Seven Deadly Samovars (2 page)

“Godiva, if you guys don’t come I’ll never hear the end of it. You’ll have fun, meet interesting people.”

“Like Salty Sam and the Bear Man from Pack Creek?”

“Don’t be such a snob. Besides, everyone who’s anyone in Juneau will be there. The Governor, the Attorney General, judges and legislators. Belle has some pretty influential friends.”

Godiva winced, picturing hefty, flamboyant Belle Pepper in some outlandish muumuu. Goldie’s overbearing mother-in-law was one of those deceptive Alaskans who appeared to be one step above a bag lady, but owned a few million dollars worth of downtown property. Between the shady origins of her wealth and the spirit and energy of a seventeen year old, Belle was a Juneau legend.

Trying to sound apologetic, she said, “Sorry Goldie, there’s no way we can come to the party; we have other fish to fry.”

“No way, I’m not letting you off the hook. What could be more important?”

“Look on your calendar, Sis, didn’t you mark down the Icons of Illusion Awards Banquet on the twenty-second? In Seattle? Remember, Mom and Uncle Sterling are featured presenters at the Convention. There’s a special tribute to the Three Great Harry’s. I’m sure Mom told you. We all have to be there.”

“Omigod! I forgot to write it down! Harry Houdini, Harry Blackstone and Daddy, Harry Silver. I promised Mom. I can’t believe I forgot.”

“Well, anyway, it’s impossible. Mom and Unk have lots of rehearsing to do. They have to polish those acts they do at the Home for Hollywood Has-Beens, so there’s no way they can come to Alaska before the Icon’s Convention. Not at their age.”

“Well that means you and Caesar will have to come without them.”

“Nope, I’ll be busy helping Mom. Eat some salmon for me, Sis.”

“Look, Godiva, I’ll move heaven and earth to go to the banquet, but if you don’t come up here for Belle’s party, she’ll beat me to a pulp and I’ll never make it to Seattle. How many times have I gone out of my way for you?”

A tiny twinge of guilt must have tugged at Godiva. “Okay, I guess I owe you that. I’ll go to Belle’s shindig with Chili, and I’ll try to talk Caesar into coming with us. I’ll just stay in Juneau until we fly to Seattle for the banquet. Angel can make the reservations today. First class, my treat.”

“Oh, I knew you wouldn’t let me down. We’ll have so much fun!”

Godiva sighed. “Well, I don’t know about that, but I guess it will be a relief to get away from all the crime in L.A. and spend a few days in sleepy little Juneau. Caesar would probably enjoy it.”

“Um, Godiva, things aren’t quite as safe and sleepy as you think. You won’t believe what happened yesterday. A young priest was murdered, right there in the Russian Orthodox Church!”

“Murdered?”

“Yep. Belle was the first to bring us the news.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Well, now it’s all over the front page of the
Juneau Fish Wrapper
and the TV crews from KJNO and AlaskaOne invaded the church and sent old Father Innocent into a tizzy. Took three of the worshipers and his helper, Rimsky, to get him calmed down.”

“Sounds like you’re all wound-up, too. How did you get so busy that you forgot Mom’s banquet?”

“Well, the church sisterhood collected donations to buy Father Innocent a Russian samovar for his retirement. I have seven on order from Vladivostok, but wouldn’t you know it? They’re already two weeks late and those nice old women are getting very impatient. We can’t reach our Russian antique dealers, Minsky and Pinsky, and the freight forwarder isn’t helping.”

“So how much time is left until he retires?” Godiva asked.

“It was supposed to be next week, but that’s all changed now. That young priest was Father Innocent’s replacement, so I guess the only good thing about the murder is that they won’t need the retirement gift yet. That gives me a little more time for the samovars to get here.”

“Yeah, Sis. Some spot of sunshine. The new priest gets knocked off and you’re relieved because that buys you time with the samovar shipment.”

“Gee, when you say it like that, it sounds terrible, more like something you would think of.”

Godiva changed the subject. “Listen Goldie, give me all the info and I’ll have Angel track your samovars. You know how great she is with that sort of thing. And can you call the Baranof and make a reservation for Caesar and me? A suite if they have one.”

“I would, but every hotel in town is booked solid for weeks. Not only is it tourist season, but there’s a big Alaska Native convention coming up. Don’t worry, though, we’ll figure something out. You may not get a hotel room, but you won’t be sleeping in the park.”

Godiva frowned. “The park would probably be better than that closet you call a guest room. Only one bathroom for the whole house; when are you going to remodel?”

“Come on, Sis. You’ve become so spoiled. You would think we live in some little cabin at Tee Harbor with an outhouse. I’ll try to make some other arrangement for you, but you know my ‘closet’ isn’t all that bad. Will Caesar stay in Juneau until we go to Seattle?”

Godiva grumped back. “How am I supposed to know? He doesn’t even know he’s going yet.”

THREE

       “Angel,” Godiva grumbled as she paced around the room, “Goldie’s getting craftier in her old age and I don’t think I like it. How did she manage to trick me into going to that god-forsaken place? Wait till I spring this on Caesar.”

“Oh, come on, boss, Goldie didn’t trick you. She just played on your sympathy a little. It would never enter her mind to manipulate people the way you do.”

“Angel, I do not
manipulate
people. I use tactical reasoning and the power of persuasion.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll need to use much of that on Caesar. Alaska’s an exciting place. I bet he’d love to go.”

Godiva glared at Angel. “That’s only because he’s never been to Goldie’s house. It’s claustrophobic, boring, and there’s no escape from Juneau, no road out of there.”

“But it’s so romantic! He’ll get to spend time with you away from the pressures of Hollywood, and you’ll get a rest from writing your column. Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

“Right. We’ll both work our butts off to get ahead of our schedules so we can take the trip, and then we’ll be stuck in that little attic room of hers, pounced on by her outlandish mother-in-law and all of her goofy friends. Yeah, it’ll be a blast.”

“Oh, cheer up. Goldie’s going to Seattle, and you know how happy that will make Flossie and Sterling. Your sister does so much for everyone, don’t make such a big deal about doing something for her.”

Godiva shrugged her shoulders. “By the way, sounds like there was quite a bit of excitement up there.”

Angel pushed up her glasses. “Well from what you told me when someone robs a candy store it’s front page news. So what happened?”

“Murder. That’s what. Someone bumped off the new Russian Orthodox priest.”

“Oh, that’s awful.”

Godiva cleared her throat. “Of course it’s awful, but Goldie lucked out. See, the victim was sent to replace the old priest who’s retiring. The church ladies wanted an antique samovar as a retirement gift and Goldie ordered some from Russia. The shipment is late and those women have been driving Goldie nuts.”

“So now the pressure’s off because the new guy’s dead and they have to wait for another replacement? Man, some luck!” Angel leaned back in her chair and frowned.

“Okay, I know it seems petty, but Goldie really sounded frazzled. Why don’t you give her a call and offer to help track that shipment down? I guess I can do two nice things in one day.”

Angel smiled. “Sure, boss, if anyone can find it, I can. Maybe it’s sitting on a dock somewhere.”

After talking to Goldie, she looked over all of the information and placed an international call. First she tried the antique warehouse of Minsky & Pinsky in Vladivostok, but had no luck getting through. “No wonder Goldie couldn’t reach them. The number’s been disconnected.”

Godiva looked confused. “Disconnected? Why don’t you go online? Maybe they’ve moved. Meanwhile, I’ve got to call Caesar. He said he’d go to the ends of the earth for me. Now’s his chance to prove it.”

She picked up the phone and dialed Caesar Romano’s number while Angel logged on to Google.

After about twenty minutes of pounding keys, Angel let out a low whistle. “Well, I can tell you one thing, boss. Those guys aren’t going to be returning anyone’s calls. Take a look at this.”

Two sheets of paper fluttered out of the printer. She grabbed them and slapped them down on Godiva’s desk with a solid thump.

Godiva picked up the top sheet and said to Angel, “What’s this? Something from a Russian newspaper?”

“Yep. The first sheet is. I ran it through a language program and the second sheet is sort of a loose translation. The article is two weeks old.” She jabbed her index finger halfway down the second sheet and read out loud, “Today nothing left of warehouse of Vladivostok importers/exporters Minsky & Pinsky. Last night fire raced through building. This morning, only ashes. Authorities fear Vladimir Minsky of Pinsk and Uri Pinsky of Minsk and all the eight workers perished in flames.”

Godiva’s eyes widened. “Wow. Look at that photo. It sure is a mess. Goldie’s going to flip when you send her this. The place is a total loss.”

Angel nodded. “It looks like even scavengers won’t be able to find anything. A little farther down the page it says that arson is suspected. Guess you’ll have to call Goldie and tell her the bad news. Maybe I can find her some samovars on E-bay just to get the church ladies off her back.”

Godiva shook her head. “I hate delivering bad news. Why don’t you call her for me? But first check with that forwarding company. She said Rudy had no luck with them, but Rudy only speaks Texan. Sometimes I can’t even understand him.”

Angel thought for a moment and then brightened. “Yeah, these shipments take a long time in transit. I’ll bet the samovars were sent before the fire. Let me see what I can find out before I call Goldie. By the way, what did Caesar say?”

Godiva held up her hands, palms out. “You were right. No snide comments please. He actually jumped at the chance to go to Juneau and the salmon bake. They have to film two shows ahead anyway because Chili asked for a few days off to go to her grandmother’s party.”

It was clear that Angel loved the idea of being right for once.

“He really likes Goldie.” Godiva made a show of clearing her throat. “He said he’s always wanted the adventure of seeing Alaska. He’ll get an adventure, all right.”

“Of course it will be an adventure.”

“Ah, Angel, that’s not what I meant. Wait until he sees Goldie’s guest room. A double bed in a little loft. You bump your head on the ceiling when you get up. And the narrow stairs are only a little better than a ladder. One bathroom for everyone. Wow. I can hardly wait.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh yes it can! Just keep checking all the hotels to see if you can find a cancellation. Hmmmph. There must be a gazillion stairs just to get up to the house. You practically need a Sherpa.”

FOUR

       “So, what’s that big smile about, Goldie? Talked yer high falutin’ sister into comin’ to Belle’s shindig?”

“You bet. She reminded me that I’d told Mom and Unk I’d go to Seattle for the Icons banquet. Of course I would have done that anyway. I wouldn’t disappoint the old folks for anything, but now she’s picking up the tab.” Rudy gave her a victory sign, hitched up his striped pants and started toward the back of the shop to continue his tinkering.

“Hey, Rudy,” Goldie called out, “maybe things are looking up. When I told Godiva about our samovar problem, she even offered to have Angel track them down. That girl is really a whiz.”

He turned around before disappearing through the beaded curtain. “How ’bout that fancy chef of hers? Is Belle gonna have her Hollywood celebrity at the party?”

“If I know my sister, she’ll get him to come. You know how she likes to show off.”

Rudy jabbed his thumb against his thin chest. “Bet my buddies can teach him a thing or two ’bout how an Alaskan cooks a salmon.”

Goldie chuckled as she pictured one of the grizzled fishermen giving advice to the slick Italian chef. “I wish Mom and Uncle Sterling could come too, but I guess all that traveling really would be too much for them. At least Red’s ship is in port that night. His mother would never forgive him if he missed her big day.”

“Oh, ya know Belle, she’d have called out the Coast Guard to bring him back to port.”

“You got that one right! The best part is I’ll have my husband with me for a whole day.”

“Let’s hope that Angel gal finds them samovars,” Rudy called over his shoulder.

Midnight padded over and rubbed against Goldie’s leg. A moment later the huge feline jumped into her lap, snuggled up and let out a few enormous puffs of tuna fish breath. “Ooooh, Midnight, we need to do something about your breath. Belle’s friend Molly brushes her cat’s teeth with chicken flavored tooth paste, would you like that?”

Midnight narrowed his eyes and stuck out his little pink tongue. “Mrrrroowww,” he said and jumped down. He headed for his favorite footstool in the shop window and never looked back.

The old fashioned phone on the sales counter rang twice. “Silver Spoon Antiques. Goldie speaking.”

“Oh, Goldie,” Angel said, “I had to call you right away. You’re not going to like this. I’m afraid your samovars may be toast.”

An involuntary shudder ran through Goldie’s body. “Toast?”

“Yep, as in burned to a crisp. I found an article online from the Vladivostok newspaper
that said Minsky and Pinsky’s warehouse burned to the ground two weeks ago.”

Goldie let out a gasp.

“It gets worse. It looks like your importers died in the fire along with all their employees. A real tragedy. They think it was arson; everything was a total loss. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this.”

It took Goldie a moment to compose herself before she said, “Oh, no! Poor Uri and Vladimir! I never expected anything like that.”