out. He could lose his job over this. He told me that he made a deal with you to let you have these parties and the butler classes in this apartment. If he goes, I doubt you’ll find another manager who is so agreeable. And if this place closes down, you’re really out of luck.”
Lydia stared at her long, red fingernails. Finally she looked up. “Regan, I believe that everyone has a soul mate out there. It is my journey in life to help people find that special someone…?”
Oh, brother, Regan thought. As long as they pay you.
“I invite people into my home to open their hearts. To open their souls. To allow a little love and light into their consciousness, which was dark, dark, dark…”
“The list, Lydia?”
“I was getting to that.” Lydia cleared her throat. “Because confidentiality is a big part of my business-you know people like to tell stories about how they met their soul mate on a crowded train… it’s rarely true. Anyway, what I am willing to do is invite everyone back here tonight. It’ll be a free party. I’ll tell them it’s because of all the excitement last night. You can talk to them at the party. It won’t seem so much like you think one of them is guilty.”
“Will people be available to come on such short notice?”
“If it’s free, believe me they’ll come. At least for a drink.”
“What if someone can’t make it?”
“Then I’ll give you their name.”
Regan stood up. “All right, Lydia. Tonight then. I understand your butler had his students serving at the party. Can you arrange for them to all be here as well?”
Lydia jumped up from the couch and stretched out her arms. “We’ll re-create the evening.”
“Let’s hope it’s not a complete reenactment.”
Lydia laughed merrily.
“I’ll be in and out today. Let me know how many of the group you can round up.”
Lydia wiggled her fingers. “I’m ready to start dialing for dates.”
13
Georgette Hughes and Blaise Bowden sat in glum silence as they sipped their morning coffee at the tiny table in their dingy rented room on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.
“I’m sorry!” she blurted.
“I didn’t say anything,” he growled.
On display in front of them were the four glass stones that Nat had removed from Dolly and Bah-Bah’s eye sockets.
“I can’t understand it,” Georgette whined. She was a short, ample-bosomed woman with long brown hair streaked with blond highlights who had a penchant for strong-smelling perfume and big earrings. Her brown eyes could display warmth, but her face could turn wicked in an instant. “I saw the diamonds the other night. When I rang the bell, Nat was surprised to see me. He had all the jewelry out. I’m telling you, the four diamonds were there.”
Blaise picked up the four glass stones and threw them on the floor. “You could buy these in the five-and-ten.” He was a large man, tall, sandy-haired, attractive and smooth, yet underneath it all, not as sly as Georgette. Georgette’s sister had dubbed him “the cardboard box.” But for Georgette he was the perfect match. They were partners in crime. Drifters. Opportunists. Two con artists who’d been together for six years, ripping people off all over the country. “I’m stuck in that idiotic butler class for another couple of weeks. I hate it.”
“Do you think those singles parties I go to faithfully are any treat? How many more times can I stand that horrible small talk? And how about all the time I spent wooing old Nat? He was a nice man, but he didn’t exactly ring my bell. And now he’s dead and I’ve got nothing to show for it.”
Blaise stood up. “Look at this dingy dump. We haven’t had a score in so long it’s pathetic. You should have taken some of his wife’s jewelry.”
“I thought I had four diamonds worth millions, and besides, I happened to be carrying a very small purse. I went in to his apartment when I heard the gossip about him selling the diamonds. I was frantic. Did I
Judith Miller, Tracie Peterson
Lafcadio Hearn, Francis Davis
Jonathan Strahan [Editor]