Festival of Deaths(95)

“No,” Lotte said.

“I don’t blame you,” Gregor said, and Lotte found herself thinking that he was a very attractive man. Not physically attractive, exactly—he could take off some weight—but attractive in his person. “Are you going to go in to talk to the doctors now?” he asked her. “Do you have a couple of minutes to talk to us?”

Lotte looked back at Carmencita’s room. She would, of course, have to talk to the doctors. She would have to see Carmencita and comfort Itzaak. She had always hated hospitals. She had always hated sickness, too, and she had a positive phobia about death. Maybe that was why she did a television show about sex. She was old enough to be of that generation that still connected the act of sex with making babies. Making babies was the ultimate commitment to life. She turned back to Gregor Demarkian.

“I don’t have to go there now,” she said. “What is it you wanted to ask me? When Carmencita was hurt I was—”

“At your brother David’s,” Gregor said. “I know. It isn’t about Carmencita I wanted to talk to you. It’s about Maria Gonzalez and Maximillian Dey.”

“I don’t think the police are really looking into the death of Maria Gonzalez,” Lotte said. “DeAnna and I have been very disturbed about it. We were going to ask you—”

“To investigate?” Gregor nodded. “That probably would have been impossible, you know. It took place in another city. The police would have been hostile to any intrusion from me—at least from what I’ve heard.”

“The policeman in charge of the case is a bigot and a fool.”

“Yes,” Gregor said. “Well. Let’s not worry about that for a moment. Were you told anything at all about the police investigation into the death of Maria Gonzalez?”

“A little.”

“Were you told whether anything was found in her pockets? Driver’s license. Social security card. Anything—”

“It was all gone,” Lotte said. “We were told all about that. Her purse was gone. It was in the papers.”

“They never found anything of the sort that normally goes into a wallet? Social security card? Green card?”

“Oh, no. We would have heard about it, I think.”

“All right,” Gregor said, “now think for a moment about Maximillian Dey. I have heard from several people that on the night you all left New York, he had his pocket picked.”

“Oh, yes. He was complaining about it nonstop.”

“He had his wallet stolen.”

“Exactly.”

“Would you know if his green card was in that wallet?”

“Of course I would know,” Lotte said. “Anybody would. Max complained bitterly about all the expense and fuss it was going to take to replace it. I even offered to loan him the money for the service fees. What was expensive to Max would not, of course, have been expensive to me. But he only wanted to complain. He was not truly interested in seeking help. Which was of course his privilege.”

“Of course,” Gregor agreed. “But you’re sure. His green card was in that wallet?”

“I’m positive.”

“Fine. Let’s look at something else. You came to the United States from Israel. Do you ever go back?”

“Oh, yes. Every other year or so. I have friends there.”

“Has anybody else on your staff been to Israel in the last, say, two or three years?”

“Is this about the dreidels?” Lotte asked him. “I’ve been very worried about those dreidels. They aren’t the kind of thing I buy. Although I have a dreidel. A big one. It’s enameled. I keep it in my apartment in New York.”

“I’m a little worried about the dreidels,” Gregor said. “But I’m not yet sure in what way. Had anybody on your staff been to Israel in the last two or three years?”

“DeAnna came with me about three years ago,” Lotte said. “She met a man. DeAnna will be the first to tell you that men are useless, but she always meets a man. She’s that kind of women. Men are attracted to her. Her daughters came with us.”

“Anybody else?”

“Sarah Meyer,” Lotte said hesitantly. “I’m not sure, though, when it was. It might have been more like five years ago. She went with her mother. If you want my opinion, Sarah would be a much more pleasant person if she never went anywhere with her mother.”

“Itzaak also came here from Israel,” Gregor said. “Has he been back?”

“Not that I know of.”

“What about the others? What about Shelley Feldstein?”