Blackbird 02 - Dead Girls Don't Wear Diamonds (22 page)

"I'm not a suspect!" I cried. "Stan, I had nothing to do with Laura's death."

"All right, maybe suspect is too strong a word. The guys in the newsroom have been chasing this for a couple of days. Some police sources are starting to think you're involved in Laura Cooper's death somehow. We're running more on the Cooper story tomorrow, and your name keeps—"

"Police sources?" Surely not Bloom, I thought. But who? The only other official I had spoken with was Jack Priestly, and I wasn't even sure what branch of
law enforcement he represented. No, I thought. Not Jack, surely? Why would he want me to look guilty?

To get me off the case, of course.

Stan continued. "I talked the general manager into giving you half pay, but that's the best I can do until this mess is cleared up."

Half pay? I could barely survive on the full-time pittance I received every two weeks!

"Let me get this straight," I said. "You mean everyone here at the
Intelligencer
really thinks I'm a suspect in Laura's death? Have you consulted the legal department on this? You really think you can get away with firing me for an alleged involvement?"

Stan looked over my shoulder for an instant, then snapped his attention back to me. "Look, Nora, I'm really sorry, but my personal feelings aren't—"

"Kitty's part of this, isn't she?"

Stan looked ludicrously surprised. "Kitty?"

"Kitty's hoping I'm a viable suspect," I went on. "She's hoping I'll disappear, and she'll have the keys to the kingdom again, isn't she?"

Stan looked past me again, and this time I turned around. Standing outside Stan's office was Kitty herself, dolled up in a red evening dress that made her garish yellow hair even more startling. She had pushed an ostrich feather down through the hairdo, and a double twist of fat pearls clung to her throat. Obviously, she was on her way to a social function.

I don't remember getting up, but suddenly I was out in the newsroom. I snapped, "You are even lower than I first thought, Kitty. This is absolutely beyond reason."

She couldn't conceal her triumph. "So sorry to hear about your little trouble with the police, Sweet Knees."

"I have no trouble with the police, and you know it. You're trying to manufacture a story just to get me kicked out of here. And what you're doing to the Coopers! You're making their terrible situation even worse."

Kitty shrugged and turned away. Over her shoulder, she said, "I can't make it any worse than that idiot Doe already has."

"What have you got against poor Doe? Just that she can't throw a party to your specifications?"

Kitty spun around and her face hardened. "I tried to teach her how to play the game. Unfortunately, she's a slow learner."

"Just because she didn't pay you enough homage. What happened?" I demanded, reckless with anger. "She forgot to send you flowers after you mentioned her in a column? She didn't pay the right kickback?"

Kitty swelled up like a blowfish. "How dare you suggest—"

"It's your game, Kitty, with your rules. God help the person who tries her best and fails. Doe made a few inconsequential mistakes or made you feel unimportant, so you punish the whole family."

I thought she was going to argue further. But she controlled herself and said with smug pleasure, "That's the way the cookie crumbles, Sweet Knees."

Stan came up behind me. "I'm really, really sorry, Nora. My hands are tied. This will blow over, I'm sure—"

I stopped listening to him and went down to the street. It was a gusty day and I was hit by a blast of wind that nearly knocked me off my heels. I reached the parked car and climbed unsteadily into the front seat. I surprised Reed so much that he dropped the book he was reading. He snatched it up again before I could see the title.

"I'm sorry," I said, slamming the car door. "I don't want to sit in the backseat right now."

He hugged his book and looked astonished to find me sitting next to him instead of in the back. "What's the matter?"

"I just got fired. Well, not quite," I corrected. "But as close as you can get without standing in the unemployment line."

"Wow," he said, warily watching me for signs of hysteria.

"I'm not going to cry." Although I wasn't too sure about that. "I'm just stunned. I need a minute to pull my thoughts together." My hands were trembling, and I used them both to tightly grip my handbag.

Reed asked, "You want me to take you home?"

I shook my head. "No. I need to do something. I can't let this happen right now. Losing my job, I mean. I just . . ."

He waited, frozen, dreading the onslaught of blubbery sobs.

I hung on to my composure. "I need to figure out who murdered Laura Cooper."

"What's she got to do with your job?"

"Reed," I said, "let's go park on Jeweler's Row. I need time to think, and that's as good a place as any."

Reed put his book in the door pocket beside him and complied. In a few minutes we were sitting at a parking meter just four doors down from Sidney Gutnick's shop. Most of the store owners appeared to have closed their businesses for the day. One man came out of his store, locked the door, pulled down the iron gate and padlocked it, then grabbed the hat on his head and barreled down the sidewalk as if propelled by a hurricane. A ragged piece of newspaper tumbled after him on the darkening sidewalk.

"This okay?" Reed asked.

"Fine," I said.

My life was a mess.

I was just getting the hang of having a job for the first time, and now this. Was employment supposed to be this complicated? This difficult? Why couldn't I just do my work and collect a paycheck like everyone else?

Reed stayed very still, as if dreading an explosion of tears.

But I started to feel angry instead. I glared out the windshield. "See that shop up there on the second floor, Reed? With the lights on?"

"Yes."

"Let's just watch it for a little while," I suggested. "Maybe we'll see the owner."

"The man we brought here the other day?"

"The man who seems to have had a lot to do with Laura Cooper."

All roads led to Sidney Gutnick. That much seemed obvious. He had lied to me about his relationship with Tempeste. He probably received stolen goods from Laura. He sold bracelets to Yale Bailey. There was more to be learned from Sidney. I just needed to ask the right questions.

Reed suddenly said, "Is that a drag queen?"

Tempeste Juarez climbed out of a cab and charged down the sidewalk, swathed in scarves and carrying an umbrella that had blown inside out. In her other hand, she clutched one of Sidney's mint-green shopping bags. Big sunglasses concealed her face, even though it was after dark. She looked like Mata Hari on male hormones.

I sat up straight. "That's Tempeste Juarez! She told me she hadn't bought jewelry from Sidney in years."

"They look pretty chummy now," Reed observed.

Sidney, who'd declared his intense dislike for Tempeste, must have been waiting for her just inside the door. Short and round, his figure was unmistakable beside her rangy frame. He opened the door to allow Tempeste to slide inside, then glanced furtively up and down the street.

Reed and I instinctively scrunched down on the front seat of the car.

Satisfied he hadn't been observed, Sidney closed the door. They disappeared together, presumably upstairs.

"Now what?" Reed's voice was hushed.

I stared the Sidney's shop and wondered what a real detective would do. "I don't know."

"This is like a stakeout." For once, Reed sounded like a young man barely out of his teens.

I grinned at him. "It is, isn't it?"

"Should I turn off the car?"

"I think so. Otherwise, we'll look pretty obvious."

He shut off the ignition. A moment later, enthusiasm fading, he said, "I shoulda gone to the bathroom before this started."

"Oh," I said. "Do you have to?"

"Not yet."

Five minutes passed, and we didn't observe anything more exciting than a young woman walking a large pit bull. An occasional spit of rain landed on the windshield. Inside the car, I started to get cold. And I began to think about my bladder, too.

Finally I said, "Are you going to teach me to drive soon?"

"The boss says you faint all the time."

"I do not. Well, once in a while, maybe."

"He says you have to go six months without fainting; then I can teach you to drive."

"Why does he have a vote in this?"

"He's my boss," Reed said, as if that were enough.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Maybe I should phone Sidney. While Tempeste is there. Think that would accomplish anything?"

"It would scare 'em."

"Do you have a cell phone?"

He looked at me as if everyone on the planet had a cell phone but time travelers from the sixteenth century. Then he pulled out a tiny phone and handed it to me.

But just then a taxi pulled up in front of Sidney's store, tooted its horn and waited at the curb.

"Hang on," I said.

A minute later, Tempeste came out of Sidney's door and dashed for the cab. Reed and I scrunched down in the front seat again, but I felt safe since we were parked several cars away. Still, Tempeste looked in our direction just before sliding into the cab. Sidney closed the door and disappeared again. The cab whisked Tempeste away.

Reed sat up. "Should we follow?"

"No. I'm going up to Sidney's now myself."

"Wait!"

I had already put my hand on the door handle when a second car drew up in front of the store. It was a black Mercedes with a vanity plate that read
OLLIE.
He parked at a meter down the street, got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk to Sidney's door.

"Oliver Cooper," I said, staring at the familiar figure. "I don't believe it."

Oliver banged on Sidney's door, making no secret of his presence on the street. The girl with the pit bull came back, and the dog sniffed Oliver's legs as they went by. Oliver banged on the door again. Reed and I didn't budge.

At last Sidney appeared, looking flustered this time
as he opened his door to Oliver Cooper. They went inside.

"This is strange," I said aloud. "Why would Oliver come to see Sidney?"

To come to an agreement over Laura's dealings with Sidney? Or was he tailing Tempeste for some reason?

I said, "I'm going up there."

Reed croaked, "You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can. I'll be back soon."

"Wait!" Reed cried. "Mick will kill me!"

I popped open the car door and slipped out into the gusty night air. I set off for Sidney's shop entrance on cat feet.

I put my hand on the rain-slick door handle and hesitated, listening. Then I pulled the door open.

In the next second, somebody grabbed me from behind.

The man's hand came around my head and clamped over my mouth. His other arm snaked around my waist and pulled me backwards against his body in a grip that drove all the breath from my lungs. It wasn't Reed.

Instinctively, I bit his hand. I kicked back with one foot and connected with his shin. He yanked me off balance, but I braced my body against his and stomped my heel down into his shoe. It was instinctive, quick and as forceful as I could manage.

He swore but didn't let go. Then I jammed my elbow into his ribs.

"Dammit, Nora," Jack Priestly said in my ear, his Kentucky twang strangled with pain. "Stop that!"

I froze and tried to speak, but my mouth was immobilized by his hand.

He drew my body backwards into the shadow of a nearby doorway.

Then I realized someone else was in the street, walking fast towards us, head down against the wind, hands thrust into the pockets of a dark raincoat, shoulders hunched. From his short stature, I recognized the fast-moving figure instantly. Yale Bailey.

Jack and I flattened ourselves against the bars of an iron security gate. From that vantage point, we could both see Reed, who had gotten out of the car and was coming in our direction with a tire iron in one hand. Only seconds had passed since Jack had grabbed me, and Reed was on his way to my rescue. I put up both hands in a signal to stop, and thank heaven Reed obeyed, faltering to an uncertain halt just at the hood of the car. Jack loosened me and raised his hands over his head in silent surrender. I pointed towards Yale and signaled Reed to get back into the car.

He melted backwards, unwillingly.

In my ear, Jack said, "Hold still."

I obeyed, and we both watched Yale Bailey approach Sidney's shop door. The wind had made the night noisy, so he didn't hear us or see Reed ease along the side of the car. When Yale got close, I could see he was smoking a cigarette. He threw the smoldering butt into a puddle before reaching for Sidney's door.

He went inside, and the door closed behind him.