an organized underworld cabal called the Seven Sisters. It wasn’t like that.”
“So what was it like?”
“My people were Jewish immigrants who arrived at Ellis Island with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. They struggled and fought and did whatever they had to do to get by-even if that meant skirting the law now and then.”
“Times were hard in those days,” Bertha chimed in. “Believe me, I know. My father was a dumb Polack who worked himself to death in the steel mills before he was forty. You’re talking about poor people. Uneducated people who barely spoke the language. You’re talking about the Great Depression and two world wars. Rough neighborhoods. Rough justice. Nobody looking out for you but your own kind. Everybody’s family had to fight to survive.”
“Mine ran small neighborhood businesses on the Lower East Side,” Beth said. “Did they buy merchandise off of the black market? Yes. They did business with thieves of the lowest sort. Did they take bets and run numbers? Sure they did. If you owned any kind of a business-a candy store, a corner bar-that was expected of you. Did they get involved with loan sharks? You bet. There was no such thing as a fancy savings and loan for those people. Just an underground economy that operated by its own rules. Same as it still does to this day. You’ve been in one of those neighborhood bodegas in Harlem, haven’t you, Lieutenant?”
“A million,” Very grunted.
“Where do you think they get their cigarettes and razor blades-from reputable wholesalers? They buy them on the cheap from people who steal them for a living. Does that make them a part of a vast criminal conspiracy? No. They’re just trying to get by-and hoping for a better life for their children. Just like I wanted for Kenny. After Sy got sent to prison I filed for a divorce. Went to work at Bloomingdale’s because it paid better than the ad agency did. I met Irwin on a blind date. We used to joke about that-meeting an eye doctor on a blind date. Irwin was no George Clooney. But he was kind and decent and he came home every night. We were happy together.”
“Meanwhile,” Very put in, “you were shtupping Vinnie behind his back.”
“You still have a lot to learn about life, young man,” Bertha said reproachfully. “It’s much, much more of a trade-off than you realize. Just look at my situation. I was married to the dullest man on earth for forty-four years. Guy Peck was also a perfectly dreadful lover. He had zero appreciation of my needs. The Human Broomstick, I used to call him. And yet he gave me everything else I could ever want. So I was a good, dutiful wife to him-even though not a day went by when I didn’t think about Saul. I still do. I still remember the cologne Saul wore. If I get the slightest whiff of anything even remotely like it I get weak in the knees. And that man has been dead for seventy years.”
Beth studied Romaine Very curiously. “Why are you here, Lieutenant?”
“Augie Donatelli was my friend. I told you.”
“So you did. But there’s more to it than that. Why are you so interested in my family’s history?”
“I have a long-standing personal interest in the Seven Sisters. That’s why Dawgie kept me filled in about you.”
“What sort of a long-standing personal interest?”
The lieutenant cleared his throat. “It has to do with my dad, okay? He shortened his last name when he struck out on his own. That’s how it came to be Very.”
“What was it originally?”
“Verichenko,” he answered, gazing at her.
Beth’s eyes widened. “Thelma Kudlach married a Verichenko. Manny, I believe. So that makes you…”
“Thelma’s great-great-grandson. You and I are cousins, Mrs. Breslauer. I’m one of the family. And I know the real deal. I know that my grandmother started working the boardwalk in Atlantic City when she was five years old. And my grandfather picked pockets for a living-when he wasn’t in jail. So don’t try to tell me your family was just like everyone else’s. And don’t tell me the Seven Sisters is some urban legend. I know better, got it?”
Beth didn’t say a word. No one did. There was only stunned silence.
Until Mitch said, “Beth, how did you and Bertha happen to hook up?”
Beth didn’t respond. Just reached for her iced tea and took a sip, her hand trembling slightly.
“It was my idea,” Bertha spoke up. “My attorney tracked her down for me. I wanted to meet her. Her grandfather was the great love of my life, after all. We got together for lunch in the city one day and became friends. Went shopping together. Took in the occasional matinee. I still enjoy a good musical-not that these girls today can dance. They’re as graceful as Clydesdales. After Beth sold her place in Scarsdale she was looking to buy a condo out this way. I let her know when a unit became available here.”
Very leafed through Augie’s file once more. “Before he died, Mrs. Breslauer, your late husband lost a ton of money in the subprime housing meltdown. You were forced to sell that house in Scarsdale for significantly less than what it had been assessed at two years earlier.”
“I wasn’t forced to sell it.” Beth was growing testy now. “I chose to. I got nearly two million dollars for the place, free and clear. And Irwin’s investment portfolio still amounted to more than a half-million in good, solid stocks and bonds. And he’d taken out a substantial life insurance policy. My investment advisor has set me up so that I can live very comfortably without touching so much as one penny of the principal. Take it from me, Lieutenant. I don’t need to pick anyone’s pockets.”
“Would it surprise you if I said Dawgie thought otherwise?”
“Nothing you can say about that man would surprise me.”
“He tailed you and Vinnie to the Mohegan Sun. Were you aware of that?”
Beth made a face. “Of course. I spotted him right off.”
“And how did you feel about it?”
“I was annoyed, naturally. But Augie liked to annoy me. Took delight in it, in fact.”
“He thought you and Vinnie were working the place,” Very explained. “Lifting handbags, jewelry and the like.”
“Don’t be absurd. We frequent the Mohegan Sun because Vincent enjoys the blackjack tables. Gambling happens to be legal there, you know. I get a spa treatment. We have a nice meal together. Go upstairs to our room and make love. He likes to keep the lights on. I like to be on top. Would you care for any more dirty details, Lieutenant Very?”
“No,” he answered abruptly. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“Then kindly tell me why my personal life is any of your damned business.”
“Because Dawgie was following you and now he’s dead.”
“You sound as if you believe there’s a connection.”
“Maybe there is. Vinnie does know people.”
“You’re thinking he put out a contract on Augie? Don’t make me laugh. Vincent runs a hair salon. He’s a family man.”
“Yeah, the Albanese family. I’ve got your boy’s criminal arrest record right here.” Very stabbed the file folder with his finger. “Vinnie’s been in the system since he boosted his first car when he was sixteen. He took a pop for breaking and entering one year later. Followed by armed assault. Followed by attempted extortion. Followed by… should I go on?”
“That’s not necessary…” Beth answered faintly.
“I’ll have to talk to him as soon I get back to the city. Hear his version of where you two were last night.”
“Go right ahead. At his salon, if you please. Not his home. He’ll confirm everything I’ve said. Everything.” Brave words. Except Beth didn’t come off sounding brave. She sounded deflated. And her color wasn’t very good all of a sudden. It was gray like putty. “May I pour you more iced tea, Lieutenant?”
“No, thanks. We’re done here.”
She managed a smile at Mitch. “I’ll tell Kenny that you stopped by. He’ll be sorry he missed you.”
“Likewise. Could you give him a message for me?”
“Of course, dear. What is it?”
“Tell him I said: ‘Chance is but a fool’s name for fate.’ ”
“What the hell’s that mean?” Very demanded as they started down the hallway toward the back door of the Captain Chadwick House. “ ‘Chance is but a fool’s name for fate?’ That some kind of a code?”
“It’s a line from a Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers movie called The Gay Divorcee. Not that Kenny will guess it in
