The Girl Is Trouble (18 page)

*   *   *

MY WEEK OF SLEEPLESS
NIGHTS finally caught up with me and I overslept the next morning. Pop was still sleeping when I got up for school, and I had exactly ten minutes to get dressed and pack for my weekend.

As I came downstairs, hauling my bag behind me, Mrs. M. greeted me with a piece of toast and a glass of milk.

“Here. You be late.”

“Thanks.” I gobbled the bread and chased it with the cow juice.

“Have fun with your aunt and uncle,” Mrs. M. told me as I threw on my coat and hat.

I told her goodbye and rushed out the door and onto the street. My bag was heavy. In an effort to pack quickly, I’d grabbed too much, uncertain what I was going to need during my time at Miriam and Adam’s. Not only did I have clothes, but my camera and Pop’s picklocks. I transferred the bag from one hand to the other and tried to double my pace.

School appeared in the distance, but something was strange about it. A banner hung over the front doors. It had been torn in half and its two portions now hung limp and flapping in the wind. “Hitler Is Right,” said one half as the breeze lifted and stretched it. The other half was mercifully unreadable, though it was easy enough to guess at its content.

A crowd had formed on the steps, staring up at the torn message. I could see Paul, Michael, Saul, Judy, and Denise among the group. The warning bell rang and the crowd remained in its place, staring at the fabric flapping in the breeze. As I approached, teachers ordered everyone inside and told them to get to class. Reluctantly, the crowd disbanded. By the time I reached the steps, they were gone, giving me a chance to view the other half of the banner unimpeded.

“Death to the Jews,” it said.

*   *   *

THE BANNER WAS ALL ANYONE
wanted to talk about during first period. Rather than encouraging the conversation, Mr. Pinsky ordered us all to take out our health-and-hygiene texts and read about the importance of washing our hands.

I stared at the page for half an hour but I couldn’t tell you what it said if my life depended on it. Get your hands wet and use soap, maybe?

Why had the note-writer escalated things? That was all I could wonder the whole time I sat in class. If the group was right and Pearl was behind it all, how had she managed to hang the banner by herself? That was a feat that required at least two people.

A boy interrupted class with a package from the front office. Mr. Pinsky removed the mimeographed page from the folder and told us all he had an announcement.

“What we witnessed this morning was an outrageous act directed at the Jewish students in our community. Such stunts will not go unpunished. Anyone who knows anything about the perpetrator or perpetrators behind this terrible crime is ordered to come to the principal’s office immediately.”

While everyone processed what that meant, I absorbed the words it didn’t include: the investigation was no longer in our hands. The school was taking over.

*   *   *

I DREADED GOING
to lunch and facing Pearl, but I knew it had to be done. I didn’t want to run the risk of leaving her alone and having the federation confront her before I had a chance to warn her. As I entered the cafeteria, I scanned the crowd, looking. She wasn’t there. I took my seat at our regular table and waited five, ten, fifteen minutes, but still no Pearl. The members of the federation weren’t there, either. But Denise was.

“Can I join you?” she asked halfway through lunch.

“Sure,” I said. “Where is everyone?” Had they lured Pearl someplace private to talk over their suspicions? God help Paul if they accused her before I could alert her.

“I’m not sure. I heard a rumor that Mr. DeLuca is questioning all the people who got the notes.”

“Seriously?”

She removed a compact from her pocketbook and smiled at the mirror. With her index finger she scraped off a tiny scrap of green that was wedged between her teeth. “It’s about time. I told Paul he should go to the principal about this days ago.”

“Michael seemed to think the principal wouldn’t care,” I said.

She closed the compact and returned it to her purse. “Maybe about the notes, but the banner is hard to ignore. I heard there was a newspaper photographer taking pictures before they took it down. If something shows up in the papers about this, he’s going to have to care.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” I said.

Her eyes widened. “Why would I be? It’s all so embarrassing. I mean, it’s fine that they’re Jewish, but do they have to draw so much attention to it?”

“I’m Jewish, too,” I said.

She patted the table with her hand. “I know, but you keep it to yourself. That’s much more dignified.”

My mouth opened so wide it’s amazing my chin didn’t hit the table.

“I’d better go,” said Denise. “Paul might’ve gone back to the newspaper office to wait out the rest of lunch. See you around.”

Not if I see you first, I thought.

I got more of the scoop on what was going on during afternoon classes. Mr. DeLuca had indeed questioned everyone who got the notes. He’d also rounded up the usual campus suspects: Benny, Dino, and a few other boys who seemed to materialize wherever a crime was being committed. As bad as I felt for Benny, that at least meant the federation hadn’t yet shared their suspicions about who the culprit was. The school day came to a close and I rushed to Pearl’s locker to find out what had happened during her interview. She wasn’t there. I headed to the front steps of the building to see if she was waiting for me and saw her at the curb, where she was standing beside a cab with my aunt Miriam.

The federation would have to wait. We were about to go into Uncle Adam’s lair.

CHAPTER

16

AFTER SPENDING THE ENTIRE DAY
obsessing over the federation, I’d almost forgotten about Uncle Adam and Aunt Miriam. As I walked to the curb to join Pearl, I struggled to prepare for the weekend. I needed to get a photo of Adam. What else? It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to search his office. If Mama kept a note from him, it was possible he had held on to letters from her. Fortunately, I had my picklocks packed and ready to use to gain access to his office. But what I didn’t have was an excuse to be in the apartment by myself long enough to perform a search.

I paused in my path and coughed into my hand. My body swayed slightly and I reached out to steady myself but found nothing to grasp.

I resumed walking under the gaze of my worried aunt.

“Iris,” she said, meeting me halfway. “Are you all right?”

“Just feeling a little … woozy,” I said. Another cough, hopefully more convincing than the first.

“You poor thing—you sound terrible. How long have you been sick?”

About thirty seconds by my watch
. “I woke up feeling a little weird, but I just assumed I was tired.”

“I knew this was going to happen. After walking around in that ice storm the other day you were practically begging for a head cold. As soon as we get home, I’ll have Lydia make you some hot tea. Come on—let’s get you in the cab.”

As I climbed into the backseat, Benny came into my line of sight. He hovered halfway between school and the curb and raised his hand in a tentative greeting. I waved back. He mouthed something but I couldn’t figure out what he was saying from that distance. I shrugged and he held up both hands with his fingers pinched together like he was dangling something between them.

Whatever Benny wanted, it would have to wait. I had more important things to attend to.

It was a long drive to the Upper East Side. We sat with Pearl between us and, like Fred Astaire to my Ginger Rogers, she immediately fell into step with me.

“You’re burning up,” said Pearl.

“Is it cold in here?” I said.

“Turn up the heat,” Miriam barked at the driver.

“Here, take my coat,” said Pearl. She removed it and set it on my lap.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I don’t want to ruin your weekend.”

“Nonsense,” said Aunt Miriam. “You can’t help being sick. Perhaps it’s better this way. Adam wanted us all to go to the Pollocks’ party this evening, but honestly I’d prefer to stay in. You remember them, don’t you, Iris? On Central Park West? Their parties are always terribly dull.”

This was not going as I’d hoped. I elbowed Pearl in the ribs.

“Oh!” she said. “I love parties.”

“And the Pollocks have such a lovely home,” I told her.

“Oh. Well, maybe I’ll get to see it another time,” said Pearl. She was playing it a little too heavy-handed, but fortunately, Aunt Miriam didn’t seem to notice.

“Perhaps Iris will be feeling better in a few hours,” she told Pearl. “And then we can go after all.”

“You could always go without me,” I said, being careful to punctuate the suggestion with another cough. “I wouldn’t mind. Honest. I’d hate for Pearl to miss out on something like that.”

“We’ll see,” said Aunt Miriam.

By the time we arrived uptown, my imaginary illness had escalated to uncontrollable shivers that forced me to wrap my arms about myself. As we entered the apartment, Aunt Miriam demanded that I go lie down while she fixed me some tea.

“Thank God that’s over,” Pearl said once we were alone in the guest bedroom I’d stayed in the previous December. Pearl took in our surroundings with wide-eyed amazement: furniture that matched, linens that were unstained, wallpaper that didn’t curl, rugs that bore no wear from feet passing over them, paintings that were actually worth more than the frames they hung in. “I never thought a cab ride could feel so long. So what’s the plan?”

“I decided I should search his office.”

“What are you looking for?”

“I’m not sure yet.” On the surface it was a lousy plan, but when you examined it carefully … it was still a lousy plan. “Maybe he held on to letters from her, something that would explain why she ended up in Yorkville that day and whether or not he was the man Anna saw with her.”

“It would seem awfully silly for someone to hang on to evidence from a crime.”

I had to agree. Uncle Adam was hardly a stupid man. “Just do what you can to keep them out of the apartment.”

“What about the photo?”

I gestured for her to keep her voice down, just in case anyone was listening outside the door. “I’ll find one tonight.”

“What if they notice—?”

“They won’t, Pearl. Okay?” It was snottier than I’d intended, but the enormous task in front of me suddenly felt hopeless. I wasn’t going to find anything in Adam’s office. He wasn’t a foolish man. If he were, an entire year wouldn’t have passed without his being caught. And did I really think Aunt Miriam wouldn’t notice when I plucked their portrait off the fireplace mantel and stuck it in my overnight bag? “I’m sorry,” I told Pearl. “I’m just overwhelmed by all of this and don’t know where to start. Maybe Pop was right to test me before letting me loose in the field. I don’t think I’m cut out to be a detective.”

“What do you mean by ‘testing’ you?”

That was right—I hadn’t told her about Jim McCain. “The man I tailed last weekend? It turns out he was a friend of Pop’s. Oh, and it looks like everything else Pop’s had me doing was also a big fat lie designed to keep me busy and out of his hair.”

“Don’t be silly. If your pop was testing you, it was to keep you safe, not because he didn’t think you could hack it. Look at how much you figured out when Tom Barney went missing—you did that all on your own. If you figured that out, you can figure this out, too.”

I hoped she was right, but I had a feeling her faith in me was as misplaced as the faith I used to have in Uncle Adam. “So what happened today?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you were questioned about the notes.”

“Oh, that.” She rolled her eyes. “It was stupid, really. Principal DeLuca made all of us who got notes come see him one by one. I honestly felt like he didn’t believe me when I told him about it, and of course I didn’t have it…”

“Because you gave it to me.”

“Right. It’s clear he found the whole thing irritating to have to deal with. Not only did I have to sit through the grand inquisition, I had to miss lunch, too.” To demonstrate that point, she pulled a paper sack from her bag and removed her sandwich.

“What about yesterday?” I asked. “Paul said you went home sick.”

“I had to. I was too upset after we found the note.”

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For telling Paul about it.”

“Oh, that.” She rolled her eyes again. “I would’ve told him sooner or later.”

The scent of liverwurst filled the room, making it easy for me to pretend to be nauseated. Pearl pulled apart the sandwich and studied its contents like she’d never seen liverwurst before. “They think I did it.” She looked up from her lunch. “The whole federation is certain I’m the one writing the notes.”

Here’s what I should’ve said: “That’s ridiculous.” Here’s what I actually said: “Did you?”

She dropped the sandwich back onto its waxed-paper shroud. “Are you serious?”

“No … I mean … No.”

“You are,” said Pearl, her disbelief making her eyes water. “You honestly believe I could write those awful things.”

“I don’t. But I can understand why they do. You were upset that they kicked you out.”

“Of course I was. That doesn’t mean that I demonstrated it by writing anti-Semitic notes. And if you’ll remember,
I’m
the one who told you you should take the case.”

I didn’t bother to point out that that was the perfect way to distract me from what she was doing. “There were times when you were more than happy not to do the stakeouts,” I said.

“Because I was helping you find out about your mother. And even still there wasn’t a day that I didn’t stand in those halls, waiting—”

There was a knock at the door. I jumped into the twin bed I’d claimed for myself and did my best to look weakened with fever.

“Come in,” said Pearl.

Aunt Miriam entered with her maid fast at her heels. The young woman toted a silver tray that she set on the dresser. “Oh, this won’t do,” she told Pearl. “We can’t have you getting sick, too. Let’s put you next door, Pearl. Lydia,” she said to the maid, “please move Miss Levine’s things into the other guest room.”