Curse of the Jade Lily (30 page)

She didn’t strike me as a woman who made wrong decisions about men, and I told her so.

Von laughed at that. “Well, I made a doozy, only I didn’t know it until Noehring came around,” she said. “That freshman I told you about wasn’t a girl. Was a boy. One of the reasons the parents went crazy. Either Patrick was a pedophile or their son was gay, and they couldn’t have that. You need to remember—this was thirty-five years ago. A different age. No homosexuals on TV back then. The news, though, it changed everything between us. Patrick was the best friend I ever had. If he had told me he was gay he’d still be my best friend. He held it back, probably because of what happened when he was a kid. My point is—boys who love boys should marry boys. They shouldn’t marry girls and pretend to be something they’re not. Sucks for everybody. So we decided to go our separate ways, Patrick and I.”

“What does this have to do with the Jade Lily?”

“When I told Patrick I wanted a divorce, I also told him that I didn’t want a settlement; I didn’t need alimony. It was going to be amicable, you know? He said that I should have something for my trouble, and him, too. I asked what he meant, and he said he was nursing an idea and would get back to me. He didn’t, though. I didn’t know what happened until the insurance man came to question me about the theft.”

“Are you saying that you didn’t know your husband was going to steal the Lily?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Did you tell this to the police?”

“When they came around after they found Patrick, yes, I did. Every word. This cop, his name was Lieutenant Rask; he didn’t want to hear it. Told me not to repeat it. Especially the part about Lieutenant Noehring being a blackmailer.”

“I understand his point of view,” I said.

“Do you?”

“I understand yours, too.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Von, you are the most beautiful liar I have ever met. No, wait”—I gave it a second’s thought—“that honor actually belongs to someone else. You are a strong second place, though. In any case, you’re lying. You lied to the cops; you’re lying to me. I can’t blame you for that.”

“I am not lying.”

“Sure you are. You were in on the theft. You were involved from the very beginning.”

Von smirked. “Prove it,” she said.

“I’m not interested in proving anything. Like I said, I don’t care if anyone goes to jail. If push comes to shove, though, I’d tell the cops to talk to Jenny Thomas.”

Now it was Von’s turn to act surprised. She moved to a chair and picked up the box that had been resting on the cushion.

“Are you tired?” she asked. “Do you want to sit down?”

“No, I’m good,” I said.

Von returned the box to its original position. Her demeanor had shifted in those few seconds. She was still trying to play me, but it was like a tennis player who suddenly discovered that her opponent had a better backhand than she anticipated. She had become less sure of herself.

“So you talked to Jenny,” she said. “What a busy little bee you are.”

“Should we quit screwing around, then?” I asked.

“What do you want?”

“A hundred and twenty-seven thousand dollars.”

“Excuse me?”

“A hundred and twenty-seven thousand dollars. That’s what they were going to pay me when I retrieved the Jade Lily. Only there is no Jade Lily to bring back, so guess what? I’m not getting paid.”

Both Von and Herzog seemed quite confused by my remark.

“I don’t know anything about this, McKenzie,” Von said.

“What do you know?”

“Are you a cop? Are you working for the cops? You have to tell me if you are.”

It was one of the great urban legends, of course, that the police have to identify themselves to criminals when they ask. It’s simply not true and never has been, but who was I to argue with the woman.

“No, I am not a cop,” I said. “No, I am not working for the cops or the insurance company or the museum. What about you, Mr. Herzog?”

“Fuckin’ cops,” he said.

“All I want is my hundred and twenty-seven thousand. Von…” I stepped closer and gave her my most menacing look, the one I practice in front of the mirror when I’m alone. “I mean to get what’s mine. I may not be in any condition right now to beat it out of you. My friend…” I pointed at Herzog. “What do you say, Mr. Herzog?”

“You oughtn’ mess wi’ a man’s money,” he said.

“I don’t have your money, McKenzie. I don’t have any money. You have to believe me.”

“What happened to the one-point-three million that was paid for the Lily?”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

“What do you know?”

“I know…” Von hesitated.

“Yeah,” I said.

She retreated behind a wall of moving crates, but they didn’t seem to give her much comfort.

“It’s true,” she said. “I admit it. I knew Patrick was going to steal the Lily. He had it all planned out. All he needed was a go-between that he could trust, someone he chose and not the insurance company. Jenny had given me your name. She gave me your name because of something else that had nothing to do with the Lily.”

“This other matter—did it have anything to do with Derek Anderson, the man you were having an affair with?”

It was the second time I caught her by surprise.

“Jenny told you a lot, didn’t she?” Von said. “Yes, it was Derek. We weren’t having an affair, though. I was still upset about Patrick, and I guess you could say I was trying him on for size. Only he started making demands. I thought I might need help—I still cared enough about Patrick that I didn’t want him to find out about Derek and me, only this other thing came up.”

“You gave Patrick my name?”

“I did. That’s all I did.”

“What was Patrick’s plan?”

“Steal the Lily and then sell it back,” Von said. “He told me that if we worked it right—if
he
worked it right—the insurance company would pay for the Lily’s return and the police would never be called. He said he knew a man who could launder the money—he said the insurance company would be sure to have it marked—and afterward he would give me a share and that would be the end of it.”

“Why steal the Lily? Why not steal something that was worth more?”

“In case we—he got caught.”

“Who was in on it with him?” I asked. “Besides you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sure you do.”

“I don’t. After the Lily was stolen, Patrick was killed. I believe it was his accomplices who did it, just like everyone else, but I don’t know who they are. I would have told the police if I knew. I loved Patrick. He was my best friend.”

“Who was your best friend?”

The question came from a tall, dark man standing in the doorway. He had opened the front door and stepped into the house without Von or me noticing him. Herzog noticed, though. He took a few steps backward. His right hand was hidden under his jacket at the small of his back. He was staring at the intruder while his peripheral vision picked me up. There was a serious question in his eyes. I answered it with a slight shake of my head. His empty hand came out from under his jacket.

“Who are you people?” the man asked.

“Dennis.” Von maneuvered around the boxes to the door. “This is McKenzie and Mr. Herzog. They’re working for the museum to retrieve the Jade Lily.”

“I don’t care who they work for,” Dennis said.

Von reached his side and took his arm. “It’s all right,” she said.

“No it isn’t. The way the police and the insurance company keep badgering you. Now these guys. No. I won’t allow you to answer any more questions.”

“Are you an attorney?” I asked.

“I don’t need to be a lawyer to know Mrs. Tarpley has rights.”

I drifted to the door until I was standing next to Herzog. I recognized Dennis as I drew closer, even though the first time I had seen him he was standing much farther away. Dennis was the man who met Von in the corridor outside room 108.

“How long have you and Mrs. Tarpley known each other?” I asked.

“We were introduced—” Von said.

Dennis broke her sentence. “That’s none of your business,” he said.

“My associate and I might just make it our business,” I said.

Von stepped in front of Dennis. “McKenzie, please,” she said. “He has nothing to do with the Lily. I promise you.”

“Just so you know, I meant what I said before. I want my money. I’ll be in touch.”

I reached out and tapped the tip of her nose with my finger. In hindsight, it was a silly gesture. After that, Herzog and I bulled our way past Von and Dennis and stepped onto the barely shoveled sidewalk.

“I’ll be in touch,” I repeated.

Dennis slammed the door behind us in reply.

I’m pretty sure I was smiling as we made our way back to the Jeep Cherokee.

“How was I?” I asked. “Scary?”

“Girl Scout,” Herzog said.

*   *   *

Herzog started the Cherokee once we were safely inside, but I told him to wait before he put it in gear. I pulled the printed photograph out of my inside pocket and unfolded it. The sun was starting to set, and I turned on the dome light so Herzog could get a good look at it.

“Do you recognize this gentleman?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. This is—ain’t this the dude inside the house? Dennis somethin’? One just threw us out?”

“He’s also the guy who put the bomb in the motel room.”

“Fuckin’ A.” Herzog stared at the photo and then at Von’s house. “He the one try t’ blow you up?”

“It gets better.” I pointed at the small SUV that had been parked directly in front of the Cherokee while we were in Tarpley’s house—a metallic red Toyota RAV4. “The vehicle he’s driving was seen both at the motel and at the museum the night the Jade Lily was lifted.”

Herzog opened his door.

“Wait, wait,” I said. “Where are you going?”

“Don’ you want to smoke this fuck?”

“It can keep.”

“No time like the present.”

“Nah, nah, not yet.”

“What we waitin’ on? You gonna call the cops?”

“I thought you didn’t like cops.”

“McKenzie, you gotta know—if’n he’s here, ’at proves ’im and the girl are in on it together. The money you lookin’ for probably in one of ’em boxes.”

“No,” I said. “I know where the money is. It’s not here. Not yet, anyway. Otherwise they wouldn’t be wasting time packing.”

“Where the money at, then?”

Instead of answering, I pulled a pen from my pocket and used it to write down the license plate number of the Toyota. Afterward, I looked at my watch, which was on my right wrist because my left wrist was pinned to my chest.

“We need to get going,” I said. “We’re running late.”

*   *   *

It was a bad time of day to drive with traffic crawling on the freeway like a distracted infant. Fortunately, since there were two of us in the Cherokee, we were able to use the car pool lanes. That helped us to be only ten minutes late when we reached El Cid’s joint in the Phillips neighborhood. ’Course, the way Cid behaved you’d think we had delayed a shuttle launch.

“I don’t wait ten minutes for anybody,” he announced when we stepped inside the bar.

I was tempted to blame Chopper, say he must have confused the time when I asked him to set up the meeting. That would have been cheap, though.

“I misjudged the rush hour traffic,” I said. “Sorry.”

“That is no excuse,” Cid said. “Punctuality is one way we show respect for each other.”

He had me there.

“I apologize,” I said.

“This had better be worth my while.”

Cid had been standing when he called me out. Now he slipped into the same booth where he had sat when I first met him. His bodyguard was sitting at the same table. The same hat was on top of the table; I presumed his gun was beneath it. If there was a difference, it was that he openly watched Herzog intently. I could have been carrying a bazooka in my pocket instead of the Walther PPK and I doubt he would have noticed.

I moved to the booth and waited until El Cid nodded his permission before I sat. Herzog stood at the door, his hands casually folded over his stomach, and stared at the bodyguard. He told me before we entered the bar, “I gots t’ say, ’at pussy pulls on you, I’m gonna cap ’is ass.”

“I would certainly hope so,” I told him.

“I agreed to meet you again as a favor to Chopper,” Cid said, the implication being that otherwise I was beneath his notice.

“I appreciate that,” I said.

“Well? What’s it about?”

“When last we spoke, you suggested that you’d be happy to take the Jade Lily off my hands should I stumble upon it. If memory serves, you also mentioned several ways an enterprising man might dispose of it—selling it to interested parties in Europe or the Pacific Rim; perhaps locking it in a vault for safekeeping until the statute of limitations expired and/or a convincing provenance was established. These possibilities existed, of course, before the cop killing made the Lily too toxic to handle.”

Cid spread his hands wide. “Just idle chatter,” he said.

“Of course,” I said. “We’re just talking here. Speculating. For example, I was speculating that if someone were to be arrested for the cop killing, that would remove the curse, if you will, making the Lily more readily marketable.”

“I’m sure it would, although, the last I heard, the Lily was blown to smithereens.”

“Yeah, I heard the same thing.”

“From the look of you, I’d say you were close to the explosion.”

“Close enough to know what others don’t.”

“What would that be?”

“First I have to ask you a question.”

Cid spread his hands wide again.

“Are you an enterprising man?” I asked.

Cid smiled the way some people do when they hear a foolish question. “I believe I am,” he said.

“I have never doubted it.”

“McKenzie, what are we talking about?”

“I have the Jade Lily. I will sell it to you for one-point-three million.”

Cid laughed at my remark. “That’s ridiculous,” he said.

“The price does seem pretty steep, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“If I were you, I’d laugh, too. Especially if the money was coming out of my own pocket.” Cid’s laughter subsided as he got an inkling of what I meant. “However, if someone else were to pay for it…”