Twelve
Jennifer awoke to Francis’ tap at the door at eight
o’clock the next morning. Groggily, she dressed, went to the basement,
and asked Gabby through a closed door to call Larry Reinhart.
Emily had purchased a coffee maker the previous
evening, providing Jennifer with a hot cup of coffee before leaving on her
mission to replace the Toyota. Francis gave her a new credit card and
admonishments to rent at least a midsize car with a V-six engine. “Keep
your gun in your purse, your eyes open, and don’t you dare risk a single
traffic violation.”
Jennifer rented a shed in a storage facility
for six months, gave a
passing teenage boy ten dollars cash to remove the plates to the car, and
locked the Toyota away. She dropped the plates in a trash barrel, phoned
for a cab and rented a full-sized sedan with a V-eight engine. She
shopped for a few more useful items, and returned to the apartment in time
to watch Leroy pull up in his white Caddy.
Jennifer called from the side door for Francis to
come down, a call that brought Gabby from the bowels of his basement as
well. Leroy and Gabby exchanged a low volume, rapid-fire exchange of
words before Francis waddled into view.
“Gabby might snitch on us about
what Gabby heard over the phone when you called me last night," Jennifer
said quietly to Francis. "But Mr. Reinhardt's a bit on the greedy
side, and there's something’s fishy between those two. They’ve got
something up their sleeve.”
Francis continued on with a thoughtful nod, extending
her hand as she reached Leroy waiting in the shaded yard along the west
side of the building. She introduced herself in her most refined manner
and offered no explanation at all as to why she and a growing number of
lovely young women wanted to rent the out-of-the-way apartment building.
“Or stay will be limited,” Francis concluded, “but I will be willing to
lease the entire apartment for a one month minimum, cash in advance. We
have business in town that will last that long. Jennifer said you
mentioned a four hundred dollar price her month on each of the apartments.”
Leroy sighed unhappily. “Make it thirty-eight hundred for the month in
advance, and I’ll include utilities and Gabby’s services for any problems
that might creep up. We can forget about the security deposit.”
"I have cashier's checks to
cover most of that," Francis announced.
Jennifer went upstairs to put supplies away. Francis
joined her fifteen minutes later. “Bertha and Sally will be here soon.
Valerie’s taking a flight in. She’ll take a cab to a motel and we’ll pick
her up sometime this evening or tomorrow morning. I don’t want anyone to
travel about this area alone. I want you to go after her when she
arrives. I want to keep Emily here at the apartments for security.
I’ve sent the rest of the girls on vacations in Europe and South America
until this is over.”
Jennifer nodded acknowledgement.
“Wanda’s body is being shipped to her parents in
Oregon for burial. Ed’s will specified cremation. I’ve heard that there
was no body found at the Carvelli mansion, but I have no reason to doubt
your story about what happened to Cathy. They’ll pay for it, I promise.”
Jennifer locked herself in her bathroom, knelt before
the toilet, and spent the next half hour being sick.
Early in the afternoon, Gabby came out to her as she
wandered the perimeter of the trees for a breath of fresh air. “Are you
feeling better, Miss?”
For a fraction of a second, his concern was as
innocent as it was genuine. The incongruity struck a moment later.
How did he know that she had not been well?
Jennifer suppressed any visible reaction and thanked
him for his concern. She touched his arm and asked about his family to
divert his train of thought. She wanted Gabby on her side regardless of
his nefarious secrets.
He dipped his head. “Long time ago, wife and kid.
Long time before that, a brother and sister. Dead. I outlived them all.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged off her concern. “Car accidents and
cancer. Happens all the time.”
“That doesn’t make it easier for
any of us.”
He glanced at her, surprised by the bite in tone of
voice. “No, it sure don’t make it easier."
“How long have you been working for Mr. Reinhart?”
Gabby wrinkled his nose. “Two years. Leroy always
has something going, some scheme to make more money, as if he needs more.
He’s like a kid sometimes. He likes to screw around just for something to
do.”
“What was the deal with the Catholic school?”
The subject brought Gabby to life. “Spanish girls
from Mexico and South America. Orphans. We heard about fifty. Me and
Leroy figured maybe they were trying to import prospective nuns, bring
them up north and educate them.”
“I never heard of such a thing.”
“Well, it never got off the ground. Chickens got
counted before they were hatched, maybe before the hen got screwed by the
rooster.”
“Leroy’s count, I gather.”
Gabby shrugged. “Maybe he heard it wrong. He
thought we’d make a killing. Now we’ve got a white elephant on our
hands. You guys are buying us the time we need to find renters.”
Cries of greeting sounded from the parking lot.
Sally and Bertha had arrived, and Sally and Emily were sharing tears for
their fallen comrades.
Gabby went back inside as if alarmed by the
newcomers. Jennifer rounded the corner to see Emily and Sally embracing
one another with more than just a friendly greeting. The two had never
managed to hide the nature of their relationship from anyone but
themselves. After a time, they looked guiltily around to see who was
watching, ignoring tiny Bertha gathering their bags from the trunk of an
old car. Another car to ditch, Jennifer supposed.
Bertha spotted Jennifer and joined her. Together,
they watched Emily regain her usual sobriety. Sally, too, returned to
being her usual aloft, ethereal beauty capable of bringing in over a
thousand dollars a night from some of the world’s richest men, just as
Emily could rack in almost as much from men who like to be whipped and
spanked and didn’t feel deserving of softer, more beautiful women.
Francis hustled everyone upstairs and filled the two
newcomers in on the fate of Cathy, Ed, and Wanda. Emily and Sally went
off together talking in hushed tones. Jennifer showed Bertha her
apartment.
Bertha flopped face down onto the couch and buried
her face in the cushions. Wearing jeans and a white blouse, she looked
more the part of a local tomboy than one of Francis’ girls. Bertha would
be the one to feel out Gabby for his naughty secrets. At five-two in
height, Bertha weighed in at about one hundred pounds and had a cute face
and perky, high breasts, the kind of unspoiled youth that older men
preferred. Bertha was the closest a paying customer could come to
statutory rape and incest without crossing those hazardous boundaries.
“I’m bushed,” Bertha said.
“Take a nap.”
Bertha glanced up at her. “I heard what Cathy did.
I feel so bad for her. Was Wanda high?”
Jennifer nodded.
“Francis slipped up,” Bertha said. “She got too
sentimental about poor Ed. He was getting too old to deal with serious
trouble.”
“Ed was like a father to me,” Jennifer said in
protest.
Bertha shrugged in self defense. “Me, too, but I
don’t want to have to feel too sad about him getting killed the way he
did. He would have thought it a fit ending, dying to protect us girls.
Men age more gracefully than women, up to a certain point. After that
point, they don’t seem to enjoy life very much.”
“I guess.”
Bertha bounced to her feet. “So, what’s to eat? And
who’s the old fart I saw go in the side way?”
Jennifer went through the meager groceries purchased
the night before. She held up packages of ramen noodles and breaded pork
chops that could be served in under fifteen minutes. Bertha gave a shrug
of borderline approval.
“That was Gabby,” Jennifer said. She dumped the
noodles in a pan with some water and threw the pork chops in the oven. She filled Bertha in on her
suspicions about Gabby, Leroy, and the house. “They were expecting to
rent the apartments to a bunch of girls. I’ve got a bad feeling about
it. I like Gabby, but you can probably get more out of him than me.
Francis doesn’t want me touching.”
“I’ll wring him out for you and hang him up to dry,”
Bertha said cheerfully. “Squeeze every godblessed dirty secret from his
tarnished old soul.”
“Don’t hurt him,” Jennifer scolded.
“I won’t hurt him. If I like him, I’ll make him feel
twenty years-old again. After all, I’ve got to keep my skills honed
while we’re out here in the boonies, and he’s all I got to work with. The
rest of you can play with your vibrators. Emily can play with Sally, of
course.”
Jennifer gritted her teeth and sighed. “God, if they
heard you say that, Emily would shoot you.”
“What the hell, we all talk about you behind your
back, you prissy little virgin.”
Jennifer looked around in mock horror. Bertha
shrieked laughter, enticing Jennifer to chase her into the bathroom where
the door slammed in her face and locked a split second none too soon.
“I’ll pepper your noodles, you horrible little girl!”
Francis’ shrill voice sounded from the apartment door
as the older woman walked by. “You two girls behave yourselves! We will
have a meeting in one hour!”
Within the hour, they gathered in the living room of
the third upstairs apartment Francis had chosen for herself. “Valerie
hasn’t called yet,” she announced. “When she does, I’ll will expect each
of you to decide whether you wish to remain together here as a group or
take a vacation overseas as the other girls have done.
“Emily, I would prefer that you remain with me.
Jennifer, I cannot absolutely guarantee your safety. I don’t know who to
turn to for help. With Ed gone, I feel so terribly helpless. I hate
being threatened by men and being dependent upon men to defend us against
their brutish nature.”
Francis paced the room, thinking out loud. “Valerie
is the least stable emotionally. I’ll send her away.”
“Sally will stay with me,” Emily said bluntly. “I
don’t think the situation is serious, Francis. Dimitri Carvelli was
injured.”
“We cannot afford to be optimistic,” Francis said
severely. “If the mob wants the witness to Cathy’s murder silenced, they
may send someone to finish what Dimitri started.”
All eyes turned to Jennifer.
“I’ll stay with Jennifer,” Bertha said casually.
“It’s quiet in Chicago,” Francis said. “I can’t get
a word on what is happening from my usual sources. If you see strangers
lurking about, they may prove as dangerous as Dimitri, or our only
salvation, depending on how the mob decides to call the shots. If you see
suspicious men following you, or watching, pretend not to see them, but
defend your lives with deadly force if the need arises.”
“If it comes down to that,” Emily said grimly, “shoot
to kill. Remember to make it a head shot. If you shoot to wound a man,
you’re liable to feed your bullet to Kevlar, and they’ll be laughing at
you when they shoot back.
“I’ve tried to teach you all a few basic street
fighting moves,” Emily added. “Keep your hat pins on your person, and
your pepper spray clipped to your purse strap. And whatever you do, do
not attract the attention of the police. Look and behave ordinary.”
“Ordinary?” Bertha said. They all looked around at
one another and laughed nervously.
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