Seven Deadly Samovars (19 page)

Goldie picked up the heavy Fed Ex box and they went into Godiva’s study. Waldo padded after them, nudging Goldie while whining, “Daaance nooowwww?” She smiled and patted him on the head. “Later. I promise you.” The big dog trailed behind wagging his tail.

Angel Batista was tidying up her desk in the large mahogany-paneled room as she got ready to leave “mission central” for the day. She called out, “Hey Boss, I put a couple of great letters on your desk, will you have time to go through them?” As she turned around, she added, “Oh I see you found the package that came for Goldie. What’s inside?”

Godiva closed the study door and turned the lock. “Don’t want anyone walking in on us. You’ll see.” Then she fished around in her handbag and came up with a little gold penknife.

Goldie and Angel watched as Godiva carefully slit the packaging. Styrofoam peanuts spilled all over the floor as she lifted up the exquisite samovar and let out a low whistle. Waldo chased the fluffy little squiggles all around the room, unaware of the treasure they surrounded.

Angel’s eyes widened behind her huge glasses. “Ohhhh, is that one of the samovars? When Lupe said a special package came for Goldie, I didn’t realize that’s what it was. Can I touch it?”

“Sure, Angel,” Goldie said.

She crossed the room looking like she was almost afraid to get too close. “So, this is one of the seven deadly samovars, eh? Wow. It really is beautiful though, isn’t it?” She walked around the desk and examined it from all angles, admiring the ivory handles, lion’s paw feet and delicate grape vines entwining the polished bronze urn. “Where do you think the gems are hidden? After reading all about it, I’d love to see what a real-life alexandrite looks like.”

Godiva turned to her sister. “Goldie, you’re familiar with things like this. Where do you think it’s hidden?”

“I don’t know. Let’s start at the top, and work our way down.” She removed the tape that secured the little teapot to its pedestal on top of the urn and peeked inside, even though she knew that was too obvious a hiding place.

She took off the lid, held it under the desk lamp and looked into the large conical body, but there was nothing unusual inside. Then she turned it over to study the bottom. She visualized Belle’s dented samovar sitting on a table at the Glory Hole after Jack fished it out of the dumpster. It looked like something had been torn off the bottom. She ran her finger around the lower edge, exerting just a little pressure.

Suddenly, a tarnished plate attached to the fancy legs sprang open. Inside the round cavity rested an old tobacco tin with Cyrillic lettering on it. Godiva and Angel stood by wide-eyed as she removed the tin carefully and twisted the lid. Crumbs of stale tobacco spilled on the desk. A large brilliant gemstone, the color of a fine ruby, was nestled in the mound of remaining tobacco. For a moment, none of the three women moved.

“Now, Angel, you’re sworn to secrecy. Only a few people are aware of this. No one can know we have the samovar and the stone.”

Angel looked her squarely in the eye. “Hey Boss, you’re talking to me. I’m the one who helped you figure it out. Remember? I haven’t said anything till now, and not a word will pass my lips.” She made a hand gesture across her mouth as though she was closing a zipper.

“Okay, I’m satisfied.”

A tear slid down Goldie’s cheek. “I forgot how nice this one was.” Then with a little break in her voice, she said, “Sorry, but just looking at this samovar makes me realize how much I’ll miss Mimi.” Waldo nuzzled her hand as she blinked away her tears.

Godiva jumped in and changed the subject. “Angel, tell us about the stones again.”

“Well, when I was doing my research, one of the articles said anything over a five carat Siberian alexandrite is extremely rare. This big rock must be way over five carats. I can’t even imagine how much seven stones like this would be worth.”

Godiva flashed her showy yellow diamond under their noses. “This one is five carats and, see,” she held the red gem beside it, “the size of this alexandrite makes mine look like it came out of a Cracker Jack box. What else did you find out about these stones, Angel?”

“Well, the most expensive ones change from brilliant green to very red in different lights. The best way to see the color change is to darken the room and put it under a fluorescent light because that’s like looking at it in daylight. Then, if you switch to incandescent light, you can see the color change. Let’s try it.”

The twins nodded in unison. Angel pulled the draperies and Goldie turned off the wall switch for the overhead fixture. The room was cloaked in darkness. Godiva clicked the switch on the large fluorescent desk lamp and the stone glowed a brilliant green. She turned it off again and Goldie flipped the wall switch. Now the stone was a sparkling ruby red.

Angel made the sign of the cross. “Ya know, I’m actually getting kinda creeped out. One of the things I read said the royal family was executed in 1918. Tzar Nicholas II died first, his daughters were shot too, but they were still alive. One man tried to finish them off with a bayonet, but that didn´t work. Finally, they were all shot in the head.”

Goldie let a little gasp escape as she plunked the gem back in the tobacco tin. “So, what has that got to do with this stone?”

“Well, when the men came to undress the bodies, they found that all of the women were wearing gold bodices covered almost entirely with diamonds, emeralds, and other precious stones.”

“Nothing like insurance for a rainy day,” Godiva said.

“Yeah, Sis, a lot of good it did them.”

“Anyway, besides the bodices,” Angel continued, “the Tzarina’s tiara with the Seven Stars of Siberia disappeared, too. Most people thought it was stolen by one of those guards.”

“Wow, that is creepy, Angel,” Godiva said. “And, you think this stone came out of that tiara?”

“Yep, that’s what I think. According to one of the articles, they found the remains of a platinum tiara in the rubble at Minsky & Pinsky.”

Goldie nodded sadly. She hated admitting to herself that her kindly Russian friends were really criminals. “Well, it looks like the investigators who were watching Vladimir and Uri really were on the right track.”

A silence fell over the study as they thought about the slaughter of the royal family of Russia and the looting of the precious gems. Waldo had gone to sleep on a pile of plastic bubbles and was snoring gently.

Godiva finally said, “Do you suppose we’ll ever find out how the Seven Stars got from that massacre to your crooked importers’ warehouse?”

“I’ll keep digging,” Angel said. “If there’s anything’s out there, I’ll find it, but some secrets never come to light.”

Angel looked at her watch. “Man-oh-man, I’ve gotta run, Boss. I’m supposed to meet Nathan for dinner in…oh no, fifteen minutes ago. Thanks for letting me see the stone. You guys better put it someplace safe.”

Godiva ushered Angel out of the study and locked the door. She walked over to the mahogany bookshelves lining the side wall, reached for a large bible on one of the upper shelves and the bookshelf swung open revealing a hidden room.

Turning to Goldie, she said, “This is the only thing Max ever used the bible for.”

Goldie’s eyes widened as she peeked into the little room, filled with valuable paintings, jewel boxes and a fireproof file cabinet. Before she could say anything, Godiva said, “This is my insurance for a rainy day. It will be a good hiding place.”

THIRTY ONE

       They were just finishing dinner when the intercom buzzed. The security camera showed Nellie McNab at the gate. Godiva let her in while Goldie finished the last of her dinner.

Nellie breezed in dressed in a very stylish purple pantsuit with a matching cashmere turtleneck. Perched on her head was a lavender cowboy hat with a rhinestone-studded hatband adorned with so many feathers it looked like she was ready to take flight. She pointed to the hat and chuckled. “I was just a few blocks away from you at a Mad Hatters’ dinner meeting. Do you like my outfit?”

Goldie laughed. “Well, your hat’s not as flashy as most of Belle’s, but you look great. Would you like some coffee or tea?”

Nellie followed them into the comfortable family room. “You know, I’d love a cup of coffee if it isn’t too much trouble. I’ve been going all day without stopping and I didn’t stay for dessert and coffee because I was anxious to get over here. How often do I get the chance to be part of something like this?” An engaging smile broke across her handsome face.

Godiva rang for Guadalupe and asked her to bring their guest some coffee and a slice of peach pie.

Before either sister could say another word, Nellie jumped in. “I was pretty worried about this whole situation. After all, Caesar Romano is one of my favorite TV chefs, so I talked to Harley about it. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve asked my husband for a favor.”

Goldie raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Do I want to hear this, Nellie?”

She laughed lightly, her chuckle sounding like a tinkling bell. “After getting to know you at lunch today, I think you girls will love it. It’s your kind of thing.”

They huddled in a bit closer and Nellie continued, “You know Harley can’t do anything in an official capacity at this point. But that doesn’t mean he can’t ask some of his friends in the Ghost Riders to give Ricky Thompson a helping hand.”

“What exactly do you mean by ‘helping hand’, Nellie?” Goldie asked.

“A bunch of the guys are going over to Caesar’s house to team up with Ricky and his men. They’ll keep out of sight, but his place will be surrounded in a tight circle. They’ll walk the bikes in so the engines don’t give them away. If your Russians show up and try to get into the house, they’re going to get a real surprise. Let’s just say, I think your Italian Stallion will be very safe tonight.”

“That sounds like a good precaution,” Goldie said. “Those Dumkovskys are ruthless. What do you think, Sis?”

Godiva nodded. “Yeah, I agree. We have to make sure those bad boys are stopped because if they do get into Caesar’s house and there’s no samovar, well, no telling what a couple of mad Russians are likely to do. I may be upset with Caesar, but I don’t want him to get hurt.”

They both smiled at Nellie. Goldie shook her hand. “Welcome to the team.”

THIRTY TWO

       Sterling steered the mammoth ’59 Cadillac toward Caesar’s house while Flossie sat beside him and offered unwanted advice. “
Oy
! Sterling, step on your brakes!” she shouted, clutching the dashboard. Since Flossie never actually learned to drive, Sterling figured out long ago how to tune her out. But he tapped the brake a little just to shut her up.

In between her commands, he managed to say, “Listen, old girl, we have to get to the point with Caesar right away. No going off on stories about the old days, you understand?”

“So what do you suggest, Mr. Toastmaster? Just barging in there and saying us
alter kockers
are ready to save his life because the police aren’t going to do a thing?”

“Well, not in so many words, but we just need to stay on track.” He drew a sharp breath and slammed on his brakes as a young guy in a silver Lamborghini cut in front of him. “It’s a mystery to me where those damn kids get the money for a machine like that. I was happy to have a used Model T when I was his age.”

Flossie tittered. “And you were saying about staying on track…”

“Okay, you got me there, I did get distracted. Anyway, the idea is to wait until those big bozos break in.”

“Who knows, maybe they’ll just waltz up to the front door and say they’re selling Girl Scout cookies.” She snickered at her own joke.

“Pay attention! Anyway, we set off the first illusion and ‘boom’ we trap them in the steel net from our Neptune and Nemo act just as they’re about to grab the fake samovar.”

“You got the net in the trunk? Did you get Godiva’s big coffee urn to use as a foil?”

“Well not exactly,” said Sterling a little sheepishly, “Martina loaned the damn thing to her church for a party, so I found a fertilizer can in the shed that’s about the right shape.”

“I don’t know, sounds a little shaky to me. What do we do with these guys once we get them in the net? Who gets to call the cops, me or you?”

“I dunno, Flossie, maybe Caesar should do that.”

“You mean let him get all the credit?” She folded her arms across her chest and pouted until they arrived.

They waited impatiently in front of the security camera until Caesar buzzed them in. They couldn’t see Ricky, his guys or the Ghost Riders watching from their hiding places around the perimeter of the property.

* * * *

The twins were deep in conspiratorial conversation with Nellie when the private line rang. “I’ll bet that’s Ricky.” Godiva zoomed across the room and grabbed the receiver. As she listened her eyes got wider and wider. She kept saying, “I don’t believe it.” Finally she hung up and said, “Saddle up, ladies. Mom and Unk are at it again.”

“I thought they were having dinner at the Daily Grill and going to a movie,” said Goldie.

“They skunked us again, Sis. Those old goats are over at Caesar’s. Ricky spotted them as they drove up. Of course Uncle Sterling’s ’59 Cadillac isn’t exactly a stealth missile.” She balled up her fists as she tried to calm her temper. “Darn them. They could ruin everything.”

* * * *

Caesar welcomed Flossie and Sterling and led them into the luxurious living room. Deep burgundy leather sofas and club chairs flanked a huge walnut coffee table arranged in front of an Italian tile fireplace. A signed Picasso print graced the opposite wall. The air was scented with a delicious aroma drifting in from the kitchen. “Sit down, you two. I was just experimenting with a new creation. Would you like a taste? I know you have something important to talk about, but first you must sample my recipe.”

Flossie answered for both of them. “My mouth is watering just from the aroma. Of course we want a taste. We can talk afterwards.”

Sterling gave her a warning look. “No this can’t wait, this is very important Caesar. It’s about that samovar you sent your mother. Did Godiva tell you that people who have them are dying?”