Seven Deadly Samovars (25 page)

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Authors: Morgan St James and Phyllice Bradner

Tags: #Mystery

BOOK: Seven Deadly Samovars
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“No way! Maybe you would treat someone like that, but not me!”

Godiva threw her hands in the air and mumbled, “Okay, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, you win.” She did some quick math in her head. “So that comes to about seventy grand, which leaves about ninety for each of us.”

Goldie shot her sister a look of astonishment. “The heck it does! What about Mrs. Wurlitzer’s poor maid Emma? She lost her life over those stones; we need to do something in her memory. I’ll bet that mean old bat probably put her in a pauper’s grave, we have to make sure she gets a nice headstone and maybe her friend who works next door can tell us if Emma had a relative back in Romania to send a little something to. I know we don’t have to, but you can’t be that cold-hearted. You know it would be the right thing.”

After a bit of grumping, Godiva had to admit that her sister was right. She consented to put ten thousand aside for Emma’s heirs, if Angel could find them. “That leaves us about a hundred and seventy to split.”

“Whoa! Don’t count your chickens yet, Lady Godiva. As far as I know, Mimi did leave her building to The Fishermen’s Benevolent Society, although we won’t know until her will is read. But it’s an old building and they’ll need money to keep it up. We should make a big donation to the Society in Mimi’s name. Lord, I miss her. We have to do something exceptional in her memory. I insist.”

“Darn it, Goldie. Your perpetual kindness is sort of creepy, you know? It’s no wonder you never have much money.”

“To each his own, Sis. My pleasure is giving to others and yours is living extravagantly and flashing your diamonds.”


Touché
. Okay, I feel guilty enough to yield now. How about this? In addition to the ten thousand for Emma’s family we donate eighty thousand in Mimi’s name to that fisherman’s fund. Is that good enough for you?”

Goldie smiled with satisfaction. “Yeah, I’ll go along with that. Maybe they can even figure out what kind of a non-profit business would generate enough money to help out guys like Taku when they can’t fish anymore.”

Godiva nodded. “That still leaves us forty-five thousand each—assuming these Russians are on the up-and-up. Guess we’ll find out when they get here. So, what will you do with yours? You could build an extra bathroom in your house, or put in an elevator.”

“No, I was thinking maybe I’ll add twenty thousand of my share to what we give the fishermen to make it an even hundred thousand. I’m sure it won’t be hard for me to find places to spend the rest.”

There was a long silence. Then Godiva’s face brightened. “You know, you just gave me an idea. In my tax bracket, if I give twenty or thirty thousand of it to charity, I might come out ahead in the long run. I’ll check with my accountant to see how much I can give away and still make money. Donating to a women’s shelter would look good for my image, anyway.”

Goldie looked at her twin with a mixture of astonishment, approval and aggravation. “Well, whatever it takes, I guess.”

“Hey, just make me a promise, okay?”

“Sure. What do you want?”

“Quit sprinkling me with the milk of human kindness. I’ve never given so much money away in such a short period of time. You’re killing my survival skills.”

 

FORTY

 

“Geez, I’m sorry Caesar,” Angel answered the handsome chef’s fifth futile phone call, “but Godiva still doesn’t want to talk to you. Yes, of course. I’ll tell her.”

She turned around, pushed her glasses up and looked straight into Godiva’s eyes. “Boss, this is nuts! You’re supposed to be the one who gives people good advice, but now it’s my turn to wag my finger at you. You need to talk to Caesar, give him a chance to explain. And then if you aren’t satisfied, tell him to get lost.”

Goldie jumped in, “Yeah, Sis, stop playing this cat and mouse game. I talked to Chili before she left the house this morning and she said Caesar is a basket case. He’s putting pressure on her to get involved. You’re not being fair to anyone. You need to kiss and make up or just say ‘
Ciao
Baby’.”

Godiva avoided their stares by shuffling through the letters in the “you should read” pile for the third time, she pulled out one and waved it at Goldie and Angel. “This guy has sort of the same problem that I do. His fiancé made up a pack of lies about her ‘wealthy Boston family’. One day they ran into someone from her home town, which most definitely was not Boston, but some shanty town in the Ozarks.” She put the letter down on her desk and tapped it with a vengeance. “Seems like it was quite a conversation. The friend teased her about her bad reputation with the boys, about her family’s inbreeding and illiteracy. Well, it isn’t much different than what Caesar did to me. Except, of course, for the lack of branches on the family tree.”

Goldie prompted her. “And…”

“And so until I answer this letter, I won’t know what I’m going to do. Whatever answer I give Dazed in Duluth, should be what I do myself. I wish I could just sweep it under the rug, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.”

The morning passed quickly and uneventfully. As Goldie repacked Rosita Burrito’s samovar, carefully attaching the certificate of authenticity she made up on her new computer, Waldo nudged her leg and whined, “
Dannnnnce
”. He had wandered around all morning trying to show off his now slightly droopy red bow. Unable to resist those big puppy dog eyes any longer, she put on the music and waltzed around the living room with him. Waldo outdid himself, proving to be a better dancer than Goldie’s husband Red.

A few minutes later Flossie and Sterling came in, decked out in their spangled costumes. Sterling fluffed Waldo’s bow and said, “Okay old boy, it’s Thursday, and you know what that means. It’s show time! Come on. Time to go to the Home for Hollywood Has Beens. Our audience is waiting.” He gave the twins a sharp salute and the three performers did a little two-step out the door.

Early in the afternoon the DHL Courier delivered the package from Rudy. There amid the gaudy rhinestone broaches and bracelets were the two missing Stars of Siberia, exact matches to the five hidden in Godiva’s safe. So far, the police had shown no interest in the smuggled gems. Either they were too absorbed in sorting out which jurisdictions should prosecute the murderers, or the tight-lipped Russians would not acknowledge that they ever had the jewels.

At dinner the whole family discussed the pending visit from the antiquities officials and Godiva brought the Seven Stars of Siberia out of her safe in the hidden room. While everyone sat around the dining room table, she carefully laid the stones out on a silver serving tray where they twinkled under the light of the chandelier. Goldie sighed, Chili gasped, Sterling harrumphed and Torch examined them silently as his Grandma Flossie said a little prayer over the seven magnificent alexandrites in front of her.

As they discussed everything that had happened since the samovars first arrived at the Silver Spoon, Sterling said, “The thing that still bothers me, Goldie, is how did those Dumkovskys know you had the samovars in the first place? You said they burst into your shop and demanded them, why didn’t they go to the church where the smuggling was going on?”

“It’s a good question, Unk. Godiva and I talked about that last night. We both feel like there’s still a missing piece right in the middle of the puzzle. But with Minsky and Pinsky gone, we may never know the whole story.”

Flossie clasped her hands. “Look how these stones are such a beautiful ruby red.”

Sterling mumbled, “Looks more like blood red to me.”

The following morning while the twins were having breakfast Goldie said, “I’ve really got to get back to Juneau. I never expected to be gone this long. After we finish with our Russian visitors today, you won’t need me here, so I made a reservation on a flight back to Juneau for eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. Can you take me to the airport, or should I ask Uncle Sterling?”

Godiva patted Goldie’s hand. “Of course I’ll take you. I’m actually going to miss you, you know? As soon as you get back, you’ll have to start investigating to see if you can find that missing link. I suppose Belle has been snooping around more than your energetic Police Chief, but I don’t think you can trust half of her information. Let me know right away if you unearth anything, okay?”

Goldie reached for her ever-present yellow pad. “I’m one step ahead of you, already. I’ve been making a list of things to check out in Juneau. You know, Unk put his finger on it last night. How in the world did the Dumkovskys know I had the samovars? Trust me, I won’t stop until I find out.”

Just before noon a taxi pulled up to the gates of the estate. Ricky Thompson and his sidekick Ivan were waiting inside. They headed to the front door accompanied by a dark haired stocky man in a rumpled gray suit and a younger blond man dressed all in black. Godiva invited all four of them into the elegant foyer. The Russians smiled woodenly and flashed their credentials, “Allow us to introduce to you. We are agents Korsakov and Cherimenko. We are excited about Seven Stars. You have all?”

“Let’s not talk out here in the hall, gentlemen,” Godiva said. “I hope you don’t mind being accompanied by my friends here.” She motioned toward Ricky and Ivan. “They will have to check you for firearms before we go any further. One cannot be too careful, you know.” After establishing that her guests were unarmed, she ushered them into the huge living room.

Cherimenko swept the room with wide eyes. “Hmmmph. You live in such a mansion, Madam, surely you are not needing reward money?”

Goldie said through clenched teeth, “With all due respect, gentlemen, my sister’s home is none of your business. Not only were three people killed, but an innocent man spent time in jail because of those stupid stones. That’s where most of the reward money will go.”

Godiva stepped in and gently pushed Goldie aside. “Would you gentlemen like a cup of tea while we work this out?” She rang for Guadalupe. “Please bring some tea for everyone, Lupe, and some pastries too.”

She turned back to them taking a firm stance. “It’s really quite simple, gentlemen. Your country has offered a reward for the missing Seven Stars of Siberia and we have found them. Now you must make sure they are authentic and we must make sure that you are the real thing also.”

When she explained that the funds had to be received in her bank by way of an official government draft before the gems would be turned over to them, the two men looked startled. “You are questioning?” Korsakov bellowed. “Madam, it is point of honor!”

Godiva excused herself, leaving the two fuming agents in the care of her bodyguards. When she came back into the room carrying the Seven Stars of Siberia in a velvet-lined box, she was accompanied by her son Torch. Decked out in a tight black tee shirt and black cargo pants, the muscular young man took his place beside Ricky and Ivan. The agents shrank back into their champagne-colored chairs in the face of the formidable trio.

Godiva placed the silver serving tray on the cocktail table and laid out the seven ruby red alexandrites. “Gentlemen, here they are, and they are truly magnificent.” She asked Goldie to bring the fluorescent desk lamp from her study and performed the same lighting experiment they had done a few days before. The agents smiled with satisfaction as the gems turned a deep emerald green. “I’m only showing these to you now so you know we actually do have them and we aren’t playing any games.” She allowed them to inspect the gems thoroughly as Torch hovered over their shoulders. Then she placed them back in the velvet box and handed it to her son. “Would you please put these back in the safe, Torch.” He nodded and with great ceremony carried the box out of the room.

To the men, she said, “So it is agreed, we will make the exchange only after the money from your government is in my account. Here’s a copy of the receipt you will be expected to sign when I turn the gems over to you and my attorney will be here to act as a non-involved witness.” She held out the document Oscar Goldensheim had prepared for her along with another sheet of paper. “You can read this over in the meantime and you will find my account information on the other sheet. My banker said it shouldn’t take more than a day or two for the funds to arrive. You are welcome to use my telephone to contact your agency if you wish.”

Despite Godiva’s earlier statement, Angel had already verified that the men were legitimate government representatives. She led Agent Korsakov to a telephone in the far corner of the immense room. The blond Cherimenko gave a wry smile. “We all happy now. Big party being planned to celebrate return of the Stars. It will be at State Hermitage Exhibitions in Constantine Palace in Strelna outside of St. Petersburg.”

The young agent beamed with national pride. “It is perfect place to display collection. Constantine Palace and Park originally belonged to Romanov Imperial household. Government restored this fine building in 2003. Now called Palace of Congresses, official residence of President of the Russian Federation. Also houses permanent exhibition on heraldry from State Hermitage Museum collections. Very lovely.”

 “Mr. Cherimenko,” Goldie said, “how did you and your collegues trace the gems to Minsky and Pinsky in the first place?”

Cherimenko leaned forward and his voice took on a conspiratorial tone, “The Romanov jewels were great secret after Revolution. Someone in household smuggled out and gave to nuns in convent to keep safe. Convent has no money, no food, old Mother Superior sell one piece to very rich man.”

Goldie gasped. “The tiara!”

“Da. Da. Yes. Tiara. He gives enough money for keep convent going twenty years!”

“Wow, that’s a lot of rubles.”

“Da. Da, very valuable. But this man, Sergei Kalashnikov, he must hide his treasure. Is very dangerous to possess such a thing. He puts in secret compartment in old desk. Kalashnikov dies, kaput! No one knows, they push old desk in corner.”

 “So how...”

“Ahhhh, now is good part. Last old nun is dying, she tells government agent about jewels and also tiara with seven beautiful stones. It takes Cherimenko and Korsakov four years to follow trail to Kalashnikov.” He thumped his chest for emphasis. “And, what do we find? One week before, your Minsky and Pinsky are buying the old furniture from Kalashnikov’s broken down dacha. We think they bust up desk to use old wood and find this treasure. Then, splut! Warehouse is burning like shish kabob.”

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