Seven Deadly Samovars (9 page)

Goldie gave her thumbs up. “Well, there is a space in the bottom of most of them where I suppose you could fit some small thing.” She drew a rough cutaway diagram on her yellow pad and suddenly snapped her fingers, “I’ll bet that’s it. They don’t want the samovars. They’re after whatever was in them. That must be why they threw Belle’s in the dumpster.”

“Of course, that’s it. Mimi must have hidden whatever she found. We have to go there first. Do you think we can get in?”

Goldie nodded. “I think we can.” She tapped her ballpoint on the pad. “Well, after that we should go over to the jail and see if we can talk to Taku. I know he was drunk when they picked him up, but maybe after drying out a little he’ll remember something if we can just ask him the right questions.”

Godiva hesitated, then said, “Well that expensive lawyer should have asked him all the right questions yesterday.”

“Perry said Taku couldn’t remember a thing. Maybe we’ll have better luck.”

Godiva agreed. “Say, while we’re at the jail do you think we can get Ollie Oliver’s ear for a minute? I want to give him both of these sketches and tell him our Russians left on that floatplane in female disguises. We’ve got to make Ollie see that your samovars are the key to these crimes.”

Goldie chuckled. “You must think this town is like Mayberry and ol’ Sheriff Oliver has the keys to the jail hooked on his belt.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Sis, this is the big city! Well, big for Alaska. It may interest you to know that there’s a large correctional institution here run by a staff of real prison personnel. Ollie is the Chief of Police. If we’re lucky we’ll find him at the fancy new police station out by Lemon Creek.”

“Well, la-dee-dah. Excuuuse me. I didn’t realize I was in such a booming metropolis. Now that you’ve set me straight, can we get back to the problem at hand?”

“Okay,” Goldie said, “but before we go to the jail I think we should stop at the police station and ask Ollie to get these sketches around to the ferry terminals and airports right away. If they wanted to get out of Alaska, maybe they thought the police would only look for them in Juneau, not in some other port. They could take that floatplane to Petersburg or Ketchikan and leave from there. Maybe Ollie can get someone at the FAA to ID that plane, or better yet a flight plan.”

The sisters threw around a few more ideas and Goldie scribbled down the notes. Of course all of this thinking made them hungry, so they each had a large apple toffee scone before they left. Counting calories wasn’t on their agenda today.

They stopped on the sidewalk in front of Tea & Sympathy. Goldie inhaled sharply and wiped a tear from her eye. Then she squared herself up. “Well, the police tape is still in place. We are about to break the law, Sis. Still up for it?”

“You bet. We owe it to Mimi. Listen, you know the layout. Is there a way we can sneak in the back so we aren’t breaking and entering in broad daylight on a busy street?” A mischievous spark danced in Godiva’s eyes. “Not to mention that we are ignoring crime scene tape.”

Goldie answered, halting while she thought it out. “Yeah. I think we can. The storeroom opens out to the back alley and Mimi kept a key above the door. Taku would use it if he needed a place to sleep. She once told me that, no matter how drunk he was he always put the key back above the door. Let’s check it out.”

The two silver-haired Mae West look-alikes tried to appear inconspicuous as they crept along the narrow passageway between the two old buildings. Goldie stood on her tiptoes and felt around the top of the back door frame. A smile flitted across her lips as she felt the key resting on the dirty ledge. “Got it. Here we go.” She fitted the key in the lock, and then placed it back above the door. The sisters stepped into the storeroom. A weak light filtered in through the dusty window.

Goldie noticed the spots of dried blood on the storeroom floor and on the pile of burlap bags where the police had found Taku sleeping. She let out a gasp. For a moment she flashed on the image of poor Mimi, in her nightgown, sprawled at the bottom of the stairs and tears welled in her eyes.

Godiva reached toward the shelves to start searching for clues.

“Wait,” Goldie whispered, “don’t touch anything.” She dug around in her carpetbag and finally pulled out two pair of gloves. “I knew I had these in there somewhere.” She handed a pair to Godiva and they began to poke around.

Taku’s backpack rested up against wood shelving that held supplies, containers of tea and a few tools. They checked all of the items but nothing looked out of the ordinary. Taku seemed to have kept a little stash of a few tins of tobacco, a hairbrush and a rolled up shirt nestled in his backpack. On the shelves, a few items were tucked between some boxes of tea, but there was nothing suspicious. They moved on.

They barely set foot into the shop when Goldie threw out her arm to stop Godiva. She whispered, “Someone is in here. I don’t think it’s the police.”

They froze and listened, hearts beating like tom-toms. There was a loud creaking above them that sounded like someone coming down the stairs from Mimi’s apartment.

Then they heard things being thrown around. Afraid to move, they tried to inch back into the storeroom. Godiva spotted a sudden motion to her right and was almost knocked off her feet as an intruder crashed into her while heading for the back door. It flew open sending rays of light into the dim storeroom. Silhouetted in the frame was a stocky figure dressed in black with a ski mask covering his head. He paused for a moment in the doorway and then ran out.

Godiva exhaled. “That nails it, Sis. It looks like someone else is trying to find whatever was in those samovars. And this time it wasn’t the Dumkovskys.”

“Well, I don’t think the guy who slammed into you found what he was looking for. Could it still be here?”

“I don’t know.” She held up her gloved hands, each knitted finger a different color. “But as long as we’ve got these stylish mittens on we might as well keep looking.”

They shuffled through everything in the vandalized shop, and then traipsed upstairs to Mimi’s apartment. The window beside the fire escape was shattered. “So that’s where he came in,” mused Goldie, “I was wondering if he knew about the key, but I guess not.” They combed the cozy little flat, which had been tossed by the fleeing intruder.

At one point Godiva said, “Do we even know what we’re looking for?”

Goldie shook her head. “I guess we’ll know it when we see it.”

After an hour of fruitless investigation, they gave into defeat and decided to head over to the police station.

THIRTEEN

       As they settled into Goldie’s Subaru, Godiva sighed. “What happened to the laid back vacation I was going to have in Juneau? I might as well be in L.A. with this crime wave going on.”

“At least it’s keeping you busy. After one day in Juneau you usually start complaining how bored you are.”

“Yeah, I’m busy alright. I’ve actually been too busy to check in with Angel. When we’re done with Ollie and Taku, I need to go back to your house and get on the computer. I’m running out of the columns I did before I left and Angel said she’d pick out a few letters for me to answer.” She fluffed her hair, shrugged her shoulder, and struck a Hollywood pose. “I still have my public to worry about, you know.”

Goldie pursed her lips. “Look, Godiva, we have no idea what we might learn from Taku. Besides that, Ollie may have dug up a lead on the Russians. Depending upon what happens, you might not get to that computer until tonight.”

“Tonight? What about my beauty sleep?” She pulled down the visor and looked into the mirror that Goldie had duct-taped to the back of it. “Ugh. Look at me. Your rural life is doing serious damage to my glamorous image.”

“I am looking at you. You look just fine. In fact, you look really healthy…just like me.”

Godiva raised her eyebrows. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to look good for your public.”

“That’s because the public around here doesn’t judge people by the labels on their fancy clothes.”

Godiva quickly changed the subject. “Okay, so where do we find the esteemed Chief of Police?”

“It’s not far. Just up Egan Drive to Lemon Creek. The prison is in the same general area. That’s where Taku will be.”

When they pulled up in front of the police station, Godiva stared at the glass-fronted modern building. “You said fancy, but I didn’t expect it to be this nice.”

Goldie shrugged. “We do have some nice buildings, you know.” She had phoned ahead, so Ollie stood in the lobby waiting for them, a cup of coffee cradled in his big hands.

“Hello, ladies. Before you get started on me, I want to say I think you’re absolutely right. It is beginning to look like those samovars of yours set off some kind of crime spree.”

They followed him down the hall. He offered some stale coffee, and said, “Okay, tell me what’s so urgent. When you said you had to see me right away, you made it sound like a life and death situation.”

Goldie gave him a serious look. “It is life and death, Ollie, there are two murderers running amok out there.”

Ollie pursed his lips and made a tent with his fingers as he leaned back in his chair. “Now, ladies, I already told you—”

“Oh I know, you keep insisting Taku killed Mimi and I agree, the odds are certainly against him, but we’re sure he’s innocent.”

Godiva interrupted, “See here, Chief, if you forget about Taku for a minute and look at what’s been happening, it’s pretty clear those Russians are the real killers.”

From her purse Goldie pulled out two sheets of paper and slapped them down on Ollie’s desk. “For heaven’s sake, just hear us out. These are sketches of the guys who stole the samovars. Their names are Boris and Igor Dumkovsky”. She pointed to one paper. “This is what they really look like.” Then she jabbed her finger at the other sheet. “We had Maurice draw them wearing these outfits.”

“What gave you the bright idea of putting women’s clothes on them?”

“We were over at the Glory Hole, and one of the people there saw them climb aboard Cassie Custard’s boat. Another guy said he saw Cassie and her sister leaving the boat this morning—”

Godiva broke in. “But the first guy said Cassie was in jail, so we put two and two together and figured they stole Cassie’s clothes for disguises.”

Ollie said, “I wouldn’t put too much faith in those folks at the Glory Hole.”

“Well maybe not,” said Goldie, “but we figured we’d have Maurice Flambeau do a sketch. When the girl in the stall next to him saw it, she said it looked exactly like two women she saw boarding a yellow Cessna this morning.”

Ollie Oliver held both sets of sketches at arm’s length. Then he set the first drawing down on his desk and concentrated on the second one…the men in baggy dresses and babushkas. He laughed out loud. “These guys are even uglier than Cassie! Ya know, we did have her locked up for a few days… another bender, it was sort of for her own safety.”

Ollie scratched his head and furrowed his brow. “Hmmm. But, well the old gal was right about something.”

“What do you mean, Chief?” Godiva asked.

He spread his hands out on the desk, palms down. “Just before you two got here, Cassie called. She was madder than a wet hen screaming that she’d been robbed. She said when she got back to her boat her stuff had been ransacked and some underwear, scarves and her two best dresses were missing. I’m lookin’ at the polka dot frock in this sketch and it looks just like the one Cassie was bellowing about. I hate to say it, but her dresses really would be big enough to fit these guys.”

Ollie started to say something, but Goldie broke in again. “Chief Oliver, two more people could be in danger: the woman from Seattle who bought one of the samovars, and my sister’s boyfriend Caesar. I thought you could fax these sketches to the airports and ferry terminals in the area. Maybe they were flying somewhere else to catch a plane or ferry to Seattle.”

He lifted the receiver and punched a button. “Norris, get your tail in here. I need some faxes sent out right away.” An officer came in, took the sketches and hurried off down the hall.

Goldie got up and signaled Godiva that it was time to leave. She said sweetly, “Any problem with us going over to the jail to talk with Taku?”

He walked to the door with them. “For you, Goldie? No problem at all. I’ll call over there and get you clearance. Let me know if you find out anything we don’t know.”

They stepped into the hall. Goldie turned to him. “And you’ll be sure to call me on the cell if anything turns up at the airports or ferry terminals?”

Ollie nodded and waved as they headed out the door.

Goldie tapped her finger against her chin, lost in thought. “This might sound far fetched, but you don’t suppose that Father Augustine’s murder is part of this whole thing, do you, Sis?”

“Well, maybe. But he was murdered before you started selling the deadly samovars, so it’s probably just a coincidence. We’ll have to leave that one to your friend Ollie to solve.”

On the way to the jail, they agreed that Cassie’s call about the stolen clothes confirmed they were on the right track. Now if only Taku had something to add.

Moments later an officer brought Taku into the visitor’s room. He blinked a bit and sat down. He looked at the twins and mumbled, “That lawyer guy who came to see me said you ladies are payin’ part of his bill and he’s worked out somethin’ with the state for the rest. I wanna thank you for helpin’ me. Not sure I’m worth it.”

Goldie patted his arm. “Rudy asked us to help you out, and my sister Godiva offered to pay for part of Perry Pinkwater’s fee. If anyone can save you, he can. But we need your help here. We don’t think you killed Mimi. We think something else happened.”

Taku stared blankly at the two women. Goldie said gently, “You need to try really hard to remember what happened the night Mimi was killed. Any little thing could be important.”

Taku coughed and squeezed his eyes shut as though he was trying to picture it. A tear slid down his cheek. He looked from one twin to the other. “How could I have kilt her? She was my angel.”