Korsakov finished the conversation with his superiors and returned to his seat by the coffee table where the others were now sipping tea and nibbling raspberry scones. The two agents huddled together and then Korsakov said, “The Chief of Antiquities Bureau will make monies transfer first thing when bank will open. Is middle of night in Moscow, I am waking up Chief to tell good news. On one hand he is happy, on other hand, well, not so happy. How you say? He is taking bite out of my behind.”
They all shook hands, and agreed that as soon as the money arrived the gemstones would be returned. Ricky and Ivan escorted them back to the gate where their cab was still waiting.
After the men left, Goldie sat down with her nephew, and listened to all of the exciting things that were going on in his career. “Okay Torch, what kind of pyrotechnical miracles have you got coming up next?”
“Actually, Auntie, I’m about to sign a contract to work on the special effects for a new TV series called Las Vegas Blowout. It’s about a team of building imploders taking down old casinos.”
Godiva came back into the room and sat down on the sofa beside her son. “Well I hope they never take down the Diamond Slipper, that’s where your poor father died. I’ll never forget his last words, ‘Made a million on a buck!’ Then he keeled over and, poof, he was gone.” She flapped her hand as though she was throwing dust to the wind.
“Don’t worry, Mom, they’re not destroying any real landmarks, the places will be fictitious and the demolition is all special effects. If this TV series works out, it could keep me in one place for a long time instead of bouncing all over the world. I’m thinking of buying one of the new high-rise condos going up in Vegas. There’s one called the Palms Palace under construction now. Lots of rockers and movie stars are buying them, so they’re going fast. The buzz is they’ll be sold out before the buildings are finished. I’m flying up to meet with the realtors tomorrow.”
Godiva seemed a little disappointed that her son was making a financial move without consulting her, but then her face brightened. “Looks like you’re following in your father’s footsteps, Torch. He made all his money in real estate. Just promise me you won’t turn into a heartless jerk like him, he should rest in peace.”
FORTY ONE
Goldie waited impatiently with a bunch of fidgety passengers at Gate 37B. The scheduled departure time came and went. A crackly voice said over the speaker, “Ladies and gentlemen, Flight 75 to Seattle, Ketchikan and Juneau will be delayed approximately two hours. We appreciate your patience; we are waiting for a substitute crew. It seems the folks assigned to this flight must have been out partying last night and it has been determined they are unfit to fly.” At this point Goldie joined the other passengers in an aggressive protest, but it did no good whatsoever. They were still two hours late.
It was after seven that evening when her flight finally pulled up to the gate. Goldie felt bedraggled as she rode the escalator down to the terminal lobby. She brightened up, however, when she spied Belle and her whole Mad Hatters group waiting at the bottom with a warm welcome. It was impossible to keep a straight face while she scanned the ladies’ hats decorated with porpoises cavorting on blue lace waves, dancing California raisins, and Belle’s own creation, a top hat fashioned like a slot machine spewing coins.
They all chorused, “Welcome home, Goldie” while Belle enveloped her in a bear hug. Tourists gaped at the colorful group as they gathered around the baggage carousel.
Goldie’s blue duffel bag was the first one down the chute. As she pulled it off the conveyor, she felt an affirmation of her theory that the airline only seemed to lose or damage the most expensive bags. In the parking lot the Hatters waved goodbye and Belle hustled Goldie and her duffle into the pink Caddy.
The minute the car was in gear, Belle filled her in on the latest news. The Russian government was, indeed, pulling every string possible to extradite the Dumkovskys and, much to Ollie’s relief, it looked like they might succeed.
Goldie’s mother-in-law was in her glory. “The LAPD got quite an earful from the police in Vladivostok,” she gushed, “Nellie called and told me all about it. I passed the information on to Ollie. Oh boy, was he surprised that I knew more than him about this case and what’s going on in Russia!”
“Like what?”
“Like did you know that Vladivostok is a hotbed of all kinds of smuggling operations? There are ethnic gangs at war with each other and the police are so understaffed they hardly solve any of the crimes committed every year.” Belle inhaled deeply and executed a sharp right turn without signaling, causing the car behind her to slam on the brakes.
She continued unruffled. “So, when the LAPD contacted the head of the regional police in Vladivostok, they were really anxious to get their hands on those two. The arson and murder at your friends’ warehouse was such an awful crime, it’ll make them look good if they can put the Dumkovskys behind bars. The LAPD has enough of their own criminals, and all they had in L.A. was just a little breaking and entering charge anyway. So they’ll either turn those bad boys over to Juneau, Seattle or Russia. Looks like they’ll play the international card. Ollie didn’t seem too broken up about handing them over to the Vladivostok police. He’ll get credit for solving the crime and not have to deal with all the work of prosecuting them.”
Leaning forward in the plush pink leather seat, Goldie asked, “When you talked to Nellie, did she say if the LAPD got any other information out of them…like how the Dumkovskys knew I had the samovars?”
“You bet, there’s plenty more. Those big oafs sang like canaries. Listen, we’re almost at your place. Why don’t I tell you over a cup of tea?” They chugged up Starr Hill and pulled over to the curb near Goldie’s house. Belle set the parking brake and opened the car door. She graciously offered to help Goldie lug her duffle up the forty-seven stairs leading to the house, but Goldie said she could handle it. For Belle, just getting her considerable bulk up the stairs was an accomplishment.
Goldie fixed some tea and waited for her mother-in-law to catch her breath. After a few huffs and puffs, she said, “Honey, it’s just like something in the movies. I think I’ve got this all straight. The Dumkovskys worked in the warehouse for your smuggler friends.”
“So Uri and Vladmir really were smugglers?”
“Yup. Big time. Not all of their exports were on the up and up. Anyway, the Dumkovskys got wind of something out of the ordinary going on and realized it involved the long lost tiara with those alexandrites in it.”
“I’m surprised they knew what the Seven Stars were.”
“Well, Boris said he overheard Minsky arranging to ship the jewels to their contact in Alaska. He was describing the Seven Stars to a buyer in the states who brokers stolen gems. When Boris realized what kind of treasure they had in the warehouse, he and his brother decided to sabotage the shipment and get rich.”
“Boy, that sure backfired! I’d love to know what their charts said.”
“Yeah, their astrological sign is probably Bozo the Clown.”
“I know you don’t place much stock in the charts, Mama Belle, but I bet there was disaster written in the stars that day. You know, I’m still trying to figure out how the jewels wound up at my shop.”
Belle nodded. “Well, I don’t need the stars to tell me that one. Boris told the police that when he saw the fancy tiara in Pinsky’s office, the stones had been pried out. He hid in a storeroom and saw Minsky personally packing the gems in some samovars that he had been soldering and repairing for weeks. He watched your friend put them in a crate addressed to Rimsky at the Russian church. That shipment was due to go to Pistov at the same time as yours.”
Goldie poured more hot tea in Belle’s cup. “So they switched the shipment somehow?”
“Got that right, Babycakes. Boris and his brother actually showed amazing ingenuity. They hid in the storeroom until everyone left for the night, then they opened your crate and the one going to the church and switched the samovars. In the morning they sent only your crate to Pistov, knocked out their bosses when they arrived for work, stole their passports, locked the doors and torched the place.” Belle shivered at the thought of these cold-blooded killers locking their co-workers inside.
Goldie shook her head in disbelief. “So those two weren’t as bumbling as we thought they were?”
“Not by a far sight. They figured if they sent the shipment to you, by the time they arrived in Juneau, it would be easy to just buy them back for a few dollars. The contact at the church, who turned out to be Rimsky, would think that everything burned up back in Vladivostok.”
“I wonder how a guy like Rimsky got the job at the church in the first place.”
“Beats me,” said Belle, “I guess he answered an ad in the
Juneau Fishwrapper
or something. The thing that gets me, Goldie, is that now some people around town are saying that Father Innocent might have known all about it, and they’re even trying to figure out if he was part of the smuggling ring. I seriously doubt it, why, he hardly knows his own name half the time.”
“Yeah, I guess the poor old priest was an easy target. I suppose Rimsky killed Father Augustine because he discovered what was going on.”
“Yes, and that new Father Inquisitive is still going through the records. He told Ollie he finds something new every day.”
“Wow, Mama Belle, I guess the Dumkovskys were beside themselves when they got to Juneau and the shipment didn’t show up. They must have been watching the shop for a couple of weeks.”
Belle took another swig of her tea. “Once it did arrive they probably thought they were home free.”
“But the samovars were almost all gone by the time they tried to bully me out of them. So when they broke in and took the last samovar, they must have grabbed the sales slips to see who bought the rest.” Goldie tapped the side of her teacup. “There’s still one piece of this puzzle missing, Mama Belle. One of the things that Godiva and I have been trying to figure out is who else was Rimsky’s working with? Someone was moving the goods once he received them at the church. Someone tore the sheet with the customer addresses out of my ledger book and gave it to him.”
Belle took a hankie out of her purse and fanned herself. “Well Dearie, Ollie is going to be stuck with Rimsky since it looks like his big crime took place here in Juneau. He was the one who bumped off Father Augustine, so when we get him back here, maybe one of Ollie’s boys can get Rimsky to give up his accomplice. You won’t believe what people are saying, but some of the gossip is that Father Innocent was the mastermind and he was hit on head purposely to make him look like a victim. Humph!”
FORTY TWO
Goldie watched Belle teeter down the wooden stairs. She kicked off her shoes and collapsed into an overstuffed chair facing the bay window. After all the excitement of the past few weeks, Goldie welcomed a moment of quiet and solitude as she gazed at the boats in the busy harbor. Red’s ship was on an eleven-day cruise, so she only had herself to worry about. She decided unpacking could wait as she reached for the phone to call Godiva.
Her ESP wavelength had obviously been received, because her sister answered on the second ring. “Hello, Goldie, I see you made it back but I actually expected you to call earlier. It’s almost eight o’clock already.”
“Well, yeah.” Goldie sighed. “Big delay at the airport. Can you believe it? The crew had a hangover so they had to wait for a new one. And then Belle picked me up and bent my ear for the last hour. She filled me in on what’s been happening around here. The most interesting part, though, is what she found out from Nellie.”
As Goldie recounted Belle’s story about the Dumkovskys’ involvement at Minsky and Pinsky’s antique warehouse, Godiva punctuated the conversation with comments like “wow” and “oh no”.
At the end, she said, “Sis, I’m sorry your importer friends turned out to be big time smugglers. I know you would have felt better if they’d been innocent victims. You know, I’m really curious about Rimsky. Did anyone ever suspect he wasn’t on the up and up?”
“Well, except for the Russian Orthodox community, I don’t think that many people paid any attention to him. I mean, we saw him around town and knew he worked at St. Nicholas church, but that’s about it. Maybe I’ll ask Nora and Dora the next time I see them. I guess they’ll be hounding me for another samovar. Truthfully, it’ll be a long time before I can look at one and not think of poor Mimi.” After a loud yawn, she said, “Hope you don’t mind, but I’ve gotta turn in. I’m absolutely beat and tomorrow will be a busy day.”
Rudy came down early the next morning to make sure that everything was just so for Goldie’s return. When she walked through the door a few minutes before nine, there was a spring in her step and a smile on her face.
Looking up from the brass lamp he was polishing, Rudy called out, “Hey, boss, are ya through gallivantin’ for a while?” He swept the shop with his skinny outstretched arm. “We got a big ship comin’ in at eleven and three more this afternoon. Should be another busy week, so I pulled all the extra stock out of the storeroom while you was gone. Hope you like the way I set it up.”
She looked around and noted the newly arranged displays, including a footstool covered in green mohair that Midnight had claimed as his own. Everything looked terrific. “You did a great job, Rudy. Thanks.”
“Well, Taku helped me some. I’m gonna miss that ole boy when he moves into Mimi’s apartment. ’Course it ain’t official yet, but her lawyer called yesterday an’ said she did put him and the Fishermans’ Benevolent Society in her will. Taku promised me he’s gonna straighten up. Yessir. Gonna do it fer Mimi.”
Goldie wondered what Rudy’s friend would do once he had money and a nice place to live. She didn’t have to wonder very long.
Rudy was beaming when he said, “Here’s the plan. Him and me hatched up an idea of what to do with his money from the reward, and he already talked to the Benevolent Society, bein’ as they’ll own the building. He’s gonna work with them to turn the tea shop into a fish shop. Boy, howdy! If there’s one thing that ol’ boy knows, it’s fish.”