Authors: Carol Tibaldi
Erich grabbed a cab at Penn Station and arrived at the apartment twenty minutes later. When he walked in the door he did a double take at the trail of rose petals leading from the living room into the bedroom. Erich left his jacket at the door, loosened his tie and happily followed the trail. At its end he found Laura lying on the bed, clad only in a black lace bra and matching panties.
He sighed, smiling broadly. “This is what every man dreams of coming home to.” He shook his head, incredulous. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Well, why are you just standing there?” she purred.
He sat on the bed and she took his hand, drawing him toward her. Bad timing, he thought, but he had to tell her now.
“Laura, we have to talk.”
She sat bolt upright. “Something’s happened. What is it?”
“Wilson called me. They found a match.”
She climbed out of bed and put her robe on. “Why didn’t he call me?”
“He tried but got no answer at Willow Pond. He didn’t know where you were so he called me.”
“So who do the fingerprints belong to?”
“Rudy Strauss. Is the name familiar?”
“No.”
“I was wondering if your aunt might have mentioned him to you.”
Laura frowned. “She rarely discussed that part of her life with me. Why? Does he have something to do with her?”
“I think we need to talk to Harry Davis.”
Laura hadn’t been to Bacchanal since Harry had become the manager. She knocked and the peephole opened, allowing Laura to show her card and give the password, which she hoped was still the right one. Someone unlocked the door and she and Erich went right in.
A few people were at the bar, drinking openly. They found Harry in his office, which had once been Virginia’s office. It felt strange, seeing him at her aunt’s desk. When he saw Laura he got up and kissed her cheek.
“Laura, my dear. What brings you here?” Then he noticed Erich and gave him a polite but cool smile. “And you, Mr. Muller?”
“We need to ask you about a man named Rudy Strauss. Do you know who he is?”
“Can’t say that I do. Why do you ask?”
Laura told him what had happened
“Wish I could say that I knew who Rudy Strauss is, but I don’t.”
“Are you sure about this, Mr. Davis?” Erich asked, flicking one eyebrow.
Harry set his feet apart and crossed his arms. “Mr. Muller, I never liked you or your attitude. But I’d never do anything to hurt Laura. If Virginia ever found out that I had, it would be too damn bad for me.”
***
Five minutes after Laura and Erich walked out of Bacchanal, Harry dialed the overseas operator. Virginia picked up the phone on the other end.
“We were just going to have a can-can contest, Harry.” He could hear laughter in the background. “Think of what you’re missing.”
“We may have a problem,” he said.
“Like what?”
He told her about Laura and Erich’s visit.
“You did the right thing. They can’t know. Not yet.”
“He’s a damn good reporter. He’ll find out. You can’t keep them in the dark forever.”
“I can and I will. And you’re going to help.”
“How?”
“By destroying anything that connects us in any way to Strauss. Understand? They can’t know anything until I find Todd.”
“Any leads?”
“I’m working on it.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Where was Rudy Strauss? That was the question weighing on Ben Wilson’s mind in the days following the discovery of Rudy’s fingerprints on Todd Austin’s toy. Was Rudy the kidnapper? To answer the second question, he’d have to answer the first. And right now answering either one seemed impossible.
Working out of the second precinct in Manhattan, Ben spent days going through missing person’s files, and each time he came up empty. He decided to go under the assumption that Strauss was the kidnapper and tried to put himself in Rudy’s shoes. The file on Strauss wasn’t big, but he knew enough about him to know he was a punk whose main goal in life was to make a quick buck. To a guy like Strauss, half a million dollars was the jackpot. Wilson assumed Strauss had spent it as fast as he’d gotten it. By now he wouldn’t have much left. He’d be looking for his next big touch.
Virginia Kingsley’s people denied it, but Ben had the feeling Strauss was tied to organized crime. At first he’d planned to subpoena their records, then decided he didn’t want to make them suspicious. But how else could he get the information about Strauss that he needed? He tapped his fingers on his desk, thinking. He could think of one person who might be able to help. He dialed Willow Pond. The maid told him Mrs. Austin was staying with a friend, and gave him Muller’s phone number.
Laura answered the phone on the second ring.
“Mrs. Austin, it’s Wilson here. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“Not at all.”
“Good. I need you to do a favor for me. This might seem strange, but I feel it’s important. It’s connected to your son’s case. Do you have access to your aunt’s office at Bacchanal?”
“Yes, I have a set of keys.”
“Is anyone else there at this hour?”
“No. Harry opens the place between 2:00 and 3:00 in the afternoon. Why?”
“I want you to get over there as fast as you can and look for any information on Rudy Strauss. Do you understand? You have to be quick and thorough. Can you do that?”
Laura started to put her shoes on. “Do you think Rudy Strauss kidnapped my son?” She flipped through her address book, searching for the car service she always used. “Wait a minute. The baby. I’ll have to bring her with me.”
“I’ll send a man over and you can give him the keys, if it’s too much trouble. But it’s imperative we find out more about Strauss.”
“No, I can do it. It will be fine.”
For the next hour and half, Wilson kept himself busy going through more missing person’s files. Ate half a pound cake and drank three cups of coffee. By 11:30 he was ready to go to Bacchanal himself, fearing he’d made a mistake sending a woman on a man’s errand. By 11:45 he was headed out for a squad car when a taxi pulled up in front of the station house. Laura Kingsley held her wailing baby in one arm and carried a manila folder under the other.
“I have to get this back by tomorrow morning,” she said.
They went inside and he showed her where she could change the baby. He made a fresh pot of coffee then flipped through Strauss’s folder while she tended to the baby. He didn’t have to read much to learn Strauss was from the San Francisco area.
Laura wrapped the baby in a blanket, then sat down and gave her a bottle. The infant drank a little and fell asleep in her mother’s arms.
“You know,” Ben said, “you’d make a good cop, Laura.”
She grinned mischievously. “I don’t know about that, but it was kind of fun. Did you find the information you were looking for?”
“We’ll find out soon.”
He picked up the phone and dialed the S.F.P.D. The call was transferred to the squad commander, and Wilson told him about finding Rudy’s fingerprints on Todd Austin’s toy. He heard an audible gasp on the other end of the phone.
“I’m not sure,” said the squad commander, “but I think Rudy Strauss was murdered.”
“What?”
“About six weeks ago we found the badly decomposed body of a thirty, thirty-five-year-old male at a house on Jones Street. Turns out the house belonged to one George Strauss, whose nephew, Rudy or Randy Strauss, had been missing for a few months. I bet if you send me a copy of the fingerprints there’ll be a match.”
“I’ll send them to you. Did the medical examiner take any photographs of the corpse?”
“Yeah, but it’s not a pretty sight.”
“Send them. I’ve got some good mug shots of Strauss. Maybe someone will be able to give a positive ID.”
“You think he kidnapped the Austin kid?”
“Could be. But you’ve got your own crime to solve.”
“I do?”
Wilson couldn’t believe how dense the man was. “Yeah. You have to find out who killed Strauss.”
***
When Erich got home that night, Laura told him what had happened that morning. She was noticeably upset about the fact that Rudy Strauss, a known criminal, seemed to have some connection to her aunt.
Erich was bothered by something else. He picked up the phone and dialed the second precinct. Within seconds Wilson picked up the phone.
“What the hell are you doing sending Laura to do a cop’s job?” Erich demanded. “Are you trying to get her killed?”
“Take it easy, Muller. We figured if someone came in and caught her she’d be able to make up some excuse about why she was there. We had a man watching the place the whole time.”
“You’re a liar.”
“Think what you want.” Wilson glanced down at the post mortem photographs of Rudy Strauss. “That girl has more guts than you do. Tell her again that I said she did a great job.”
Erich’s voice rose. “Don’t you dare use her again, do you hear?”
He slammed the phone down and turned around, coming face to face with a furious Laura. She clutched a can of spaghetti sauce in one hand and looked as if she wanted to throw it at him.
“Why did you have to make such a big deal out of it?”
“Because it is a big deal, that’s why. Wilson did a stupid thing, putting you in danger that way.”
“I wasn’t in any danger. I’d never have taken Rachel with me if I thought I was. Harry knew Virginia had given me keys to the place and if he’d found me there I already had an excuse made up.”
“The baby was with you?”
“Yes, she was. And we both did fine. You have to start trusting that I know what I’m doing.”
Erich squeezed his hands against his head and held them there for a moment before lowering them and forcing himself to relax. “I’m sorry, Laura. It’s just that I love you and Rachel so much I can’t stand the thought—” He took her hand. “I’m sorry. Really. So what did you find out?”
“It looks like Rudy Strauss was murdered. Wilson is trying to make a positive ID. The worst part is that he had some connection to Virginia. Because of that, we have to go to London as soon as we can. I want Virginia to tell me what she knows about Rudy and about Todd’s kidnapping, if anything. And Erich, when we’re through with all this, if you were right all along, you can go ahead and say ‘I told you so’.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Four days later they left for London. Erich managed to get a month’s leave of absence by making the excuse that he was chasing down some important leads in the Austin kidnapping and by promising the Herald Tribune daily updates. Both he and Laura were brokenhearted about having to leave Rachel at home, but chasing down a kidnapper’s accomplice wasn’t the sort of thing a six-month-old baby could be part of. Besides, Laura knew Rachel would be safe in Iris Nickerson’s care. As an added security measure, Ben Wilson assigned cops to guard Willow Pond twenty-four hours a day.
Their plane landed at just after 3:00 in the afternoon and a taxi dropped them off at their hotel. The flight had been long and bumpy and they both were exhausted, but Laura didn’t want to waste any time. She wanted to see her aunt immediately.
They left their suitcases at the hotel and settled into another of London’s spacious taxis, then headed to Kingsley’s. She had wanted to call Virginia and tell her they were coming, but Erich didn’t think it was a good idea to give her advance notice.
The door was unlocked. When they went inside they saw Virginia speaking to a man they didn’t recognize. She turned and glanced at them, but didn’t seem to recognize them. She turned back and went behind the bar where she began counting bottles. When they approached the bar, she looked at them again. This time her eyes widened with surprise.
“I thought my eyes were fooling me,” she said, smiling. “But it really is you. Didn’t you get enough of rainy London when you were here before?”
Her voice didn’t sound right. ‘Guarded’ was the word Laura would have chosen. She felt suddenly uncomfortable in front of the woman who had raised her. The one woman she had always trusted above everyone else. But there was no way to avoid this conversation.
“We need to talk about Rudy Strauss,” Laura said bluntly.
Virginia couldn’t look at her, and Laura feared what that meant. She was relieved when Erich took her hand and told Virginia they needed privacy. Virginia nodded shortly and led them to her office. Laura had never seen her aunt look apprehensive before. It was a disturbing thing to see. It didn’t last long, however. By the time they’d walked into her office, Virginia was her old self: calm, confident and serene.
“Tell us what you know about Strauss,” Laura said.
Virginia’s brow creased and she rolled her eyes toward the ceiling as if trying to remember. “Rudy Strauss. The name’s sort of familiar,” she said, returning her gaze to Laura’s, “but I don’t know who he is.”
Erich removed his notepad from his jacket pocket and jotted a few things down. Virginia glared at him. “What is this? Are you here to interview me, Mr. Muller?”
Erich glanced up at her but kept writing. “Can you tell us why you had a personnel file on Strauss at Bacchanal?”
She shrugged. “He must have applied for a job there.” She turned to Laura, frowning. “I’m curious about how he found that information.”
“Actually, he didn’t. I did,” Laura said.
Before Virginia could object, they told her about finding Todd’s sock and toy mouse on Willow Pond, and about the matching fingerprints. Then they told her about the corpse found on Jones Street in San Francisco and Wilson’s belief that it was Rudy.
Virginia clicked her tongue dismissively. “Wilson has no idea what he’s doing. It could be anyone.”
“The age and size fit the description we have of Strauss.”
“Did you ever meet him?” Laura asked.
The phone rang, but Virginia made no move to answer. “Whoever that is can call back. Did I meet him? I don’t know if I ever did. I might have, but if I did I don’t remember him. Maybe Harry would know. Have you spoken to him?”
Laura nodded, feeling increasingly uneasy. “Yes. He told us he had no idea who he was.”