27. Maddie #2
“Nobody has visited this library,” she says. “My son is having a good time, though. He likes all the books they’ve read in the reading circle.”
“I’ll come up and relieve you,” I say to Tasha.
Nick looks conflicted. “I have to leave.” He’s playing in Hoboken tonight, and tomorrow they’re the first act in Jersey City. “Please be careful.”
“I will,” I say.
He gives me a look like he has his doubts but hugs me goodbye and jogs off to return to his apartment while I take the subway up to meet Tasha.
As I enter the library uptown in Harlem, Tasha’s son is sitting in a circle listening to the librarian read The Family Book , and Tasha is holding the baby.
I walk up to Tasha, who gives me the cold shoulder.
I realize I look like some elderly tourist from California.
I forgot to tell her I was in disguise. I text her. She looks up, shocked.
“Wow, I didn’t recognize you at all. That costume is so good,” Tasha says, peering closely at me, and then rocks her baby. “She just woke up.”
The baby looks like she’s about to cry. Tasha distracts her with a puppet.
“Thank you so much for staking out the library. I feel bad that you’re doing this with the kids.”
“We’re all pretty fed up with these crappy repairs.
The wind whistles right through my windows, and I caulked them again, but this is something maintenance should be doing.
She had a cold last week, and I worry it’s because the apartment is too cold at night because all the heat is escaping,” Tasha says.
“And to be honest, this has been a relaxing day for me. My son made a red lantern during the craft activities earlier for Chinese New Year. Now he’s happily listening to the stories. ”
“Still, thank you,” I say. We make a plan for how to catch Beatrice in the act if she ever shows up.
Distraction will be the name of the game.
Tasha reassures me that she’s perfected this as a mom.
I pull the extra envelope out of my bag in case I am able to pickpocket the current envelope.
I’m hoping that with this replacement envelope, they won’t immediately notice the switch.
“But how can we give this envelope back to her to replace the one I took, so that she doesn’t immediately suspect anything?” I ask. “I know how to pickpocket, but not how to put a different envelope back in her pocket.”
“Let’s give this envelope to my son to hold.
I will pretend that my three-year-old son has just pulled the original envelope out of her back pocket and then I’ll hand this replacement envelope back to her.
She often has candy in her back pocket or her bag for the kids, so it’s not actually unusual that sometimes the kids inspect her pockets to see if she has any candy.
She just treats it as a game, usually. One thing I will say for Beatrice is that she does love children,” Tasha says.
“It makes it a lot harder to actively dislike her.”
She tells her son that they are going to play a game. “You have to hide this envelope under your shirt, and then when I ask you where the envelope is, you pull it out, okay?”
“Okay,” he says.
“Remember when your daddy showed you those magic tricks?” Tasha asks. “This is like one of those magic tricks. We’re going to pretend you took the envelope from Beatrice, but really, you had it under your shirt. Like when Daddy hid that card in his sleeve. Do you understand?”
He looks puzzled, but he says that he can hide the envelope and then give it to his mom when she asks for it.
“There’s Beatrice!” I move quickly away from Tasha and disappear down an aisle. I put in my earplugs and pick up Tasha’s call.
“She’s going into the romance aisle. It’s two aisles down,” Tasha says.
I wait in the aisle with the books on reserve. Beatrice enters the aisle. Yes!
Tasha: I’m in the aisle next to you.
I busy myself with looking at a romance. I put on the rearview spy glasses that Nick gave me. I can see Beatrice. These work so well.
Beatrice pulls a thick envelope out of her handbag and sticks it into the book while removing a thin envelope out of the book.
I text Tasha.
Me: Now.
Before she puts that envelope in her purse.
Tasha enters the aisle with the baby and her son. Beatrice hastily shoves the envelope in her back pocket.
“Beatrice,” Tasha says. “The windows need to be caulked. You promised you’d send someone last week, and you still haven’t sent anyone.”
Tasha’s daughter makes a small cry.
“Oh, your daughter is adorable,” Beatrice says. “Did she just wake up?”
“Yes,” Tasha says. “Do you want to hold her? You have such a good touch with kids.”
“I’d love to hold her,” Beatrice says. “I have six grandchildren, you know.” Beatrice takes the baby, and the baby starts crying and squirming.
The letter is sticking out. I pull it out and walk away to the aisle next door, where I can hear everything.
As I walk away, Tasha says to her son, “Where did the envelope go? Can you give it to me?” She then says to Beatrice, “He probably thought you had candy in your pocket, and he took this out of your pocket. I’m sorry about that.”
“What?” asks her son. “I hid it under my shirt.”
“Yes, good job,” Tasha says.
“I didn’t even realize. I was so focused on calming the baby.” Beatrice turns to Tasha’s son. “Next time I will bring candy, but I don’t think you’re allowed to eat in the library.”
“We can go home for lunch now,” Tasha says to her son. “You’re probably hungry.”
I retreat to a corner of the library, where hopefully Beatrice can’t see me.
Tasha: Beatrice left.
She soon joins me and hands me the thick envelope. “I can’t believe that worked, and we got it.”
“I know. You were brilliant!” I say.
“ You were brilliant,” Tasha says. “I didn’t see her even register your touch.”
I open up the thin envelope.
It’s a handwritten letter.
Repairs need to increase. I’ll give you a 30% cut. Be careful. Vultures circling.
“This is it! This is the evidence I needed.” I want to do a dance of joy.
“I have a sample of Commissioner Ward’s handwriting and a sample of Commissioner Pommer’s handwriting.
” I pull up the photos on my phone of my mailing list and the books signed by the deputy commissioners. We compare the scripts.
Commissioner Ward
Commissioner Pommer
Commissioner Galliano
It’s Ward!! We have the proof that it’s Commissioner Ward.
“It’s Ward, then. It’s the same handwriting,” I say.
“Exactly the same,” says Tasha.
We stare at each other.
“We did it. We solved this,” I say.
“We make a great team,” Tasha says.
We open up the thick envelope, and it's filled with two thousand dollars. I take a photo and put the money in a new envelope. We replace the envelope in the book.
“What happens now?" Tasha asks. "You’ll stay to see if Ward comes by to pick up the envelope?”
“Yes. I’ll write my article while I wait. It might take me a few days, but then I’ll hand it in to my boss. She’ll have revisions and questions. I’ll text you when it’s going to be published. Thank you so much!”
“Thank you,” she says. “I can’t believe we actually figured it out.”
“It’s a feeling like no other, right?” I ask.
It’s such a shot of adrenaline when I find the missing pieces and solve an investigation.
And then there’s the thrill of writing it and sharing it with readers.
I can’t wait to tell Jing tonight at her New Year’s party.
This article will be a joy to write. I pull my laptop out of my bag and start typing.