Seven Deadly Samovars (12 page)

Read Seven Deadly Samovars Online

Authors: Morgan St James and Phyllice Bradner

Tags: #Mystery

“Sorry, Mom, this doesn’t include you. Goldie and I will leave at five in the morning. The drive takes about two hours. She’ll drive and I’ll sleep. And you two will be safely snuggled in your comfy hotel beds.”

“Darn tootin’ we will,” said Sterling.

“But you girls might need a little help,” Flossie protested.

“No way, Mom, we’re just going to make sure they were on that ship. After that, we plan to follow them and get a license number or something, so we won’t need any help. Besides, you two need to save all your energy for your performance and the banquet.”

Flossie slumped in her chair and fiddled with her dessert. “So I guess we’re grounded…A couple of old shirts hung out to dry.”

“It’s okay with me,” Sterling said, “I’ll hang out around here anytime. Besides, I’m not getting up at five o’clock to go on some wild Russian goose chase.”

As they rode the elevator up to their respective rooms, Goldie vowed to try Mrs. Wurlitzer one more time, Godiva groused about having to work on a column before bed, and Flossie said she was ready to hit the hay. Sterling nodded off in the elevator and Flossie poked him in the ribs when they reached their floor.

* * * *

Godiva opened the e-mail from Angel and skimmed through several cries for help until one caught her eye.

 

Dear G.O.D.,

I’ve been dating Wally for about four months. People have said we look more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend, and now I know why. Last night we started talking about our youth and showed each other pictures of our parents. Omigod…turns out we both have the same father. Mom always said Dad was a regular Romeo, but it turns out he led a double life. What should I do?”

—-In Love With My Brother

 

Godiva pushed back in her chair trying to come up with a solution. This one wasn’t easy. Finally, she started to tap out an answer.

 

Dear In Love,

I’m sorry but this one doesn’t have a fairytale ending. I think you and Wally have to face the music and be happy you’ve found each other as brother and sister. There are lots of other fish in the sea…but if you live in a small pond, you better move up-river to do your fishing. For all you know, your dad may have romanced every woman in town.

—-G.O.D

 

Godiva shut down the laptop and climbed into bed feeling a bit sorry for poor
In Love With My Brother
. It seemed like only moments had passed when the jangling phone woke her up. A mechanical voice chirped, “Good morning. This is the wake up call you requested.”

She struggled into her clothes, first putting her Donna Karan T-shirt on inside out and backwards. She was almost too tired to dab on a little makeup, but when she looked in the mirror she changed her mind and dragged out the cosmetic bag. Glancing out the window she saw there was a light drizzle, but she grabbed a pair of sunglasses anyway to cover her half-open eyes.

The sisters both opened their doors the same time…Goldie as perky as a sunflower on a summer day and Godiva dragging her tail. They headed down the hall and stopped short. Flossie and Sterling stood in front of the elegant elevator doors.

“It’s about time.” Flossie stood there tapping her foot. “We’ve been here for ten minutes waiting for you, haven’t we Sterling?”

Sterling threw his hands in the air. “Sorry, girls. It was all her idea. I wanted to sleep in but she came banging on my door. You know your mother…stubborn as a mule.”

During the drive to Bellingham, while Godiva snored in the seat beside her, Goldie filled the oldsters in on more of their mission. They sat in the back seat studying the copies of Maurice Flambeau’s drawings.

Flossie took off her glasses and looked closely at the sketches. “So these are the guys we’re looking for?”

“Yeah, Mom,” Goldie answered. “The first sketch is the Dumkovsky brothers; the second one is what they look like wearing women’s clothes.”

Sterling pointed at the first drawing. “Geez, I’d hate to meet these ugly mugs in a dark alley.” Then he looked at the other sketch. “But it’d be even worse to meet these women in the daylight.”

“Yeah,” Flossie squeaked, “they look pretty rough. Betcha I could spot them anywhere.”

They got to the ferry terminal about ten minutes before the
Columbia
docked. The place was jam-packed and it was hard to see much. They elbowed their way through the crowd for a better look at the disembarking passengers.

Flossie inched her way over to Goldie and held the drawing of the disguised Russians under her nose as if it were a secret CIA document. She said in a stage whisper, “There they are. Don’t look right away, but it’s those two big women schlepping those duffel bags. No one else could look that ugly.”

Clouds darkened the sky and the dock was really crowded, but in the end they all agreed it was definitely the Dumkovskys. Goldie ran to the parking lot to pull the car around while the others trailed behind the slow-walking pair. She pulled up just as the two big women got in line to hail a cab.

Godiva and the oldsters piled in. “Follow that cab!” said Sterling in a voice reminiscent of James Cagney in an old gangster movie.

Minutes later they were trailing the yellow taxi at a discreet distance. Everything seemed fine until just past Everett when the cab turned east heading toward Snohomish. This was not the route to Seattle, where were they going?

It didn’t take long to learn the answer. The cab turned onto a side road and after a mile or so it stopped in front of a gate. A tastefully lettered sign over the entry said:
Full Monty Mountain Resort – A Clothing Optional Retreat
. Flossie squinted at the sign. “Clothing optional? What’s that mean?”

Godiva let out a big sigh. “It’s a nudist colony, Mom. I think we might have made a dreadful mistake.”


Oy vey
! You mean those women are going to take off their clothes and romp around naked?” Flossie clucked her tongue.

“What the heck?” said Sterling.

The two women finally got out of the cab. Flossie looked at the drawing of the Dumkovskys in women’s clothes again and then said, “
Oy vey
,” and passed the drawing around. They had followed the wrong people.

“Well ladies,” Sterling said, “it looks like we really barked up the wrong tree. Turn the car around, Goldie, let’s skedaddle fast before they get undressed.”

Flossie moaned. “I’m sorry girls. It’s my fault. They’re just two ugly old ladies, not your Dumkovsky brothers after all. Guess I need new eyeglasses.”

Even though this was a real setback, Goldie couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, right, Mom. They had us all fooled, so don’t feel too bad.”

“Well, at least we know those bums weren’t headed for this nudist colony,” said Sterling, “so what do you suppose happened to them?”

Goldie thought for a moment. “Well Unk. Could be one of two things. Either they got off at Prince Rupert instead of Bellingham, or we got so fixated on those women we missed the real thugs.”

She pulled off on the shoulder and dragged out her cell phone, “Mrs. Wurlitzer still hasn’t called back. Now it’s becoming urgent.” She tried the number again, but it didn’t go through. “Guess I’ll have to wait till we’re back in range. I just hope we reach her before they do.”

Godiva didn’t reply. She was fast asleep.

 

EIGHTEEN

 

Goldie’s cell phone started to play
Chattanooga Choo-Choo.
She reached into her carpetbag and took a quick peek at the screen. Mrs. Wurlitzer was finally calling back. She flipped up the cover. “Goldie speaking. Is this Mrs. Wurlitzer?”

An aggravated voice replied, “Yes, this is Elvira Wurlitzer. Frankly, Ms. Silver, I can’t imagine what could possibly be urgent enough for you to disturb me with so many messages. Surely there wasn’t a problem with my credit card.”

“No, there was no problem with the credit card, Mrs. Wurlitzer, it’s about the samovar I sold you...”

Goldie was cut off before she could finish her sentence. “Well, about that samovar, I might as well tell you, after I unpacked it and put it in the drawing room, I decided I really didn’t like it very much. A bit too gaudy on my Chesterfield sideboard. It is authentic, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is.”

Mrs. Wurlitzer prattled on, “I’m thinking I might ask the museum if they want it for their Russian exhibit and take a donation credit. At any rate, I really can’t talk right now. I’m on my way home from the spa and I don’t like to talk on my cell phone while I’m driving, so please get to the point. Just what was so important?”

Goldie saw a chance to get her hands on one of the wayward teapots. “Ummm…look Mrs. Wurlitzer, if you don’t like the samovar, why don’t I just take it back and credit your card?”

There was a moment of silence. “Are you here in Seattle?”

“Yes, I’m in town for a few days. Would you like me to pick it up? I’d be happy to come and get it in the morning.” She said a silent prayer.

Suspicion crept into Elvira Wurlitzer’s voice. “Well, I don’t know, Ms Silver.” She hesitated, and then sounded cagey. “I was merely thinking about giving it away. I haven’t really decided yet. I’d like some time to think it over. I’ll call you back if I’m interested.”

Goldie heard a click and the connection was broken. She rolled her eyes in a fit of frustration. She would wait a while for Mrs. Wurlitzer to return home and try again.

It was almost time to leave the hotel for the Icons of Illusion banquet. Goldie went next door to Godiva’s suite. When her sister answered the door, she practically pulled Goldie into the room and marched her to the computer. “I just finished reading this e-mail from Angel. I love that girl. When I give her an assignment she’s like a bulldog with a bone. She’s been checking the Vladivostok papers for clues on the warehouse fire and I think she hit pay dirt.” She pushed Goldie down in the desk chair. “Here, Sis, read this.”

Goldie stared at the translated news article attached to Angel’s e-mail.

 

MINSKY & PINSKY WAREHOUSE FIRE

COVERS UP SMUGGLING RING

 

Fedor Zorankovitch, head of Russian Federal Surveillance Service for Compliance with the Law in Mass Communications and Cultural Heritage Protection, states recent Minsky & Pinsky Import/Export fire very suspicious. Investigators believe they were part of crime ring that smuggled Russian treasures to buyers in United States passing through Territory of Alaska.

Officers with the RFSSCLMCCHP have spent last fifteen months tracking long lost national treasures, Seven Stars of Siberia. Seven perfectly matched large Siberian alexandrites set in Tiffany tiara, missing since fall of the Romanovs. These priceless gems very rare. No other matched stones like them in whole world. Early last year RFSSCLMCCHP agents traced stones to Minsky & Pinsky. Warehouse was under surveillance when fire occurred.
Two persons were seen escaping burning building, but not found for questioning. Government officers refused making further comments.

 

Goldie looked at Godiva in astonishment. “Vladmir and Uri …smugglers? I can’t believe it. They seemed so honest and likeable.”

Godiva interrupted her and closed the lid on the computer. “I’ll tell you the rest in the elevator. Mom and Unk will have cat fits if we’re late.” She picked up her little black leather Hermes bag and hustled Goldie out the door.

“I knew there was something inside those samovars! It’s got to be those priceless gems. Seven of them, just like the samovars.”

The elevator lurched to a stop and they spotted Flossie and Sterling pacing back and forth in the lobby.

Flossie started to scold her daughters for lollygagging, but Goldie took each of them under the arm and steered them outside. The valet opened the doors of the Town Car and hustled Flossie and Sterling into the back seat.

Even before Goldie settled herself in the front passenger seat, Flossie began to complain, “We have to schlep over to the Hilton for the banquet and you girls are late. You know this is a big deal for us and such an honor for your father, he should rest in peace. How would it look if they say, ‘and now an illusion from the famous Silvers,’ and it turns out the illusion is that we’re not there?” She waved her hand for emphasis.

Godiva turned around and patted her mother’s arm. “Calm down, Mom. We’re right on time. You guys must have gotten down to the lobby way early.”

“You know your mother,” Sterling grunted, “if you’re not there twenty minutes early, by her you’re already late.”

“Well, I got a very important e-mail from Angel just as we were about to leave.” She filled the old folks in on the story from the Russian newspaper.

Sterling scratched his head. “What did you call those gemstones? Alexandrite? Never heard of them.”

“I hadn’t either,” said Godiva.

Goldie raised an eyebrow. “What? There’s some kind of jewel my sister hasn’t heard of? Say it isn’t so.”

Godiva ignored the dig and went on. “Angel sent me a description, too. I guess it’s a pretty amazing stone. In daylight it’s a beautiful green but as soon as it’s under artificial light the color changes to a sort of ruby or purple. The better the stone, the more intense the color, and anything over five carats is really rare.”

“So where do these magical jewels come from?” Flossie asked.

“These came from Siberia. But, according to Angel, those mines closed years ago. That’s one reason the missing stones are so rare. The gems on the market today come from places like Brazil.”

Sterling perked up. “So how much would Siberian rocks like that be worth?”

“Well, Unk, a big one might be worth more than a fine diamond or emerald. But, a matched set of seven, well, I guess the sky is the limit.”

“Woo hoo!” Flossie shouted. “We’re not talking about spare change.”

Goldie snapped her fingers. “By the way, in all the rush I forgot to tell you, Mrs. Wurlitzer finally contacted me. I might be able to get the samovar back from her, seems it doesn’t go with her décor. I told her I’d be happy to come and get it and refund her money. She was sort of waffling and said she would think about it.”

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