“The one who’s been sleeping with our resident trooper.”
“We’re good friends.”
“You’re a lot more than that, young man,” Bertha said sternly. “But I’d never make you two for a match. Not in a million years.” Now she turned her gaze on Very. “And who is this handsome devil?”
“He’s Lieutenant Very of the NYPD,” Beth said. “A friend of Mr. Donatelli’s.”
“What does he want?”
“We’re about to find out, Bertha.”
Beth handed them their iced teas. They sat in the wicker chairs facing the love seat. Beth settled next to Bertha, who took a thirsty gulp of her own iced tea, smacking her lips. Mitch suspected hers was high octane. She liked her vodka, word had it.
Very jumped right in: “Mrs. Breslauer, has Sergeant Snipes questioned you yet about your whereabouts at the time of the murder?”
Beth blinked at him. “Why, no. Why would she?”
“Because she knows that you slipped out of here on foot shortly before it happened. You’re unaccounted for, ma’am.”
Beth shot a sharp glance at Mitch before she turned back to Very, stiffening slightly. “You said you’re not here in an official capacity.”
“Correct.”
“So I’m under no obligation to answer you.”
“Also correct. But if I were you, I’d be straight with me. It’s the smart move.”
“Why is that, Lieutenant Very?”
“Because whatever you say to her will become part of an official state police investigation. If you talk to me I may be able to keep it under wraps.”
“You make it sound as if I have something to keep under wraps.”
“Only because you do. You and I both know Dawgie wasn’t stalking you. He was tailing you.” Very opened the file folder and spread Augie’s surveillance photos out on the coffee table before her. “You and your boy Vinnie.”
Beth studied the photos, swallowing. “So…?”
“So were you and Vinnie together last evening? Is that why you slipped out?”
Beth took a dainty sip of her iced tea. A blue vein pulsed slightly in her forehead. Otherwise, she gave every outward appearance of being calm. “Vincent picked me up down the block at nine o’clock. We caught Linda Ronstadt’s second show at the Mohegan Sun. Ate a late supper at the Lobster Shack. Gambled a bit, then went up to our room. We left there at about four a.m. Vincent dropped me off here and kept on going so he could attend morning mass with his family in Great Neck.”
Very flipped through some notes in the file. “According to Dawgie, Vinnie never spends the night here. He’s never even been here.”
“That was at my suggestion,” Bertha interjected. “People in Dorset can be obsessively nosy when it comes to the love lives of their neighbors. Particularly when those neighbors are attractive single women. Maddee Farrell, for one, is a consummate busybody. I told Beth that if she wished to have any privacy, she would have to behave discreetly. So if you wish to blame anyone for her ‘slipping out,’ as you put it, then blame me.”
“Why are we talking about ‘blame’ here, Bertha?” Beth’s voice had an edge of defiance in it now. “I don’t owe this man or anyone else an explanation for how I choose to live my life. Frankly, I resent the fact that we’re even having this conversation.”
Very said nothing to that. Just barreled in. “Does Kenny know about Vinnie? Or have you been hiding your affair from him, too?”
Beth stared at him coldly. “You’re not a very nice person, are you?”
Very said nothing to that either. Just stared right back at her. The man was no lamb chop-not that Mitch had thought for one second that he was.
“It so happens that Kenny doesn’t know about Vincent,” she conceded, exhaling slowly. “I was married to Irwin when we first became involved. I wasn’t particularly proud of myself. But I couldn’t help it. I was in love with Vincent. I still am. We’re incredibly happy together.”
“Just to be clear about this-were you two an item back when Kenny’s father was in prison?”
Beth lowered her eyes. “So you know about Sy.”
“I know all about your grandfather, too.” Very turned his gaze on Bertha. “I believe you were acquainted with Saul Pincus, weren’t you, Mrs. Peck?”
Bertha took another thirsty gulp of her iced tea. “You believe right, young man. I was all of nineteen years old. Still had stars in my eyes. And, God, I was mad for Saul,” she recalled, her small, wrinkled face glowing. “Our lovemaking was so intense I would nearly faint. It was never, ever like that with anyone else. Certainly not with my husband, Guy. But our love… Saul and I weren’t meant to be. He died so young. It was very sudden.”
“Yeah, he got suddenly shot in Lindy’s.”
“The poor dear was an innocent bystander to some awful gang squabble. He was just sitting there over a bowl of soup, minding his own business, when a stray bullet caught him right in the forehead.” Bertha shook her head sadly. “The city was a dangerous place in those days.”
Very let out a laugh. “Who do you think you’re fooling, Mrs. Peck? Saul Pincus was rubbed out. The man was a big-time racketeer.”
“That is a load of hooey,” she said indignantly. “Saul was in the fur trade.”
“I see. And what about the police case files and newspaper stories-are you telling me they’re nothing but lies?”
“All lies. You shouldn’t go by what the police or the papers say, young man. They never know the real truth about anything. Remember that in the future-assuming you have a future. You’re awfully darned mouthy,” she pointed out, her big blue eyes glittering at him. “Although you’re obviously accustomed to getting away with it. You good lookers with your thick, wavy hair and bedroom eyes always do, don’t you?”
Very shifted in his chair, looking slightly queasy. Evidently he wasn’t used to getting hit on by a babe who was pushing ninety. The man was new to Dorset, after all. He turned his attention back to Beth now. “Mrs. Breslauer, have you ever heard of the Seven Sisters?”
Beth smiled at him indulgently. “Don’t tell me you came here to talk about that old fairy tale.”
“So it’s a fairy tale?”
“More of an urban legend, like those stories you hear about werewolves living in the subway tunnels.”
“In that case, why don’t you tell me a little bit about your family?”
“Certainly. My mom and dad were fabric wholesalers in the garment district for more than thirty years. They’re both gone now, I’m sorry to say. Mom’s sister, Sadie, was a seamstress. And her husband, my Uncle Izzy, repaired transmissions at a garage in Long Island City. Dad’s brother, my Uncle Nathan, drove a cab…”
“Are you having a good time with this, Mrs. Breslauer?” Very glowered across the coffee table at her. “Your mother, Estelle, served two separate sentences for receiving stolen property. And your father, Sam, was a bookmaker. Not a big-time operator like his father, Saul, but he served time. So did your Uncle Nathan, your Uncle Izzy and your Aunt Sadie. I have their criminal histories right here. So stop disrespecting me, will you?”
Beth sat quite still for a moment, her plump lips pursed, manicured hands folded primly in her lap. Then she glanced at Mitch, smiling faintly, before she said, “They didn’t want that life for me. I was the pretty princess. Special. And so smart. I graduated magna cum laude from Hunter College. Went to work at an ad agency on Madison Avenue. Married a reputable, hardworking young man. Sy was holding down a nine-to-five job in an office supplies store and going to accounting school at night. He got his accounting degree, too. We had plans. We had dreams. We had such a wonderful future all…” She broke off, her dark eyes puddling with tears. “Except it turned out I wasn’t so smart. It wasn’t until months after Kenny was born that I found out Sy was mixed up in my Uncle Izzy’s bookmaking operation. I can’t begin to tell you what a body blow that was. I was so ashamed. When Sy got arrested I hid the truth from Kenny. I didn’t want him to know. I was terrified that he’d get drawn into that life himself. It has its allure, believe me. Particularly when you’re young.” Beth reached for her iced tea and took a sip. “I married Irwin to get Kenny away from it once and for all. Irwin never knew a thing about it. And Kenny still doesn’t have a clue.” She gazed down into her glass, breathing in and out. “But I must say, Lieutenant Very, that you’re making my family out to be much more diabolical than they actually were. All of that fanciful nonsense about
