Lethal Legacy (42 page)

“It must have been Eddy Forbes,” I said.

“Forbes. That could have been the name.”

“Did you describe the book to him in your letter?”

“Yes. That was the point of speaking with him,
wasn’t it? I had left several phone messages, too. After that,” Jane Eliot
said, “it just didn’t seem worth bothering, if even the dealers turned out to
be thieves. I really wasn’t interested in its dollar value. I don’t want for
anything, and my relatives have plenty of other rare books. It wasn’t mine,
after all.”

“So you have it still?”

“I did, until just a few months ago,” Jane Eliot
said, stopping in her tracks. “I gave it back.”

“Back?” I asked. “To the library?”

“No, no. I did my genealogy, dear. Easy to do with
folks as well known as the Hunts. It turns out that old Mr. Hunt had one son,
just as he had told my mother. Jasper Hunt the Third, who’s even older than I
am. I wasn’t about to give anything to him.”

She squeezed my hand and smiled again.

“But I learned there’s also a granddaughter. A
woman named Minerva. So I wrote her a note. I told her about the book, about
our family’s connection to the library,” the old woman said, pointing toward
the door of her room and directing us toward it. “I left out my mother’s
suspicions about Minerva’s grandfather, of course.”

“Did she return your correspondence?”

“She didn’t seem the least bit interested at
first. I didn’t get a reply for several weeks. Then I wrote again. My writing
isn’t too neat, because of my vision. Of course, I can’t see the detail on the
pages of that old book very well anymore, but I tried to describe how beautiful
it was. I told her about the map that the Mad Hatter had tucked in that pocket
in the back, with the photographs.”

Mercer jumped in before I could open my mouth.
“There was a
map
?”

“When my mother was dying and she told Edith and
me about the book, she said that Mr. Hunt had insisted she keep the map. The
very first day we had opened the book, we saw the map, of course. George spread
it out on the floor at once, but it wasn‘t nearly so interesting to us as the
photographs.”

“But why was there a map?” he asked.

“Do you remember that Alice—the one in
Wonderland—went to a tea party?”

“Sure, the Mad Hatter and the March Hare were
there,” I said. “But what did the map have to do with the tea party?”

Jane Eliot slowly started to move again. “Let me
think what Mother said. It was a big old map, folded up several times, as I
recall. It was a picture of the island of Ceylon. Mr. Hunt said that’s where
the tea came from. The tea for the party.”

Jasper Hunt certainly lived up to his reputation
for eccentricity.

“He told Mother to leave the map right where it
was. That it would increase the value of the book, in the end. He said he
wanted to make up for alarming her, to do right by Edith,” Jane Eliot said. “So
Mother saw no harm in keeping it. Like Jasper told her, he loved the library,
too, and knew that we did. She had her piece of the Hunt legacy.”

THIRTY-FIVE

“Is that how your mother referred to Jasper
Hunt’s gift?” I asked.

“At the end of her life, when she talked about
him.”

“Were those her words, or his?”

“I don’t have any idea,” Jane Eliot said.

“Did you finally get Minerva Hunt’s attention?”
Mercer asked, helping to lower the woman into her chair.

“She couldn’t have been more gracious. Came all
the way downtown to visit me. She really seemed so pleased that I had thought
of her. Brought me a beautiful plant.”

“And left with the book?” Mercer asked.

As Mike liked to say, that’s why the rich were
rich. Minerva Hunt exchanged a potted plant for a rare book and a piece of one
of the most valuable puzzles in the world.

“Oh, yes. Such a sentimental lady. She seemed
almost in tears about it. Turned the pages of the book, kept stroking the map,
too, though she never took it out to open it up.”

“What did Minerva talk to you about, Miss Eliot?”
I asked. “Did she speak about her grandfather?”

“I talked mostly. About the library and such. She
asked some questions.”

“Like what?”

“She was very curious about the other books we’d
gotten as kids. Were any of them quite as big as this one? But they weren’t,”
Eliot said, scratching her head as she recalled the conversation. “She wanted
to know if I’d told anyone else about Edith’s gift. That’s what she was most
interested in.”

“And have you?” Mercer asked.

“Certainly, but years ago. No one’s listened to me
in ages. There was a time, after Jasper Hunt was gone, and my mother, too, that
I made a few speeches at the library, to the trustees. They always seemed to
enjoy stories of what we did there as kids. It kind of brought the great
institution to life.”

“Did you mention the map?” he said.

“No. It never really made an impression on me as a
child, Mercer. I saw it so briefly, and now I can’t really see at all. At those
meetings, I described how we lived, the significance of the books that were
given to us, particular books—like
Alice in Wonderland
—that sort of
thing.”

“Did that satisfy Minerva?” I asked.

“A touch of sibling rivalry, I guess,” Jane Eliot
said with a chuckle. “She was more concerned about whether her brother knew
about the map. I can’t pull up his name at the moment, but she wanted to be
very sure I hadn’t sent a letter to him before she’d responded to me.”

“You hadn’t?”

“No, no. Young people would call it sexist, but I
thought that lovely book should go to a girl. I was hoping maybe Minerva had
children, but she told me she doesn’t.”

“In your correspondence with Eddy Forbes, Miss
Eliot,” Mercer said, “did you mention the map that was inside your copy of
Alice
in Wonderland
?”

“I certainly did. I remembered what Jasper Hunt
had told Mother about its value.”

“And you’ve never heard from Forbes himself?”

“Thank goodness, no. And the FBI wasn’t interested
at all. They only wanted to know if I’d done any other business with Forbes.
They didn’t even come to see me.”

There was no reason for the feds, at that time, to
have thought there was any significance to Jane Eliot’s attempt to reach Eddy
Forbes.

“Was there anything else Minerva mentioned?”

“No, Alex. Not that I can think of. She hugged me
quite warmly before she left. I figured I’d made a new friend. She seemed so
concerned about my health, too. Just lovely.”

“But you haven’t heard from her since?”

“Actually, I haven’t. It sounds as though you
think my old copy of
Alice
had something to do with this attack on me.
Am I right?”

“We’ll let you know as soon as we figure it out,
Miss Eliot. I promise you that,” I said. “Can we do anything to make you more
comfortable here before we leave?”

“Take me with you,” she said, chuckling again.

“You’ll go home in grand style when you’re
released. The sergeant will get you there in a blue and white chariot. We’ll
have your place all straightened up.”

I knew she’d be shocked to see her home turned upside
down, and to know there was fingerprint powder on most of her furniture.
Someone from Witness Aid would be on top of helping with her homecoming.

Pridgen walked us to the elevator as Mercer
speed-dialed Lieutenant Peterson. “Loo? Don’t worry—I’ve got Alex covered for
the day. She’s going to be with me. This Jane Eliot push-in is definitely a
piece of our case—Tina Barr and Karla Vastasi. You need a uniformed cop posted
at her hospital door, 24/7, in case this creep decides to come back at her.”

Mercer listened to Peterson’s reply and gave me a
thumbs-up.

“And I’m about to call Chapman. Seems his
heartthrob, Minerva Hunt, has been keeping secrets from him. Looks like she’s
lied to us from the start. I think it’s time to round her up and hold her fancy
pedicured toes to the fire.”

THIRTY-SIX

“So everybody’s keeping secrets from me, huh?”
Mike said, combing his fingers through his hair. “First Minerva Hunt and then
you. All of a sudden I find out you’re so worried about my temper, you won’t
even call me when one of the Griggs takes you for a ride. Do you honestly think
I’d do something stupid to compromise Kayesha Avon’s case after eight long
years?”

The three of us were standing in front of Tina
Barr’s building. Mike had been on his way to the apartment when Mercer reached
him as we left the hospital room.

“I apologize,” I said. “It just seemed smarter at
the time to let someone else in the squad handle last night’s episode.”

“It would have seemed smarter to me at the time
not to get in the frigging cab with Anton Griggs. He’s got a rap sheet longer
than the Holland Tunnel.”

“You didn’t mention that when you testified at the
hearing.”

“Don’t give me attitude, Coop. Anton doesn’t
bother with his birth name too often. He’s got a different alias for just about
every arrest. Most of the collars are in Jersey, so I missed it first time
around, okay?”

“What’s the plan, Mike?” Mercer asked, ever the
peacemaker. “I told Alex not to call you. Let her be.”

“Falling on your sword for her again, huh? Do it
too often and there’ll be permanent puncture wounds in your heart,” Mike said,
tapping his fingers on his chest. “Don’t say anything, Blondie. It’s only a
joke.”

I felt a pang of guilt and looked away.

“Bea Dutton is on the subway, on her way to meet
me here. She wants to show me the historical footprint of these buildings.”

While we waited, Mercer told Mike the details of
our interview with Jane Eliot.

He had barely finished the story when Mike pulled
out his cell phone.

“Slow it down,” Mercer said. “Who are you
calling?”

“Carmine Rizzali. If I find that useless thug who
she pays to protect her, we’ll know where Minerva Hunt is.”

I could see Bea walking from Lexington Avenue,
waving as she saw us standing on the steps of the brownstone.

Mike slapped the phone shut. “Doesn’t even go to
voice mail. Guess he’s catching on,” he said. “Yo, Bea. What have you got for
me?”

“Can we go inside, so I can spread out my maps?”

“Sure,” Mike said, leading us down to the basement
apartment—the scene of Tina’s assault and Karla’s murder. Crime scene tape was
still draped across the doorway, but Mike had brought a key with him.

When we reached the kitchen table, Bea unzipped
her bag. “What do you know about these buildings?” she asked.

“Only that there’s lousy karma in this basement
lately.”

“It didn’t start out that way,” she said. “You
know something about the Hunts, I take it?”

“Nothing good,” Mike said. “Educate me.”

“Jasper Hunt and John Jacob Astor became partners
in the real estate business. What Manhattan properties Astor didn’t buy, Hunt
did.”