Murder 101 (37 page)

McAdams had them in his notes. “
Madonna Litta
and
Madonna Benois
.”

“Thank you,” Decker said. “But you knew, Mr. Kosovsky, that the Hermitage would never, ever release such masterpieces unless the government got a truly one-of-a-kind in return.”

“Which would be?”

“I’ll get to that,” Decker said. “The point is you had negotiating powers, but Latham was getting in the way. So someone told Viktor Gerrard to solve the problem. I can’t swear to it but I suspect that someone in this room knew that Latham and Gerrard were in cahoots. What I suspect is that Gerrard was scared enough of you, Mr. Kosovsky, to solve any problem you might have. Angeline was a by-product because she had gotten too close to John Latham and no one knew exactly how much Latham told her.”

“Your theories are very interesting, I must admit,” Kosovsky said. “But alas . . .” He threw up his hands. “They are just theories.”

“You’re right,” Decker said. “But given enough time, I know I could substantiate them. Not that it would matter to you, Mr. Kosovsky, but it might matter to those of us here who reside in America.”

The lieutenant governor finally piped up. “Detective Decker, the perpetrator of these horrible murders is not in the country. And as Mr. Kosovsky has pointed out, he has been dealt with. It’s not in anyone’s interest to continue on.”

“You mean it’s not in the interest of New York to continue because the first museum to get a Leonardo exhibit would be the Met. And that would be quite a coup for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Decker, what’s the point?” Radar said. “It’s over. You’re not going to get anyone’s cooperation. So unless you want to go rogue, just put a fork in it.”

“He’s not going rogue,” Rina said.

“Ah, the little lady seems to have a grasp on the situation,” Kosovsky said.

Decker started to boil, but Rina held him back with the palm of her hand. “I can’t control what my husband might do. What woman can? But maybe if you do me a favor, Mr. Kosovsky, I’m betting that Detective Decker might think twice before going to the press.”

“That wouldn’t be wise,” said Agent Blond.

Decker said, “I’m not wise, sir, just practical. And I’m not asking for money or anything illegal, God forbid.”

“Ho-kay,” Kosovsky said. “Let us hear what the little lady wants.”

“It is always wise to let the little lady speak,” Rina said. “I do believe that my husband is right. That you, Mr. Beckwith, must have some great bargaining tool that Russia really wants.”

“And what might that be?”

“Maybe like . . . the original Amber Room. That’s what Detective Decker and Detective McAdams have thought all along.”

Kosovsky tried to hide it, but he looked stunned. When no one answered, she said, “Well, maybe not all twenty-seven cartons. Maybe just a couple of them were magically ‘found’ in America in some unknown warehouse.” Rina made quotes with her fingers. “And as a gesture of goodwill, perhaps the U.S. government has agreed to return a carton or two to Russia in exchange for the willingness of the Hermitage to loan out a Da Vi . . . a Leonardo.”

The room was absolutely silent.

“But that’s just a theory,” Rina said.

Beckwith spoke first. “Mrs. Decker, you can hardly compare the value of a Leonardo with a box of amber from the original Amber Room.”

“Of course there is no comparison in rarity and value. Any Leonardo is priceless and even amber from the original Amber Room isn’t anywhere in that league. But I happen to know that your fearless leader, Mr. Kosovsky, was once the deputy mayor of St. Petersburg. To bring home part of a historical treasure would no doubt endear him to his people. The PR would be enormous.”

“You have still not told us what you want,” Kosovsky said.

“I’m getting to that,” Rina said. “The Marylebone Police have been working on a case of missing icons by the famous Russian artist Nikolai Petroshkovich. They were taken from the local church. It would be nice if they could be recovered before the poor detectives passed. They’re elderly and it would be grand to give them some closure.”

Kosovsky was stoic.

“Perhaps you know what I’m talking about?” Rina asked.

“Perhaps.”

“And perhaps you can help?”

“Perhaps . . . with one.”

“Or two.”

Kosovsky’s eyes narrowed. “At the most.”

“That would be lovely.”

Kosovsky looked at his Rolex. “I have a plane—”

“I’m not done.” Rina smiled. “Just another minute, please.”

“What now?”

It came out with anger. Rina spoke quickly. “The Russian Library still holds a vast amount of books and papers from Rav Schneerson’s collection. And while I know that your fearless leader has given the Jewish Museum around five hundred books and articles, there are still many items in dispute. Perhaps you can arrange for another batch of items from the collection to be donated to the Jewish Museum or to the Museum of Tolerance. Think of all the wonderful PR it would generate, Mr. Kosovsky.”

Again, the room went quiet. Rina simply waited him out.

“I can do my best, but that is all I can do,” Kosovsky said. “I am not the fearless leader as you call him.”

“I’m sure your best is better than almost anyone, Mr. Kosovsky.”

“You are a clever woman, Madame Decker. I admire that.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kosovsky.” Rina turned to the CIA agents. “Now you are done.”

The Russian stood up. “I extend the same invitation to you, Madame Decker, and your husband that I do to Detective McAdams. If you ewer find yourself in Moscow, please allow me to host you. I think you would learn a lot about Russia from me.”

“I’m sure that would be true.” A small arch of her eyebrow. “Thank you very much for the invitation.”

The Russian again looked at his gold Rolex. “As I said, I do have a plane to catch. Good day.”

As he headed for the door, Beckwith followed without a word. With Beckwith and Kosovsky on their ways, the lieutenant governor got up. He thanked Rina and then he hurried to catch up. The CIA agents and Mayor Brettly tailed him at a brisk pace.

As soon as they were all gone, Mordechai Gold said, “Check your place for bugs and not of the insect kind.”

“That fast?” Rina said.

“Your house, your cars, your phones, laptops, tablets, ovens, dishwashers, refrigerator . . . and your Jacuzzi.” Gold smiled. “I used to sweep my house and office every few months after I left the CIA. I found bugs all the time. In the last ten years, they’ve given up although I’m sure that will change after this afternoon.”

“How close were we in our theories, Professor?” Decker asked.

“That Kosovsky was willing to negotiate with you should tell you how close you were.” Gold smiled. “Please feel free to call me if you’re concerned about anything. I know these guys and they can be a bit intimidating.” He looked at Rina. “For most people, that is.”

“Never let them see you sweat,” Rina said.

Gold smiled. “I do have to get back to school. Stop by if you’re ever in Cambridge. I’ll show you around.”

“That’s an offer I can take you up on,” Rina said. “I don’t see Russia in my future.”

“No, that trip has been deleted from the bucket list,” Decker said.

“Glad I saw it when I did,” McAdams said.

“I couldn’t afford it anyway,” Mulrooney added.

“You and me both,” Radar said. “Besides I don’t see a lot of vacation time in my future. Brettly’s pissed.”

“Sorry about that,” Decker said.

“Screw him. You, Oliver, McAdams, and Mulrooney did good.” A pause. “Not as good as Mrs. Decker I have to say.”

“I blush,” Rina said.

Decker shook his head. “I have to call Angeline’s parents.” To Mulrooney, he said, “You’ll take care of Latham’s parents?”

“Of course. The news won’t make any of them whole again, but at least we can say the guy was . . . dealt with. Maybe it is better . . . sparing everyone an emotional trial where bad things can come out.”

“Pleasure working with you, Chris.”

“Same here, Pete.” He smiled at Rina. “Nice meeting you, Mrs. Decker.”

“You’re earned the right to call me Rina.”

“Thank you.” Mulrooney waved and left.

With the locals remaining behind, Rina said, “How come it feels like midnight when it’s only five o’clock?”

“Did you know about the Amber Room or was that just a lucky guess?” Radar asked.

“I did happen to know that the fearless leader was the deputy mayor of St. Petersburg. So since I couldn’t think of anything else, I went with what Peter and Tyler have always said.” Rina picked up the kettle. “Tea, anyone?”

“Are you sure Kosovsky didn’t slip a Mickey in it?” Decker asked.

Rina laughed. But then she looked inside. “I don’t see any powder or anything.” She felt the pot. “It’s a little cold. Maybe I’ll just put a fresh kettle on—after I wash it out with soap and water . . . very, very hot water.”

Decker said, “Throw it away, Rina.”

“It’s pure copper.”

“I’ll get you another pure copper kettle. For your contribution to the mess, it probably should be gold plated . . . and studded with diamonds.”

“A copper pot is fine,” Rina said. “No diamonds necessary unless you want to take a trip to Maxwell Stewart’s gallery.”

Oliver said, “This is gonna cost you, Deck.”

“Big time,” McAdams said.

Decker said, “Do you think Maxwell Stewart will give me a discount?”

“After what happened, I think he’d do just about anything to get rid of all of us,” Rina said. “That is only if you’re inclined to prey on the weak, God forbid.”

CHAPTER 38

W
INTER SNOWS MELTED
into a very wet spring, flooding streets and highways. But that was okay with Decker. He and Rina decided to stay put for a while. By the time June rolled around, Greenbury had turned positively bucolic: sylvan woods and clean air filled with warm days, and balmy nights hosting twinkling stars and darting fireflies. There were free concerts and community fairs almost every weekend, the events held in the numerous park grounds that surrounded the town. The Fourth of July fireworks were particularly spectacular. The local theater was gearing up for another season, the performers cast with summer stock from the local colleges and even some New York stage actors in the mood for a change of scenery.

As the weather turned mild, Decker and Rina ventured out again, taking road trips to visit the children and the grandchildren, enjoying their time alone in the car as much as their time with their large family. They took up Professor Gold’s offer to visit Cambridge and Harvard University. They ended their day in Boston with drinks in Summer Village at Chris Mulrooney’s favorite bar.

Chase Goddard continued his antique store up in Boston and with the influx of summer tourists enjoying New England, Decker supposed he was doing fine. Jason Merritt’s gallery certainly did a brisk business especially with the return of two Petroshkovich icons. It was a great day of celebration for Marylebone, Rhode Island, and a great day for Allan Sugar and his partner, Douglas Arrenz. There were some murmurings of more of the Schneerson documents coming to the United States, but nothing had materialized so far. And there were no news items or articles about any traveling Leonardos, same with the Amber Room.

But these kinds of sensitive negotiations took time.

On midsummer’s day, Decker followed Gold’s advice and swept the house for hidden bugs. There were three of them—one in his car, one in the dishwasher, and one in the bedroom. At first Decker was incensed at the invasion of privacy. After cooler minds prevailed, he found humor in it. Maybe the recipients on the other end would learn a thing or two from them.

He still thought about the case, mostly when he was relaxed and alone. He knew things were irrevocably changed for Angeline’s parents and for the Lathams. But thirty years of police work had taught him to compartmentalize in order to stay sane.

With the dog days of summer passing quickly, McAdams began folding up shop. By mid-August, he was ready to roll. His injuries had healed and he felt better than ever, spending more time in the local gym. He still retained his Upper East Side superior attitude, but it was tempered with humor. The week before he started law school, he decided to go to the Hamptons to visit his father and mother—separate houses—for a few days.

On McAdams’s last day in Greenbury, he went to say good-bye to the Deckers. It was on a Saturday afternoon and the Loo and his wife were in the backyard on the patio, lazing in a couple of lounge chairs. Decker was in shorts and a T-shirt, Rina was in a polo shirt and a denim skort with her hair tied up and covered with a kerchief. On the tabletop were lemonade and beer, potato chips and crackers, and of course, Rina’s homemade cookies. McAdams pulled up a chair, popped a cold one, and nibbled on a cracker.

Decker was swigging from a longneck. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until tomorrow. We’d be happy to drive you down . . . we just can’t do it on Shabbos.”

“No, I think I’d rather take the train,” McAdams said. “Unless you want to visit the Hamptons. But it comes with my crazy relatives.”

Rina said, “I like Nina.”

“She’s in Florence, Italy, for the summer.”

“Well, then I’ll pass.” Rina took a potato chip. “Are you excited about law school, Tyler?”

“I am resigned about law school.”

“It won’t be so bad.”

“I’m sure it’ll be better than getting shot.”

Decker said, “You’ll sail through it, Harvard.”

“I’m not worried . . . more like annoyed. But there are worse positions to be in. So I won’t complain . . . unless I feel like it . . . which is often.” He turned to Decker. “How happy will you be not to hear my bitching.”

“Very happy.”

“You’ll miss him,” Rina said.

“No, I won’t,” Decker said. “But I might miss your iPad.”

“I’ll send you one.”

“It’s not the iPad, it’s the brain,” Rina said.

“I will concede that you had promise,” Decker said. “But it would probably all go to waste anyway. Not much has happened in the last four months other than a lot of drunk and disorderlies around graduation time.”

“And the OD at Kennedy’s Pub,” Rina said. “That was pretty exciting.”

“Not so much,” McAdams said. “The kid made it.”

Rina laughed. “You’re terrible.”

McAdams smiled. He set the empty beer bottle down on the tabletop. “I spoke to Radar this morning. He said I can come back anytime. Unusually nice of him. Maybe he’s hoping for a donation.”

“Maybe he means it as a sincere offer,” Rina said.

“Technically I do have summers off.”

“Even cops go on vacation and you know the ropes,” Decker said. “Not a bad idea.”

“You think?”

“It’s easier than training a temp, although you’ll have to bone up on your shooting skills. I’m not working with anyone who can’t use a firearm.”

“That can be arranged,” McAdams said.

“What do you mean technically you have summers off?”

“Summer is traditionally the time where lawyers-to-be grab coveted legal internships. So being the contrarian that I am, I’m figuring that while most of my classmates will be slaving away with long hours and great food allowances at white shoe firms, I’d like to be back here in Greenbury, rescuing cats from trees, bitching about mankind’s stupidity, and working on my screenplay.”

“You’re like shingles,” Decker said. “I can’t get rid of you.”

“There is a vaccine for that,” McAdams said. “But you’ve got to be old to take it.”

Decker threw a potato chip at him. “So I’ll see you next summer?”

“That would be a definite yes.”

“About your screenplay, Tyler,” Rina said. “What about making the protagonist a woman?”

“It’s a possibility. I do have some good role models for it. But I don’t think I could write it as good as the real thing.”

Rina grinned. “So make it a man. You’ve got a lot to choose from there.”

“I do.”

“What’s that I hear?” Decker cupped his ear. “Is that Hollywood calling your name?”

Tyler laughed. “I don’t know about that. But you know what they say. Write what you know. And I know some pretty gutsy people.” He stood up and grabbed a handful of cookies. “For the train.”

“Help yourself,” Rina said.

Decker stood up. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Stay where you are, Old Man,” McAdams said. “I can see myself out.” He hugged them both. “Thanks.”

“For getting you shot? You’re welcome.”

“No, I could have done without that. But at least I’m walking on my own two feet. More than that, Old Man, thanks to you, I’ve learned how to stand on my own two feet.” A genuine smile crinkled the corners of his hazel green eyes. “I’ll see you and the rest of Greenbury’s finest next summer and that’s a promise.”

After he left, Decker sat back down and took a swig from the long neck. “I think I’ll miss him . . . maybe.”

“You’ll miss him. Admit it.”

He thought a long, long time about that. Then he turned to Rina and smiled. “Maybe.”