The Girl Is Trouble (17 page)

Or Mama’s.

That was the piece of the puzzle that still hadn’t been explained: what happened to Mama’s money. Miriam said Mama had made some bad financial decisions, but wasn’t it possible that Adam had gotten access to what she had and used it to buy off the police and Anna Mueller?

“How do you prove it?” asked Pearl after I explained to her what I was thinking.

“I guess I start by confirming it was him. I could show Uncle Adam’s picture to Anna and see if she recognizes him.” Of course, that meant getting a picture of him. “We could steal one from his apartment this weekend.”

Pearl frowned.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I’m just wondering why she would keep that letter.”

“If she loved him, she probably wanted to keep any memento she could of him.”

“But this wasn’t a love letter, Iris. He was breaking up with her. Who keeps a letter like that? And why hide it in her picture when she had to know that someday you or your pop might stumble on it.”

I shrugged. It seemed like a minor point to focus on. “I’m sure she just put it there temporarily. And I’ve saved plenty of things that have bad memories attached to them.”

“Really?”

“Sure,” I said, though I couldn’t think of a single instance of my doing so.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?”

“Right after school. Can you bring your bag with you? My aunt’s going to pick us up in a cab.”

“We’re going to take a cab all the way uptown?” She let out a low whistle. “They must be rich.”

My eyes drifted, as they always did, toward the front of the building, where Benny was holding court with the other Rainbows. I kept hoping he might look my way, that we could share a secret, knowing smile, but he remained focused on Suze and Rhona, who were telling him some animated tale.

What had happened yesterday? What had suddenly made him cool off? Had I made a mistake kissing him? Or was it the tangled tale of what was going on in my family that made him lose interest?

Pearl cleared her throat. “Have you talked to him again?”

I hummed a yes. We entered the building and headed toward our lockers. “We kind of spent the afternoon together yesterday. And we kissed. A lot.” If her eyebrow had gone any higher it would no longer have been attached to her face.

“Are you going to see him again this afternoon?”

“I don’t know. He might have to work.” I felt jittery, though I wasn’t sure if it was the topic or the little sleep I’d gotten. “It didn’t end so well yesterday. I mean, he got really weird right before we separated.”

We paused before Pearl’s locker. “Why?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, what did you two talk about?”

“Mama. My being Jewish. He didn’t know that, believe it or not.”

Pearl worked her combination lock. “Then that’s probably what it was.”

“You think Benny was bothered that I’m Jewish?”

“Who knows? Either way, I guess it’s good that you found out now, before he really broke your heart.”

I didn’t have a chance to respond because just then a note that had been shoved into her locker lost its hold and fluttered to the ground.

CHAPTER

15

PEARL FROZE AND STARED
at the note. When it became obvious that she wasn’t going to pick it up, I did. I unfurled the page and looked down at what was now familiar handwriting: “Jews Are Not Wanted Here. Heed the Warning, or Pay the Price Like Your Brother Did.”

“Oh, God,” said Pearl. She looked like she was going to be sick. If she wrote the note, she was one heck of a performer. But then if she wrote the note, wouldn’t it be in her handwriting?

“Why would they target you?” I asked. “You’re not even in the federation.”

“Maybe they don’t know I was kicked out. Or maybe they saw me doing the stakeout and decided I’d earned a warning, too.”

Or maybe Pearl knew she was close to being found out and decided the best way to get the heat off her was to turn herself into a victim.

The warning bell rang and Pearl slammed her locker shut. “Here,” I said, passing her the note.

She pushed it back toward me. “I don’t want it.”

“Michael might. Or Paul.”

“So everyone can get even more scared and drop out of the federation?”

Nothing was making sense. “It’s evidence,” I said.

“Then you hold on to it. I’m done.”

Naturally Pearl’s words stayed with me, especially when I arrived at lunch and found her missing. I approached Paul’s table and waited for a break in the conversation before asking where she was.

“She went home with a stomachache,” he said, making it clear from his tone that he thought the source of her malady was something else entirely. He looked at Michael and Saul and the three of them started cracking up.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“I hear her Aunt Flo’s visiting,” said Saul.

“And that she’s decorating the place with roses to get ready for her arrival,” said Paul.

“I guess that means both of them will be seeing red,” said Michael.

“You, too?” I said. It was universal. Whether you were Jewish or not, all boys thought period jokes were hysterical.

Denise landed an elbow in Paul’s ribs, abruptly putting a stop to the hilarity.

“Nice,” I said. “Can I talk to you for a minute, Paul?”

“Sure.” He left his seat and followed me toward the lunch line.

“It just so happens that your sister is upset.”

“About what? Did somebody threaten to bomb her ship?” His missing tooth gave him a slight whistle when he talked.

“No, she got a note this morning that threatened to do to her what was done to you.”

“Oh.” The news squashed his grin before I did it for him. “Why didn’t Pearl tell me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Given your history of sensitivity, I can’t imagine why she didn’t. She’s probably trying to protect the federation. She doesn’t want to be the reason the group breaks up.”

Paul didn’t look so convinced. “They think it’s her,” he said.

“What?”

“Saul, Natalie, Ira, Sarah, Judy—they all think Pearl’s the one writing the notes.”

“But you and Michael don’t?”

He shrugged. “My sister’s an odd duck. I wouldn’t put anything past her.”

“You’ve read the notes, Paul. She couldn’t write those things. And besides, why would she do it? To break up the group because they don’t want her around? If that was her plan, she’s failed. It sounds like the only thing the notes have done is convince everyone that the group has to stay together.”

“Not everyone. Some people are still on the fence.”

“Who?”

“Me for one.”

“Seriously?”

“I lost a tooth,” he said, pointing at the gaping black hole in his mouth that hardly needed to be highlighted.

“So you think your sister hired someone to beat you up?”

He didn’t answer. He had to realize how absolutely absurd the idea was.

“If you honestly think Pearl is behind this, why would you even think about leaving the group? Don’t you realize how stupid that sounds?”

“This isn’t about me.” He turned his head slightly. I followed his line of sight back to the table where the federation was sitting. Denise was staring back at him.

“Denise is making you drop out,” I said.

“She’s not making me do anything. If I drop out it’s my decision. And don’t change the subject: we’re talking about Pearl.”

“Right. So what happens now? Is everyone going to accuse Pearl to her face?”

“We’re kind of hoping you could do it for us.”

“We? You mean Michael is in on this, too?”

“We’re a democracy.”

That old chestnut again. I looked toward the federation table. It seemed to me that Michael was making a concerted effort not to look my way. “Forget it. I’m not your lackey.”

“No, but you are working for us.”

“To solve the case, Paul, not to be your messenger. And I haven’t seen any evidence that suggests Pearl has anything to do with this. In fact, she’s the one who insisted I take the case.”

“Sure,” he lisped. “To get back into the federation’s good graces. Who better to investigate the crime than the best friend of the criminal? She practically guaranteed that she wouldn’t get caught.”

“Go soak your head,” I said, even though I’d had the same thought myself.

“And we have something better than evidence: we have an eyewitness.”

That stopped me. “What are you talking about?”

Paul crossed his arms triumphantly. “Judy Cohen saw her putting the note in her locker.”

“No she didn’t.”

“Are you calling her a liar? You can interrogate her yourself if you like.” He raised his arm like he was going to call her over. I caught him at the elbow and stopped him before he could wave.

“That’s not necessary. I’m sure that’s what she thinks she saw.”

“Look, it’s your choice, but I’m telling you now: things are going to be a lot easier on Pearl if you tell her the jig is up and get her to stop writing the notes. Get her to go away quietly and they might be willing to forget everything.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then things might get a lot harder for her at P.S. 110.”

“Let me think about it,” I said. “She’s going away with me this weekend. If I decide to do this, I’m going to do it then.”

“I know you’ll do the right thing, Iris.”

I skulked away, shaking my head in disgust.

*   *   *

WHEN I GOT HOME
that afternoon, Mrs. M. greeted me from the kitchen and broke the news that Pop was planning to be gone for much of the night.

“Where?” I asked.

“He no tell me.” Of course he didn’t. Despite Pop’s planned absence, it didn’t escape my notice that the table was set for three people.

“Are we having company?” I asked.

“Betty is coming.”

“Again?” I immediately regretted sounding so snotty. “I mean, is everything okay with her? She’s been spending a lot of time here lately.”

“Oh, she’s fine. She have plans tonight in the area. I tell her she should eat with us first.”

Plans, hmmm? Could this be Pop’s and her attempt to throw me off their trail? Perhaps they thought if Betty showed up to dinner while Pop was out I wouldn’t think they were planning on meeting up later.

I called to check on Pearl and got her mother instead. She assured me that Pearl was going to be fine and would still be able to go away with me for the weekend. Betty arrived twenty minutes later, dressed to the nines, further confirming my theory that she had a date with Pop. As Mrs. Mrozenski finished cooking, she hummed a folk song to herself. The humming turned to full-out singing and the singing was soon joined with foot stomping and hand clapping.

Betty rolled her eyes my way. Boy, howdy—did she really think I would help her gang up on Mrs. M.? Seriously?

“Just once,” she whispered, “it would be nice if Ma remembered that she’s in America now. If I wanted to eat Polish food and listen to Polish music, I’d go to Poland.”

I didn’t respond. Was she so naïve that she didn’t know what was going on in Poland right now?

“I guess it was probably the same with you and your ma,” she said. “Crazy accent, crazy food, always telling you how things were done in the old country.”

“No, it was nothing like that,” I said. “Nothing like that at all.”

“Then you were lucky,” said Betty.

Over a meal of egg noodles and cabbage, Mrs. Mrozenski interrogated Betty about her day. As soon as she paused for breath, I decided to jump in with questions about her night.

“So where are you going after this?” I asked.

“Just out with some friends.”

“Here? On the Lower East Side?”

“I did grow up here, Iris. Most of my girlfriends got hitched and set up housekeeping near here.”

“Where will you go?”

“Here and there,” she said. Before I could ask another question, she turned her attention back to her mother. “Did I tell you I saw Jenny Delaney yesterday? She’s as fat as a house with twins, if you can believe it. And with her husband overseas for the duration.” The news of poor Jenny Delaney’s stretched abdomen took center stage and Betty’s plans for the evening were forgotten.

She stayed long enough to help clean up the kitchen after dinner. Since it was clear that three sets of hands weren’t needed, I retreated to the parlor to do my homework and listen to the radio. As soon as the dishes were done, Betty claimed her coat, hat, and pocketbook and said goodbye to her mother.

Once Mrs. Mrozenski was out of earshot, Betty turned to me. “Iris, can you do me a favor?”

“Um, sure.” I was expecting a reprimand for asking about her imaginary plans in front of her mother. Instead, she handed me an envelope. “What’s this?”

“Can you give it to your pop?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks,” she said. And then she gave me a wink before walking out the door.

It was a plain white envelope with Pop’s name written in her sure, girlish hand. I couldn’t believe she was asking me to be her messenger. I was torn between opening the envelope and reading her note, and tearing the whole thing to pieces and never giving it to Pop at all.

In the end, I did neither. I put the note in the back of my health-and-hygiene text and decided I would hand it to Pop when he arrived home. Let him squirm in front of me as I passed him a love letter from his new girlfriend.

Aunt Miriam phoned to confirm what time she would meet Pearl and me after school and ride with us to the Upper East Side. After I talked to her, I retreated to my room to read. The phone rang a second time and I was certain it was Pop checking in, but if it was, he didn’t ask Mrs. M. to extend any message to me.

I waited up for Pop until midnight. Just as I was turning off my lamp, I heard him arrive home. I tiptoed down the stairs, with Betty’s letter in my hand. He was in his office, kneeling before the safe. A weird sound came from the room. At first I thought he was singing, but as I moved closer to the open door, I realized he was crying.

He was looking at the photos of Mama.

My eyes watered and I silently backed away from the scene. I could wait until morning to give him the letter. There was no reason to do it tonight.