Polterheist(23)

"Merry Christmas," I said.

"It's been a hell of a week."

"How did the press find out about the second truck, if the Fensters weren't reporting the robbery?" I asked.

"Freddie Junior told people about it. He's also how the press first got ‘tipped' that the Gambellos are behind this."

"Why did he tell people?" I asked in confusion. "If the Fensters were trying to keep this a secret-"

"I don't know why!" Lopez realized he'd snapped at me and said, "Sorry. But have you met Freddie? It's like talking to porridge that's been sent to an expensive prep school."

"Yes," I agreed with a startled laugh, "that's exactly what it's like."

"Preston Fenster is in favor of letting the police handle this now." Lopez scowled as he added, "But he doesn't have control of the family, and they're not all on board with the crazy notion of bringing in cops to investigate a series of armed robberies."

"Why not?"

"Because they're idiots!" He added, "But you can't tell anyone I said that."

"Are they giving you any reasons?"

"For being idiots?" he grumbled.

"For not wanting the police involved," I said patiently.

"Well, Helen Fenster-Thorpe seems to think that negotiation is the way to deal with armed robbers, and the police should just stay out of it and leave this problem to the professionals. So I suppose she's one big reason no one called us."

"What would she negotiate for?" I asked in puzzlement. "I mean, it's not as if the hijackers are trying to do business with Fenster's, is it? They just disappeared with all the merchandise, according to Arthur."

"Arthur," Lopez said with a scowl. "I can't help feeling he's got to be the evil mastermind behind this whole thing."

"Evil?" I blurted involuntarily, having the subject on my mind today.

"It seems like he has to be the bad guy. He's the least likely person, which is always the one whodunit." He added sheepishly, "And you especially can't tell anyone I said that, Esther."

"I won't," I promised. "It's not a convincing theory, it's just evidence that you read too much Agatha Christie."

"I like Agatha Christie," he said. "I find her books relaxing."

I leaned back in my chair, also trying (without success) to get comfortable. "Tell me, Miss Marple, is there anything other than Arthur's cunningly obsequious personality that makes him a suspect? Does he-do any of the Fensters-have a motive?" A bright idea occurred to me, courtesy of Crime and Punishment. "Hey, could this be an insurance scam?"

"No, they're having trouble with their insurance claim because they didn't report the first two heists." He shrugged. "And our accountant thinks they're under-insured, anyhow. This seems to be due to cash flow problems-problems that are being made worse by losing three big loads of merchandise in the busiest shopping weeks of the year."

"So I guess it's not an inside job?" I said. "Not unless the Fensters are trying to commit collective fiscal suicide."

"In all honesty, I think their business acumen will ensure their collective fiscal suicide," he said. "But I do think there must be someone on the inside. These heists are very smooth. Planned and executed well. Someone knows which trucks have the most valuable merchandise, when they're on the road, and which part of their route is the most vulnerable-where no one will see the hijacking. It's not easy to escape in a huge, heavily loaded truck, after all, if someone witnesses you seizing it at gunpoint and calls the cops right away."

"That's why you're looking at Fenster employees," I realized. "You think someone who has access to that sort of information could be involved."

"So we've got to analyze Fenster's operations," he said with a nod. "Figure out how many different ways there are to access that information and then figure out who can get to it . . ." Lopez started to look discouraged. "In a flagship store the size of a small country, with hundreds of employees and lax security, plus satellite stores and an internet business . . ."

"I'm guessing you might not be home for Christmas?" I said.

"I won't be home for Christmas anyhow," he replied. "I'm scheduled for a ten-hour shift that day."

"Who did you piss off?"

Lopez smiled and shook his head. "I'm single and don't have kids. That pretty much makes Christmas Day my shift, along with any Jewish cops on the squad."

"Oh, I see." He may not have a wife and children, but I knew his parents still lived in Nyack, a suburb across the Hudson River, where Lopez had grown up. They probably thought his living so close to them, here in the city, meant they'd get to see their youngest son on holidays. "Are your parents disappointed?"

"They're used to it by now. It's been this way most years since I joined the force. I always go out to their place right after I get off work, so I'm there for Christmas night. That's when we have dinner and exchange gifts."

"You go out to Nyack after a ten hour shift?"

"It's better than hearing the recriminations if I don't go," he said with a wry smile. "Anyhow, I like to go home at Christmas. I don't mind the trip."

I knew that his family was close, so that didn't surprise me.

There was a long moment of companionable silence, and I realized, not for the first time, how much I missed him.

But I didn't seem to be good for him. And, more to the point, I had nearly gotten him killed at least twice. Maybe three times, depending on how you looked at things. In any event, there was not going to be another time.

"Would he be lying in agonized paralysis awaiting his death now if not for you?"

I drew in a sharp breath when my imagination replayed those memories, sending a familiar and unwelcome chill through me.

Get out of my head, you murdering bitch, I thought.

"Are you all right?" Lopez asked me, noticing my sudden shift of mood.

"Huh? Oh. Um, tired, I guess." I glanced at the clock. "I think I'll hang up my pointy ears for the night and go."

"You're sure you don't want a lift home?" he asked, standing up. "Because I can easily-"

"No. I could use some air. The walk to the subway will do me good." That statement had the merit of being true.

Thinking of another bitch who had rattled me tonight, I said to Lopez as we left Miles' office, "And thanks for, you know, helping me out with Elspeth. She . . . she kind of gives me the creeps. And not just because she's one of the crazy people who made my life so needlessly interesting during The Vampyre."

Lopez grunted in agreement. "Meeting a girl like her almost makes me scared of having kids. I mean, what if they turn out like her?"

"Is your mother still nagging you for grandchildren?" I asked, guessing what had put the thought of having kids in Lopez's mind.

"Oh, only every time she gets the chance. It's become a mania with her. Especially since Tim and Michael are sticking to their stories. Those bastards."

I knew that he had two brothers, each of whom had invented a pretext to shut their parents up about grandkids. One had recently decided to claim he was gay, and the other said he was contemplating the priesthood. These lies struck me as short-term thinking, destined to be unmasked over time; but apparently they were holding up so far. Which left Lopez to bear all the parental pressure alone on this front.

"But I have to admit," I said, "meeting Elspeth's father makes me appreciate my own dad." I wasn't close to my father, but he was an okay guy. We didn't really connect, but I knew he meant well. "Actually, meeting the whole Fenster family makes me glad to have the family I've got-which doesn't happen that often. I might even call Wisconsin when I get home and say hello to my parents."

Probably I'd come to my senses and do no such thing; conversation with my mother usually makes me so tense I can't relax for hours afterwards. But it was rather nice to feel a nostalgic twinge of missing my family. It was a rare event, and rather pleasant.

I smiled as I added to Lopez, "Or maybe the sentimentality of your gentile season of love and joy is just getting to me this year."

"It must be the Christmas spirit at Fenster's," he said dryly. "Oh! By the way, Happy belated Hanukkah, Esther."

"Thank you." It had been over for a week.

"Did you do anything special for it?"

"I was working here the whole time. I sang Hanukkah songs for the crowds, but I only know three. Well, two and a half, really. So it got a little monotonous."

"Oh. I'm guessing you have to know more Christmas songs than that for this job?"

"Yes. Luckily, I do know a lot of those. I went to public schools, and I sang in the choir every year." I shrugged. "And it would be just churlish to try to pretend that Christmas doesn't have lots of great music, after all. I like Christmas carols."

"Do you do anything for Christmas?" he asked curiously.

"Well, given the hours I've been working lately, I think this year I'll probably just sleep all day. But I usually follow the Diamond family tradition of watching some movies and then getting Chinese food." I added, "Christmas is kind of a bond between Jews and Chinese for that reason."