Getting Old is a Disaster Page 23

She runs back to the bedroom with the two of us racing after her. She indicates the open closet door. In the corner is a large suitcase.

  “At first I thought it was just parked there, but when I started to move it, it was heavy.”

  Pull it out,” Ida says excitedly. “Maybe that’s where he hides his stuff.”

  “Carefully,” I say, “watch exactly how it was placed in the closet.”

  Evvie tries to lift it. She can’t. I help her pull it out. “Fingers crossed,” I say as I reach for the snaps to open it.

  I try a few times, but it’s locked. “Bad luck. I bet he has the key with him.”

  We are let down.

  I feel for an outside pocket. “Wait, there’s something...” I pull out a long, narrow, black leather folder and open it.

  “Oh, my God,” Evvie says, over my shoulder. “Airline tickets. To where? When?”

  “Buenos Aires,” I read. “Tonight. Late.”

  “We knew it! We knew he was up to something. He’s gonna make a run for it.” Evvie jumps up and down in excitement. “No wonder we couldn’t find anything personal. Everything he owns must be in here!”

  Ida leans over me, squinting without her glasses. “What’s his name?” she demands of me.

  Disappointed, I tell her, “It says Abe Waller on tickets and passport.”

  “Damn,” says Evvie. “And we dare not break the lock open.”

  I dig deeper into the fold. Something is lodged down there. I pull it out. It’s a small patch of cloth wrapped around a signet ring. Evvie grabs the patch; Ida, the ring.

  “There’s a large cross on here,” Evvie says. “And one on the ring.”

  “I’ve seen this before,” Evvie says, “in movies.” “It’s called the Iron Cross,” I say in wonder. “I read about it a long time ago. I think it’s the highest award German soldiers ever get.”

  We look at one another, happily astonished, big smiles on our faces.

  I look on the back of the Iron Cross patch. “We’ve got him!” I say. “There’s a number. I bet somewhere there’s a match with his real name. We’ve got to copy down the number.”

  Evvie grins happily, grabbing the patch from me so she can examine it more thoroughly.

  My cell phone rings. Evvie actually jumps. The three of us stare at the instrument with foreboding. He can’t be back! He mustn’t! I answer. Sophie and Bella are screaming into our ears. “He just drove in! He’s back! Get out! Get out!”

  At the same time we can hear Joe shouting Evvie’s name from Enya’s rear sunporch.

  I feel like I’m moving in slow motion as I shove the black folder back into the side pocket.

  Ida is quietly hysterical. “I don’t remember which way the suitcase went in!”

  Evvie, breathless, pushes it in the corner.

  “The zipper part was in back!” I say, terrified now. “Wasn’t it?” Evvie’s not sure, but we’re out of time and we leave it.

  We close the closet and run from the bedroom to the Florida room. Please, God, don’t fail us now.

  What a crazy idea, I think, looking at our escape route. What could I possibly have been thinking! We have to climb through the windows where screens used to be and jump two feet over air to get next door.

  Trying to hide his fear, Joe thrusts his arms out Enya’s window as far as he can reach, and grabs Evvie by her forearms as she balances herself on the window ledge. She looks down at the empty area between both screened porches.

  “Don’t look down,” Joe says, too late. “When I say three, jump toward me!”

  Evvie looks at us, eyes wild, then to Joe.

  Ida and I hold our breath as Evvie jumps. Joe pulls her through Enya’s side window, but for a moment, it looks like Evvie is flying.

  All I can think is, I’m looking at a seventy-five- year-old man’s flabby arms, unused to exercise, along with his arthritic hands. Will he have the strength to pull all three of us?

  Ida gives me a panicky look, and then focuses on Joe. She bends her knees, waits until Joe has her arms in his grasp. She leaps out and up toward him. She’s so fast, the two of them fall backwards into the room.

  Now it’s my turn, and Joe’s arms are shaking from the strain. I call to him, “Joe, get Ev and Ida behind you, and have them both hold on to your waist. Hurry.”

  He doesn’t stop to question me; he understands how weak he is now. He turns inside to tell the girls.

  My eyes dart toward the front of Abe’s apartment, expecting any second for him to come in and find me there with no place to hide.

  Joe turns back to me. “They’re ready.”

  I step out on the ledge. I look down in spite of myself. If I fall I’ll probably break my neck drop-ping two stories, or at least my legs.

  I reach my arms out. Joe grabs on to them, gripping me as tightly as he can. He looks at me and I can see the fear there. He counts to three.

  I jump.

  And miss Enya’s window ledge. Suddenly I’m hanging straight down, with nothing but air under me. I feel Joe’s arms sliding down my arms, to my hands. I clutch his hands tightly.

  “Pull!” Joe screams to Evvie and Ida behind him. “Pull me inside!”

  Within seconds I am jerked up the side of the building and into the room, just as Joe loses his grip.

  All four of us fall to the floor, one on top of the other, panting breathlessly.

  My stomach and legs are scratched and bloody from bouncing off the building. But at least I’m in one piece.

  Evvie throws her arms around Joe, laughing and crying at the same time. “My hero,” she says, hugging him tightly.

  I see Enya standing in the doorway, holding her breath.

  “I’m all right,” I tell her to allay her fears.

  “The bastard came back early,” Ida mutters. “Why?”

  Joe tries to calm us as well as himself. “But it’s okay, you got out safely. And you left everything the way it was. Right?”

  “I think so,” Ida says unsteadily.

  Evvie stares down at her hands. “Oh, no,” she cries out. We look at her, still clutching the small patch of cloth in her left hand. The small patch with its distinctive Iron Cross.

  Engaged

  Hearing a commotion coming from downstairs, we hurry to the living room window and stare out and down. A group of people are gathered and chattering directly under us.

  Ida says, “They’re circling around Abe’s car.”

  “Something’s blocking our view. I can’t see what it is,” says Evvie.

  Ida points. “Look over there. It’s Abe. And he’s talking to Jack!”

  Abe is still downstairs? With Jack? What’s going on?

  Evvie rushes to the front door. “I can’t stand it. I’ve got to see what’s happening.” She opens the door and rushes out onto the landing.

  Ida and I are right behind her. Not only can we see, over the balcony, but we can easily hear. I feel Joe and Enya peeking over my shoulder. I can see

  Sophie and Bella standing near my car, watching anxiously.

  Jack, my ex-cop, seems to be in charge. I hear him say to Abe, “I can’t imagine how it happened.” He looks around. “Anybody see how this big thing got here?”

  What a sight before our eyes. A huge garbage Dumpster that, according to the letter on its side, belongs to R building has somehow managed to roll forward and smash the front of Abe’s Pontiac, denting the hood severely.

  Abe is angry, but he’s trying to hide it. “How is it possible? That Dumpster is always at the side of the building. How could it get from there to here?”

  Lots of surprised shrugs. Apparently, none of the gawkers had seen anything, since no one ventures forth with information.

  Evvie whispers to me, “Jack must have done it. He stopped Abe from coming upstairs.”

  “Yes,” I say, choked up. He might not have approved of what I was doing, but he wasn’t about to let anything happen to me, either. But I shudder to think what would have happened if Jack hadn’t
been watching our backs. We’ve just had a very close call.

  “I’m a witness,” says a familiar voice behind me. I hadn’t even heard Hy approach us from his apartment down the walkway.

  We turn. “What?” I say, nervously.

  Hy speaks very softly. “Your boyfriend is the culprit. I saw him roll the Dumpster over earlier, and as soon as Abe drove in Jack leaned down behind the Dumpster and pushed it hard. Anybody want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Oh, no, I think to myself. Not Hy, the town crier!

  A chorus of six (which includes Joe) says in unison, “No!”

  Hy performs a zipping motion across his lips. “No problem. Your secret is safe with me. If Jack is into car demolition, he must have a very good reason. Let me in on it when you’re ready.”

  He pauses, and grins. “Here’s a joke for you. Husband comes home. His wife’s wearing a sexy negligee and is all tied up with ropes. She says, seductively, ‘You can do anything you want to do.’ So he walks back out and goes to play golf.” He laughs at his own joke. “I got dozens more. Saving ’em for tonight’s engagement party!” With that he struts back toward his open door; where Lola stands watching.

  Ida says, “I can hardly wait.”

  We hear Jack saying in a loud voice, “Just call your insurance company, Abe. Bye, see you later.” He’s warning us. Abe is climbing up the stairs. We scurry back inside, fast!

  Once inside, Joe asks, “What do we do now?”

  “Talk to your Jack,” Enya says. “He’ll know.”

  I lie on my couch with a cold compress on my eyes and forehead. I have a bad headache that makes me see stars; it hurts that much. My left eye keeps twitching and it won’t stop. Jack brings me another wet towel to exchange for the one I have. “Feel any better?” he asks.

  “No,” I groan.

  “Maybe if we talk about it, your pain will go away.”

  “Ouch,” I mutter. “I doubt it.”

  “You can’t go to your party like this, so let’s try. I’ll start first. I want to tell you how 1 feel. Waiting helplessly downstairs while I knew you were in Abe’s apartment reminded me of Faye. I finally truly understand—I mean, I thought I understood, but I didn’t, viscerally—what Faye felt all those years being married to a cop. She told me she would worry every day, with panic rising—would I come home, still in one piece, or would it be one of my pals from the precinct at the door; to tell her how I died.”

  I lift the compress and turn my throbbing head to see him better.

  “Today, I was Faye. Waiting to see if you came out alive. I couldn’t stand it. In all my years as a cop, I was never as afraid as I was this morning.”

  I weakly reach over to take his hand in mine. “I’m sorry I put you through that. But I felt I had to do it. And we succeeded. We have proof. Finally.” I look at him, pleadingly. “Doesn’t the end justify the means?”

  “Glad, that’s not the point. It could have ended very badly, and—”

  I interrupt. “But didn’t you push the Dumpster into his car? And bought us time to escape? Wouldn’t you say you broke the law a bit, too? Didn’t the end justify the means then, too?”

  He sits me down and pulls me close. “I wouldn’t be able to stand it if I lost you.”

  “Please say you forgive me. Please?”

  He crushes me closer. “I do, but promise never to scare me like that again.”

  “I do. I do.” We rock back and forth in each other’s arms. This is no time to tell him about how I got scratches on my body.

  A few moments later, he asks, “How’s the headache? How do you feel now?”

  I think about it. My headache is nearly gone. “Better. Much better.”

  I kiss him long and hard. “I absolutely give you permission to save my life any chance you get.”

  I make two phone calls.

  “Morrie. Big news. We have the proof we need on Abe.” I fill him in on the iron cross without mentioning where and how I got it—later for that. And also about Abe’s plane reservations.

  Morrie says, “I’ll alert the airline not to let him on the plane tonight.”

  “You’ve got to catch him before he can get out of the country.”

  “I’m on it,” Morrie says.

  The second call is to Stanley. “Can you meet us at the clubhouse an hour before our party? Without Esther?”

  “What? Is something wrong?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Something is very wrong.”

  We need to inform Stanley before the police do.

  Showdown

  So here we are in the clubhouse, dressed in our finest. We, who live in sundresses and shorts, had to dig through our closets for cocktail dresses and heels. I’m wearing a peach organza dress, last worn for my daughter Emily’s wedding, in New York. It still fits, thank goodness. Evvie is wearing a multi-colored caftan-type dress, all swirly, with lots of folds. Sophie and Bella have matching lemon and lime outfits they bought for a bar mitzvah years ago. Sophie tugs at her dress, realizing she’s gained a few pounds since the last time she wore it.

  And Ida—well, Ida owns one basic black dress, and that’s that. We were going to go shopping, but what with Enya’s problem, we decided to make do with what we had. Frankly, I’m just as pleased. I confess, I don’t like shopping. And besides, Jack, having never seen me dressed up, whistled when I modeled the peach number to get his opinion.

  Jack looks wonderful in a dark suit and tie. Joe, who insists he threw out every tie he owned when he moved here, wears a sports jacket.

  We’re surrounded by cheerful decorations put up by an energetic, romantic group of Phase Two friends. Lots of balloons and greeting cards with congratulations. There is a large shoji-type screen off to one side with smiling photos they’ve gathered of me, then Jack, then both of us together. The catered food sits on tables, waiting for the party to begin.

  We may be dressed for a party but anxiety is the group emotion. The seven of us are standing, facing the front door, waiting for Stanley. Enya, dressed simply in a beige dress, sits on a chair, all by herself, away from us. There is a strange kind of calm about her. What must she be thinking?

  Stanley will arrive any minute. I’m not looking forward to breaking this man’s heart.

  There’s the expected knock on the door and Stanley enters, a puzzled look on his face. “Esther doesn’t know why she should stay home and I come an hour earlier.”

  “You’ll explain later,” I tell him.

  Stanley looks from one face to another. He sees worry, concern, fear, nervousness. “I better sit down.” He uses one of the folding chairs facing us. “You all look like somebody died.”

  Jack moves behind me and rubs my shoulders. I take a deep breath. “Someone did die, but it was fifty years ago. And we found his skeleton recently.”

  Stanley is ready to smile. “You’ve solved it, haven’t you?” He half stands, about to come for-ward. “Congratulations.”

  “Don’t!” Evvie blurts. “Please sit back down.” Startled, Stanley lowers his body once more, worry furrowing his brows.

  I go on. “Stanley, dear, I have to warn you, it’s taken us a while to be able to believe what we now know, and I expect it will be very difficult for you to accept. But we found proof.”

  Bella nervously needs to get water from the drinks table. I wait until she comes back. This time, she takes a seat. I can see her trembling.

  “You know the name of the dead body?” Stanley asks eagerly.

  “Yes.” I close my eyes for a moment, not wanting to see the expression that will be on his face in a moment. “Abe Waller.”

  A deadly silence sinks in. Sophie gasps as Stanley clutches the sides of the flimsy wooden chair for support. His face has gone pale.

  Bella rushes forward to give him her water, but he shakes his arms in refusal.

  “What do you mean?” He is alarmed now. “What can you possibly mean?”

  I twist around to Jack and indicate that he should take over.
>
  “It means,” Jack says, “that the man who murdered Johnny Blake in Tampa, and took his identity, murdered another man, that night at your construction site. His next victim was a survivor of the camps who tracked down the Nazi who killed his family—”

  A new voice interrupts, “Very bad manners to talk about a person behind his back.”

  We all spin around quickly, to see an unfamiliar man standing in the doorway. He enters and shuts the door behind him. It takes a few moments to realize the large, slightly bent over, clean shaven, no longer bearded man, sporting a barber-styled hair-cut and wearing a tan suit and tie, is the man we’ve known as Abe Waller. Now that I can see the face, it’s an ordinary face, but it reveals hardness. He’s no longer wearing glasses, and the scar that circles his left eye is faded, but still identifiable. I glance at his hands and, to my horror, he’s wearing the signet ring.

  Stanley looks mystified, unable to comprehend what he sees.

  “There I was, ready to take my leave, when I see my dear friend Stanley hurrying to the clubhouse, looking very perturbed. I couldn’t resist following him.”

  Stanley, now realizing who this apparition is, almost falls off his chair as he jumps up. “No!” he shouts, righting himself. “This cannot be.”

  I look at Enya, who remains calm amid the chaos in the room. Bella and Sophie are clutching each other. Ida and Evvie are rigid, eyes darting. Joe takes a few steps, bringing him next to Evvie. Jack removes his hands from my shoulders and I can practically feel his body move into alert mode.

  He takes a stance in front of us. “Jack, dearest,” I whisper desperately to his back, “don’t do anything foolish.”

  The man we knew as Abe moves to the side of the room. I see what Jack sees. The Nazi is nearing Enya.

  He smiles. “You might as well hear it, from what you call the horse’s mouth. As you probably guessed, I came back to Lanai Gardens all those years ago, to make sure Abe Waller’s body hadn’t been unearthed.”

  I look at Stanley, hoping he won’t have a heart attack. Stanley appears numb.

  I wonder what Jack is thinking. We didn’t expect this. But we should have.