and you know what receptionists are like, not always willing to break in.”
Like a granite boulder settling into a riverbed, his face told me he was not to be moved. How to get around this?
“Gip, do you have security in the building? They could go up with me.”
“We only have a service on call. Look, since I know you I can be a little flexible. Our maintenance guy is here fixing the air conditioning. Let me get him to accompany you.” He spoke into his cellphone and made the request.
“Thanks. Laurel’s been so upset about Hal it’s no surprise she’s forgetful.”
“A very sad business. I watched him grow up.”
“I know. It’s been hard on all of us.”
The elevator pinged and the maintenance man leaned out and waved. I trotted over and got inside. Thankfully, I remembered the penthouse entrance code.
A flurry of nerves hit me when we walked in. I thought I’d seen Laurel toying with the ring in the study off the family room, but I couldn’t be positive. The view out the French doors showed the plates and soggy dinner things still sitting on the terrace table.
“What a mess,” the maintenance man said when we entered the study.
It looked like it had been hit by a force-five hurricane—files and photos dumped all over the floor. Her laptop was gone.
He gave me a suspicious look. “What’s happened here?”
I shrugged. I didn’t have to manufacture a look of shock; I was as surprised as he. “I don’t know. She was probably getting ready to sort through this stuff when something else came up.”
He didn’t seem convinced. “I’m going to have to call this in.” He took his pager off his belt and punched in some numbers.
I sensed my opportunity to find the ring slipping away. I thought I’d seen it in the study, but where? I opened the desk drawers, thinking Laurel might have put it away. Memo pads, paper clips, things like that—but no ring. And then a rare piece of good luck—sitting on a recessed bookshelf over the desk were a man’s watch and wallet, and beside them, Hal’s ring.
I heard the chirp of the maintenance man’s cell. In the few seconds he turned his attention away to answer, I pretended to reach for a book, then grabbed the ring and slipped it on my index finger. I bent down and rooted among the file folders on the floor, found one labeled Property Administration, and searched through it. I drew out an invoice for property taxes and straightened up. “This is it. This is what Laurel wanted.”
The man held out his phone. “Gip wants to talk to you.”
“Hi, Gip. Listen, everything’s okay. There’s a wallet and watch on the bookshelf in here. They weren’t taken, so I don’t think you need to worry about a robbery. It’s probably just a case of lax housekeeping. She’s not the most domestic person. I’ll ask Laurel to talk to you about it when she comes back.”
I handed the phone back to the maintenance guy. He spoke to Gip, terminated the call, and looked at me. “Okay. He says to leave it for now. He’ll make out a report for the householder.”
Before I left the building Gip noted the document I’d taken. I felt ecstatic about getting the ring, like a great weight had just rolled off my back.
My hands were bigger than Hal’s and his ring was so tight I couldn’t get it all the way down my finger. It was a heavy, clunky piece, and I made my left hand into a fist to ensure it didn’t fall off. The minute I got a safe distance away from the building I took it off. A basketball game was in play on the West Fourth Street courts; a sweaty, raucous crowd of fans bunched along the wire-mesh fence. I’d spent many happy times at the Cage watching the tough, fast-moving action. I drifted over.
I found an empty spot at the end of the fence and turned my attention to the ring. It looked old, with elaborate designs worked into the gold frame encircling the solitaire. I thought it was an antique, possibly a Victorian copy of an ancient Celtic poison ring. The goldsmith’s stamp on the inside of the band confirmed this—a mark not seen on contemporary rings. The diamond winked in the sun as if Mina’s spirit lived on inside it. It creeped me out.
Thinking it might be a hinge, I put pressure on some scroll-work at the crown of the ring. I heard a faint click and nudged the face of the ring outward. A tiny piece of folded paper lay in the pocket underneath. I unfolded it with shaking hands.
Hal’s spidery writing stood out in blue ink:
I’d been right yesterday. I’d been so close! Hal had hidden the engraving in the cemetery mausoleum beside the Church of the Intercession after all. Even though Mina hadn’t been buried there, Hal would have still had legal access to it any time he wanted.
Although I’d narrowly missed the engraving yesterday, finding the ring gave me a measure of peace. My best guess was that the Alchemy group had trashed Laurel’s study hunting for the engraving or new information leading to it. Probably because she told them to look for it there. Not knowing the answer herself, but hoping to buy some time, she’d tossed them a red herring. A clever detour on her part. That also meant she was not too far gone to think rationally. My cell showed 11:48 A.M. Nine hours left to free her.
I stopped in at Garber’s Hardware and bought a penlight and a battery-powered hacksaw to cut the padlock. The hacksaw was only about two hand lengths long and therefore easy to conceal. I dumped my clothes into a trash can to make room in my bag for the engraving. Taking another look around to check for Eris or her people, I flagged a cab.
Inside the cemetery I scanned the grounds for the caretaker, but there was no sign of him. There wasn’t a soul to be seen. Luck might be on my side for once. I walked straight up to the unnamed mausoleum, assuming this had to be the Janssen Tomb by default. When I tugged the padlock it fell off. The hasp had been cleanly cut through. The doors swung open easily, unimpeded by dirt or debris, another sign someone had been here before me.
I pocketed the padlock and once inside, pulled the doors shut. I flicked on my penlight and swept it across the dim interior. Pale centipedes and spiders dashed back into the dark corners, escaping from the painful flare of my light. Stone coffins lay against each of the side walls, one with its lid shoved aside. My light glanced off a jumble of brownish bones, not laid out in the usual symmetrical form. Cool in this tomb and damp. Aside from the bones and a net of cobwebs nothing else was there. The second coffin held an intact, undisturbed skeleton. The engraving was gone.
I felt numb with despair, the last hope I had of freeing Laurel swept away.
As I emerged from the tomb, a voice pierced the air. “Just one minute. You were here yesterday. I thought I made myself clear then.” The caretaker walked down the rise behind the mausoleum, no friendly smile on his face this time.
Angling my body so he couldn’t see the missing padlock, I said, “After you directed me to the columbarium I learned they had no record of my great-aunt’s name. So I came back here, where my cousin had originally said to look.”
“A little odd since this particular mausoleum isn’t even identified.”
“I thought there may have been some indication, something I’d missed.”
“And you conveniently forgot you’re not supposed to be in here.”
“Something like that.”
He eyed me for a few seconds. “What is it with you people? I had to throw someone else out early this morning. Some tourist with a backpack. Nobody can read I guess.”
“What did he look like?”
“A bit like you but shorter and skinnier. Dark hair.”
“Did he have an accent?”
“Yes, but his English was good.”
I racked my brains trying to understand how Tomas had figured this out. He said he’d taken some courses at Columbia, so it was possible he’d solved the anagram. Except the ring was intact and in my possession. He didn’t have the benefit of Hal’s final clue. Could it have been my conversation last night when I’d opened up to Ari? I’d told him about my visit to the cemetery. Had he passed that along to his brother? He must have. I knew in my gut that I couldn’t trust Tomas.
