alst estate. The missing paintings, the lack of repairs. The fact that all Vera’s money went to her collection and that, of course, included me.

I was actually surprised that I felt so much loyalty to Vera. She wasn’t exactly the supportive or motherly or friendly type. She was a dragon, but she was
my
dragon. Her dignity needed to stay intact. Maybe mine did too.

“Old family, old home. Everything in it and about it means something to my employer. She doesn’t spend a lot though, just on her collections.” And her employees.

“So you’re working all day?”

I didn’t want to say that my time is my own.

I shrugged. “I get my job done and I work diligently, but it’s on my own schedule, except for breakfast and dinner at eight, attendance compulsory.”

“Huh.”

“And I have to dress for dinner,” I added sheepishly.

“You probably like that.”

“I do actually.”

“What do you have to do tomorrow?”

She was pretty relentless.

“You’ll make a great detective some day,” I said with a grin.

That surprised her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to push you. I can see you’ve got things to do and you don’t need me pushing my way into your life.”

I relented. “I’ll be making the rounds of the best charity shops and secondhand bookstores in the area. It’s supposed to be a nice day for a drive tomorrow, so I’m planning to do Fairlawn and Ainslie. It’s easy to check Harrison Falls, Burton and Grandville frequently.”

She laughed out loud. “Tough job.”

It was my turn to shrug. “Someone’s got to do it.”

“No, they don’t. Why do you choose to do that? And what do you do there?”

Easy answer. “People are always donating books. I scout through them and see if I can find something that’s undervalued. If I do, I pick it up cheap and then we resell it online. I take care of that.”

“Huh.”

That “huh” thing was kind of annoying. I really loved this part of the job. If I had to defend it to Candy and she still didn’t get it, there wasn’t much hope of a friendship.

“I found a signed first edition of Dick Francis’s
Driving Force
for a quarter.”

“Okay.”

“But it’s worth four hundred bucks.”

“Huh. Well you can sure go shopping on that.”

“Not really. It’s part of my job. I bring in these little treasures and they get sold. If it’s something I can sell to a dealer, any profit from this goes straight to Miss Van Alst’s credit at the dealer.”

“Hardly seems fair.”

“Oh, it’s fair, all right. I get paid, regardless. I get my little apartment, meals and a job I love.” I didn’t bother to add that I uncovered a few magnificent vintage clothing and handbag finds at the bazaars and charity shops, including what I was wearing. Vera had no interest in vintage fashion or fashion of any kind for that matter. Those finds were all mine.

“Guess I can’t argue.”

“Different strokes for different folks. I don’t want to give out parking tickets. You picked a job that you enjoy, right?”

Her expression took me by surprise.

“You don’t enjoy it?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m pretty new. There’s more than giving out parking tickets to the job, but it’s not as interesting as I thought it would be. It’s kind of lonely too. Like I said, I’m not fitting in all that well. So I don’t know if I’ll stay on.”

“That’s too bad. And you don’t want to try for the force in your own town? Or where you know people?”

“Nah. Too dangerous. A cop could get killed there. Plus my relatives are all in town and I’d just get picked on all the time. No one thought it was a good idea for a girl to join the police. They give me a hard time and my mom cries about it. She wants grandchildren. And she says I look like crap in the uniform. My own mother! I can’t stand it. So I’ll give Burton another six months and if things don’t look up, I’ll probably retrain.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She poked at the cheesecake. “Although in this economy, a person wants to think twice about that. I could go out to California. Good climate.”

By now, I was feeling like a total jerk. Here was a lonely person, pleasant to be around if a bit nosy. A woman with troubles of her own. Why didn’t I just give her a chance?

Candy said, “So I’m off duty tomorrow. And I’ll probably die of boredom.”

I caved. “Any chance you want to come with me when I make the rounds of the junk stores?”

“Hell, yeah.” She lit up like a high-end Christmas tree, the surplus kind my uncle Danny was selling out of the back end of his truck last year.

So that was settled. I figured I’d have to be careful about my uncles. Better they didn’t meet Officer Candy. They were all still reeling from my relationship—better make that “association”—with Tyler Dekker. Which reminded me yet again, where the devil was he?

She grinned and said, “Want me to pick you up?”

Ah, the first snag. “I thought we might each go in our own vehicles.”

“No way. Half the fun will be traveling together.”

Relax, I told myself. You can pick her brains on the trip.

“Why not. Maybe we can go by the police station and find out the latest on the killing of . . . What was his name? Pierre Gagnon?”

“Mmmm. Bad idea.”

“Oh?”

“I already don’t fit in, so if I start bringing my gal pals along for tours, the guys will never let me forget it. I get called enough names. I can’t just look into a computer file without sending up red flags.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, I’ll drop in on my way, pretend I forgot something in my locker, whatever, and I’ll see what’s happening. Find out more about this Gagnon.”

“We need to know who he’s connected to. And maybe you could talk to contacts in your hometown.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll do my best.”

BOOK: The Sayers Swindle (A Book Collector Mystery)
3.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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