Brooklyn Secrets by Triss Stein Read Free Book Online

around, until a worker came to say, “Would you like a private table? Is this one of your grandchildren?”
    â€œOh, no, she’s…she’s a friend. Yes, a private table. We want to talk. I guess.
    â€œWe have dairy at lunch, and meat at dinner,” she explained to me. “Not that I care. I left all those kosher rules behind in my wild days.” She sighed. “And we never have shrimp here. Or lobster. I miss it.”
    Her thoughts seemed elsewhere, perhaps on seafood, until I took out my pictures.
    â€œIs this your brother?”
    â€œThat is very blurry. I have my magnifying glass in my bag.” She handed it to me. “Here, you look for it.”
    When found, she stared for a while, as I pulled up the photos on the laptop. Her eyes filled with tears.
    â€œYes, it’s Frank. My darling brother.”
    I showed her the Eagle photo. “Oh, yes, that’s him. But who is he with? I can’t read this.”
    I enlarged it and she read the caption out loud. “Alleged gangsters? Is that what it says? Then it can’t be him. He never associated with that type of person.” She stared at me. “Never heard of them in my life.”
    Lunch came just then, giving me a break to think about what I was going to do. She did certainly seem very tired, or ill. She certainly wasn’t the outspoken firecracker of my earlier visit.
    She concentrated on her food, occasionally stopping to say, “Now this is very good,” and “I hope you are enjoying your meal. There might be ice cream for dessert, you know.”
    Lunch seemed to perk her up. She turned to me and said clearly, “Now what can I do for you, my dear? Let’s move to the lounge where we can talk.”
    We moved, very slowly, and finally were settled on a sofa. “You asked me to keep my eyes open for any information about your brother?”
    â€œYes, of course I did. And did you find anything?”
    I had showed her my findings not half an hour ago. I showed them again. “I don’t know if you see the problem here.” And I didn’t know quite how to say it, either. I could not bring myself to say, Based on what is here, nothing you told me is true. “Do you recognize any of these names now?”
    She looked at them again. A light seemed to go on. “Yes, that’s my dear brother. Of course it is. And these men?” She stopped, thought. “They are crooks, aren’t they? Gangsters?” She shook her head. “Impossible. This is impossible. They were not his kind of friend at all. I told you. He was a hero. Dig harder and you’ll find out. I know you will.”
    I started to say something, but she held her hand up and went right on.
    â€œHe was a wonderful brother. He helped me with my homework and brought me little treats and even, sometimes, played tag in the street with me and my friends. He took me to the park. Whatever parenting I got, whatever affection, came from him. So don’t tell me…don’t tell me…. just find out what happened to him. That’s all.”
    â€œWhat if I find things you don’t want to know?” It was a hard question to ask when she looked so sad, yet hopeful, like a small child. “Should I just keep quiet about them?”
    She turned to me with a fierce expression, much more like the Lillian I had first met. “What a shocking thing for a scholar to ask! We academics look the facts in the eye. I can take it.” She smiled. “Besides, I know he was a hero and you will, too. So there!”
    So there, indeed. That sounded a lot like marching orders to me.
    A soft-voiced woman in a uniform came up to us. “Why, Ms. Kravitz, what are you doing here? It’s time for your meds. Would you like ice cream to get them down?”
    â€œAh, my keeper is here.” To her, Lil said, “Is there vanilla-fudge?”
    â€œYou know there is.”
    â€œYes, if there’s