Between HeVan and Hell (9 page)

“Jett! We’ll be just fine. Just
beware, that young man is evil. You don’t need to come back; Marta
already called the police,” said Gilda.

“Wait a sec. Grace asks that you don’t
tell the police our names.”

“Okay.”

“She also says you can call Captain
Udaka of the 18th District.”

“Captain who?” she asked.

“Udaka, you’ll remember that?” asked
Jett.

“I’ll remember,” she said.

“And call if you need help. Actually,
I want you to call later anyway and let us know how you’re
doing.”

“Alright. Bye, now,” and she hung up
the phone.

Such a
worrier
, she thought with a cluck of her
tongue.

As she was hanging up, two uniformed
officers came into the store.

She turned to Marta.

“Marta, I have these two nice officers
to see that no one hurts me. Would you go and make me a cup of
tea?”

“Right away, Baba G. Are you sure you
don’t want me to stay with you?”

“I’ll be fine with these two nice
young officers; you weren’t even here when that rude young man came
in so they don’t need to talk to you. And I really would like a cup
of tea, extra sugar.” Then she turned back to the
officers.

The patrolmen could already see a
bruise forming on the old lady’s cheek. Violence against the
elderly really steamed them both. They began to ask questions and
she told them an abbreviated version of events.

“Well, a nice girl came in today with
her young man and they bought an engagement ring and wedding bands.
Then about fifteen minutes later, this angry young man came in. He
said he was the girl’s brother, which was strange because she told
me she didn’t have a brother. I was just explaining what a lovely
couple they made and he told me to shut up and then he hit me. Yes,
knocked me right out of my chair.”

Marta came hurrying back with her tea
and she took it. “Thank you, dear.”

After taking a sip, she turned back to
the policemen.

“Well, then he just slammed out of the
store, didn’t say another word, just left. He was the last person
to leave. You’ll probably find his fingerprints on the doorknob.
Oh, and he slapped his hand on the counter, too. He had a rather
gaudy blue sapphire signet ring on his right hand with two
initials: an A and a V.”

“Oh, I’m so stupid. Wait just a
minute. I must be more rattled than I thought. Now you gentlemen
just sit over there at the table and Marta will bring you some
cookies. I’ll just draw his picture; I’m an artist, you know. You
have to be, to make jewelry. And I’ll draw that ring for you,
too.”

She looked at the officer on the left
a little closely. When Marta came over with the cookies and some
coffee for the officers, she waved her over and whispered in her
ear. Then she took out a pad and pencil and started
drawing.

Marta put the tray on the table and
went into the back. A few minutes later, she came out with a flat
box. Sitting down with the officers, she shrugged and opened the
box.

“These are all excellent birthday
gifts and they are also good for anniversaries and graduations. All
the pieces in this box are under a hundred dollars,” said
Marta.

She looked at them when they stared at
her in shock.

“Don’t ask, she always knows. One of
you is having an anniversary soon? Or a birthday?” she
asked.

“Damn, Ryan, she’s right. Isn’t your
anniversary next month? And didn’t you forget last year? Oh, man,
the lady’s got you pegged, alright. It seems like she’s saving your
bacon.”

“Well, what about you, O’Grady? You’ve
got kids. Do you have any birthdays coming up? You’d better call
your wife.”

So while Gilda drew, Marta steered the
two officers towards gifts that would be appropriate for a wedding
anniversary and a sweet sixteenth birthday. Officer Ryan got a
vintage lapel watch with marcasite and small diamonds. Officer
O’Grady bought a vintage oval-shaped gold locket with an ivory
cameo on the front. They had both made arrangements to pay when
Gilda spoke up.

“Done. This is what that nasty man
looks like.” And she held out the paper.

Officer Ryan picked up the paper. “Oh,
shit. Excuse my French.”

And he handed the picture to Officer
O’Grady.

“Ma’am, this is a very bad man. He and
his grandfather are very well connected. We’ve been trying to put
them away for a very long time.”

“Well, now you have me!” said
Gilda.

“Yes, we do. And some of the jury will
believe you even though he’ll have twenty other people to say he
was somewhere else at the time you were being battered. That’s if
you make it to the trial. Witnesses against him tend to
disappear.”

“I’m an old woman; I’m willing to take
the risk. He is a monster and monsters should be stood up to, we’ve
learned that lesson. But I’m not going to risk my granddaughter. I
have to make sure she is someplace safe.”

She looked at them closely. “How much
time can you give me before you file that report? Since I’m
injured, will I need to come in and sign a statement, or can you
fill it out now?

“I’m asking these questions because I
have a place to disappear to, but if the bad guys find out I’m
coming in, they might follow me. I watch cop shows on TV; I know
what could happen,” she said.

“Our shift is up at nine thirty;
that’s in four hours. We’ll turn in the paperwork then. You come in
right at nine and sign-off on the report. The bruises on your face
will be very colorful by then and we’ll have one of the female
police officers take pictures of your injuries for the file. Give
us this picture when you come in, that way we won’t ‘officially’
know who the perp is. That will give you time to stash your
granddaughter. I can tell you now, our Sergeant is going to be mad,
but a certain Captain will be very happy.

“The Assistant State’s Attorney
assigned to the case is going to need to depose you or at least
question you before trial. Get some of those throw away phones. Use
a different one each time you call in. Always call from a busy
place and don’t stay on the phone longer than ten minutes. Take out
the SIM card and the battery and throw the phone away each time you
use it and then get a new one. It’s the best way to make sure
you’re not traced,” said Officer Ryan.

“And throw the phones away in a
separate location from where you made the call. They will have
officers looking for the phones to track where you bought them,”
said Officer O’Grady.

“I sure wish I knew you were going to
be alright,” he added.

“Don’t you worry about me; I’m a tough
old broad. I’ll be just fine. You go on now, and take these gifts
with you. No, you can’t pay me. That nasty man’s lawyers might find
the payments and say you bribed me. No, no, you donate the price to
charity. My husband left me well off, I keep the store open because
it keeps me busy and I’m training my granddaughter, so no arguments
now.”

“But Ma’am, what if they find out we
got them from you and didn’t pay?” asked Officer Ryan.

“Those are vintage pieces. You could
have gotten them anywhere, even a garage sale. Looks like you both
have great taste. Don’t worry about that. It’ll be one less thing
for Marta to carry out of the store. We’ll have to close up and
take all of our stock with us.

“Don’t look so glum. Why, just today I
received a huge commission that will keep me working for months. I
was going to close up the shop for a while anyway. Now, you go on
…Oh, I forgot. Do you want your crime scene people to come and take
fingerprints and stuff? You make sure and don’t let them lose the
evidence, okay?”

“Don’t you worry, Ma’am, we won’t.
Now, we’re going to sit outside in our car and wait for the crime
scene guys to show up. That may take a while.”

After they left, Gilda turned to her
granddaughter.

“Marta, now I want you to do as I say,
right down to the letter. Do you promise?”

“Yes, Grandma,” said Marta looking at
her grandmother with new eyes.

“First, bring me my chair and the
to-go case. Then I want you to run down to the drugstore on the
corner and buy some of those pay-as-you-go phones. Pay cash for
them, and – actually, don’t go to that drugstore; they know you
there. Go to a new store, where they don’t know you. Then come back
here lickety split.”

Marta brought her grandmother her
wheelchair and helped her into it. While she went out the back
door, Gilda emptied the contents of the display case into a special
rolling to-go case. She undressed all her displays every night and
rolled the case into the massive wall safe in the back. There was a
time when the many drawers in the safe would be full, when her
family store included the space next door.

After her husband’s death, times were
hard. The money that should have been in their savings account
wasn’t there. She’d held on to the building because they owned it
free and clear. Then she partitioned off this small space and
leased the larger showroom. She also kept the apartment upstairs
where they had always lived. Marta felt they should move because
the stairs were so hard for her. She had put in a stair lift
instead. She was a shrewd businesswoman. The lease brought in
enough money to pay for the building upkeep and taxes. And she was
well-known in the jewelry-making community. Working mostly by
commission, she didn’t really need a big storefront. Looking around
the store now, at all the memories, she knew she would miss
it.

She shook off her melancholy mood and
wheeled into the back and packed up all the valuable supplies she
used to make jewelry. She stood up, ignoring the grinding pain in
her hips to pack up all of their hand tools. She didn’t use a cash
register, just a ledger book and an adding machine. She packed up
the ledger book and put the contents of the moneybox into her bank
bag. Thirty minutes later, she’d completely packed up her shop. The
things that were too big to take, well, she was getting enough from
this commission to replace them.

A few minutes later, Marta came back
in through the back door.

“I went down ten blocks, Baba G, but
then I had to find a store. Sorry it took so long. Hey, you already
packed everything up.”

“That’s alright. Next I want you to
take this note, this key, and your backpack. Run down to the bank
and go into our safe deposit box. You’ll have to see Miss Shapiro,
give the note to her. Since you’re not officially on the box as a
signer, she’ll have to get you in. Take my driver’s license, too;
she’ll recognize my handwriting.”

“Okay, but only if you promise to stay
in your chair. What am I going to do if you hurt yourself?” she
asked, giving her grandmother a look.

“Alright, I promise, I won’t lift a
finger,” Gilda said.

This time, while Marta was out of the
store, she placed a call to her old friend Ethel, who worked at a
store three doors down and asked her to come to the back door.
Ethel arrived a few minutes later.

“Gilda, you sounded so anxious. Your
face! What has happened?” exclaimed Ethel. “Wait, before you tell
me, I’m going to make you a cold compress and get you some
aspirin.” She ran up the stairs and was back down in a few
minutes.

“Here, take the aspirin first,” she
said, handing her the tablets and then the glass of water. Next she
handed over a plate with a cold wet washcloth on it.

“Now, I’m ready to hear the story,”
said Ethel.

“A monster on two legs came in and
knocked me down for no good reason,” she started saying.

She went on to relate the story to her
friend and ended with, “So I’m leaving town for a while. Marta’s at
the bank pulling our important papers and the best loose stones. I
have enough money to cover the outstanding bills, only I don’t have
time to sit down and take care of all that.”

“You don’t even have to ask. I’d be
happy to take care of that for you,” said Ethel. “Is there anything
else you need?”

“One other thing; I finished the
necklace you wanted me to design for your grandson. The one he
wanted for his wife? Here it is, with a check to cover the bills.”
Gilda handed her the necklace and an envelope with her outstanding
mail and a check for almost the entire balance in her
account.

Putting the envelope under her arm,
Ethel opened the black velvet jewelry case. “Gilda, you’ve outdone
yourself. It’s perfect for her. He’s a smart man, my grandson. A
woman gives you triplets, she deserves a beautiful reward like
this.”

“It’s lucky his family is in the
business. Send him my best wishes for his wife and the new babies.
My to-go box here has all the jewelry from the display cases. Take
it to your store and sell it on consignment, fifteen percent
commission; I won’t quibble. Use the rest to cover the insurance
and other expenses on the building. I don’t know when I’ll get
back. If we had time, I’d add you on as a signer on the account. It
would be so much easier. But that might make you a target and I
don’t want to risk it, anyway.” Her mind was racing as she tried to
think of everything. Putting down the cold cloth, her face did feel
much better. She didn’t like to mention that her shoulder hurt much
worse.