Festival of Deaths(75)

“She thinks we’re a pair of dirty old men,” Tibor had said in shock as they left the apartment the last time.

The only ray of hope Gregor saw in the entire situation was that she apparently thought they were interesting dirty old men. That was why she had asked them back to lunch.

“You’re the one who should worry,” Tibor told Gregor. “I’m a widower. Widowed priests cannot remarry in our church.”

“Widowed FBI agents aren’t interested in changing their marital status at Christmas,” Gregor said. “Don’t worry about it. Joey will be the perfect match for Sofie. Assuming it ever gets that far.”

“It is better not to ask how far it has gotten,” Tibor said. “At least, not these days.”

Approaching the Oumoudians’ street, Gregor saw that a few more people had made an effort to spruce things up for the holiday. Cavanaugh Street was already about as spruced up as anybody could stand. Sometime while Gregor was talking to Bennis or hidden away in his own apartment, Howard Kashinian had come and moved the menorah to its place in front of the church. Donna had been harder at work than that, however. All the light poles had been wrapped, barber-pole fashion, in red and green ribbons. Bagdesarian’s Middle Eastern Import Store had a big silver bow in its plate glass window. Ohanian’s Middle Eastern Food Store had a pyramid of ornate, enameled dreidels right next to the pile of karabich cookies it kept to the right of the door. Dreidels. Gregor was thoroughly tired of dreidels.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket—when he lived in Washington, it was customary for men to go without coats, no matter how cold the weather, because a suit without a coat was considered “more professional”—and said, “So, Tibor. Have you thought about it? What are we going to do about Bennis?”

“Of course I have thought about it,” Tibor said. “I have thought ever since you called. And what we should do about it is obvious.”

“Is it?”

“Of course. We must stop her from leaving tomorrow. Tomorrow is much too soon. It doesn’t give us any time.”

“I know it doesn’t. Have you ever tried to stop Bennis when there was something she wanted to do?”

“I know, Krekor.”

“Under ordinary circumstances, getting me involved in a murder investigation would keep Bennis at my side like a hangnail, but these aren’t ordinary circumstances.”

“In these circumstances, it is the murder investigation that is the problem.”

“Not the murder investigation,” Gregor corrected, “who’s conducting the murder investigation.”

“Which is too bad,” Tibor said, “because John Jackman is a very nice man and a very good police officer and also he will do what you want him to do.”

“I don’t think we can do anything directly,” Gregor said. “I think she’d suspect something.”

“I do, too,” Tibor said. “But I do not know who to ask, Krekor. I do not trust Donna Moradanyan. She would tell.”

“Yes, she probably would. And Lida would be bad at it.”

“And Hannah Krekorian would tell everybody in the neighborhood and it would get back.” Tibor sighed. “This is a difficulty, Krekor. This is an impossibility.”

“No it isn’t,” Gregor said.

“What do you mean?”

Gregor felt much better. He felt much better. “You do agree that the problem is that Bennis should not be left alone?”

“Of course.”

“Especially at Christmas?”

“This is indubitable.”

“Fine, Tibor, fine. We need about three extra days. I know just how we’re going to get them, too.”

“How?” Tibor asked.

They were at the building that housed the Oumoudians’ apartment. They were coming up the steps just as Sofie Oumoudian was opening the front door. Sofie looked harassed.

“Quick,” she said. “My aunt has been excited all day. She can hardly wait to talk to you.”

Gregor Demarkian grinned. “Well, that’s better than I thought we were going to get. I thought your aunt was going to refuse to have anything to do with us. Two unsavory characters. Mixed up with the police.”

“So-fi-aaaa,” a thin high voice called from up the stairs.

Sofie looked in the direction of the noise with exasperation. “She may kidnap you,” she warned. “It’s all she’s been talking about since last night. She’s beside herself.”

“She was beside herself the last time,” Tibor said.

“The last time she was nervous. Please. Father. Mr. Demarkian. Please hurry. She keeps saying she wants to hear about every drop of blood.”