Festival of Deaths(99)

Sarah Meyer saw Shelley Feldstein and smiled.

Shelley Feldstein reached into the pocket of her coat, pulled out the diary, held it in the air and smiled back.

Sarah Meyer’s jaw dropped open far enough to let Dumbo the Elephant crawl into her mouth.





THREE


1


BENNIS HANNAFORD WAS WAITING at the top of the front steps, outside in the cold, when Gregor Demarkian and John Jackman drove up. They were riding in a standard city of Philadelphia police car, but without the siren running. John Jackman had let the siren rip once on Cavanaugh Street. Gregor had threatened to tell the papers something cute about him if he ever did it again. He even threatened to invent the something cute. Philadelphia Homicide Detective Wears Dinosaur Pajamas to Bed. Right. It would be beautiful. Gregor looked out the window at Bennis with her arms wrapped around her knees and her breath blowing white in the cold. It was already dark. Up and down Cavanaugh Street, amber lights glowed steadily in curtained windows. Streetlights cast harsh circles of white on the icy pavement. It was hard-cold and nasty, without gentleness. Gregor didn’t think there would be snow for Christmas. He looked up at the facade of his building and saw that the lights in his own living room were on. He checked out the Christmas wreaths and Hanukkah menorahs arranged in clusters near his front door and saw that they were backlit with tiny Christmas lights. He wondered where Donna Moradanyan had found an outlet to plug them in. The police car braked to a full stop, causing him to bounce against his seat belt. John Jackman leaned across him, saw Bennis sitting on the stairs, and said, “Oh, shit.”

“The sentiment is probably mutual,” Gregor told him drily. “Come on. Let’s get it over with. We’ve got work to do.”

“We don’t have any work to do that couldn’t be done at my office.”

“Come on.”

Gregor got his door open, thanked the uniformed driver, and got out onto the pavement. Bennis stood up and started to come down the stairs to him. A few seconds later, she saw John Jackman and stopped.

There was nothing to do about this but bull through it. Gregor had bulled his way through meetings with J. Edgar Hoover himself. He’d even bulled his way through a couple with Richard Nixon. Why did dealing with Bennis always seem so much harder? He walked up to the stoop and started to climb the stairs.

“Bennis,” he said. “I thought you’d be gone by now. I thought you were going to be on your way to New York or Paris.”

“Tomorrow,” Bennis said vaguely. She was looking at John Jackman. “I was supposed to leave tomorrow.”

“Hello, Bennis,” John Jackman said.

“Hello, John.” She turned away and looked toward Gregor for the first time since she had realized that Jackman was with him. “Except now it seems I’m not. Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Gregor took her by the elbow, turned her around, and moved her up the stairs. Her skin felt thick, like gelatin congealed. She was that cold. “I thought it was definite,” he said. “I thought you wanted to get away.”

“Well, I do.” Bennis was letting herself be pushed. “I even called the travel agent. I even started to pack.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Problem,” Bennis repeated. “Well. Do you know a woman named Helena Oumoudian?”

“Oh, yes. She’s Sofie Oumoudian’s aunt. Sofie goes out with Joey—”

“Ohanian. Yes, Gregor, I know. Well, she’s in my living room.”

“Why?”

“Because Sofie Oumoudian and Father Tibor put her there,” Bennis said. “She’s got a fractured hip.”

“She’s got a fractured hip and she made it up to your apartment? Up the stoop flight and then to the second floor?”

“No. She broke her hip this afternoon. At old George’s place. They sent for the doctor.”

“That was good.” They had reached the front door. Gregor tried the knob, found that the door had been left unlocked—again—and stepped back to let Bennis go in before him. He tried to let John Jackman in before him, too, but John wasn’t having any. John wanted to take up the rear. “I don’t understand,” he said to Bennis. “If she broke her hip at old George’s place—how did she break her hip at old George’s place?”

“She and George were doing the tango. George was, you know, lowering her down to the floor.”

“How’s George?”

“Contrite.”

Gregor checked the mail table and noted that his mail had been retrieved already—Bennis was always doing that, so that she could check the return addresses—and that the space where the huge menorah had been was now taken up by an equally huge Santa in his sleigh. Fortunately, the reindeer were not along.