Chapter Six
SIX
The hidey-hole wasn’t empty. There was a bottle that no doubt held Pearlie’s bootleg liquor. But there was no money, not even a handful of quarters, and certainly not anything like a mobster’s payout.
“I don’t understand,” Bea said, her voice going high-pitched. “He showed me. There was cash…”
Leo moved her gently aside and inspected the hole.
His face was impassive as he pulled out the liquor bottle and handed it to Vivian.
There was an envelope as well; he handed that to her, too, before running his hands around each side of the hiding spot.
“No other compartments,” he said, stepping back and dusting his hands off.
“But that doesn’t mean there isn’t somewhere else he was hiding things. Let’s look around.”
He and Bea began to search the rest of the apartment, moving systematically around the room as they felt the walls and searched behind the furniture.
Vivian didn’t join them. Bea knew her uncle, and Leo knew how folks with things to hide tended to think.
They were more likely than she was to find anything else Pearlie might have tucked away.
Instead, she looked at the bottle Leo had handed her.
It was unmarked, but that wasn’t a surprise.
It was mostly full of deep, amber-brown liquid, though it looked as though Pearlie had enjoyed a drink or two from it already.
Vivian uncapped the bottle and took a sniff.
For someone who spent as much time at a bar as she did, it was easy to identify: brandy, and high quality, too.
She put the cap back on and set the bottle down, turning her attention to the envelope.
Inside was a simple sheet of paper, folded once and unmarked with any sort of monogram or address, though that was no surprise. What was written on it wasn’t the sort of thing anyone in their right mind would put their name on.
A bottle of the good stuff for a job well done. Drink a toast to our continued work together.
It was signed only with the letter H.
A shiver went skating down Vivian’s back. “Well, we know for sure that he was taking work from some shady folks,” she said, raising her head.
Bea and Leo had met up on the opposite side of the room, neither of them having found anything else hidden away. But at Vivian’s words, they both looked at her.
She held up the letter. “Looks like the booze was a thank-you for whatever job got him so flush. And it says there was more work to come.”
It took Leo only a few strides to cross the room. “May I?” She handed him the letter without protesting, and he scanned it. His frown deepened. “Any chance it’s from your Ms. Huxley?” he asked, pointing to the H.
“It’s not her handwriting,” Vivian said. “And I never heard of Honor sending liquor to any of the staff.” She turned to Bea. “Have you?”
Bea took her own turn examining the note. “Nah, she just lets us drink on the job. If she was going to treat anyone to a little something special, my guess is it would be Viv here. Don’t you think?”
This last was said with a deliberate lift of her chin, her gaze slightly taunting as she met Leo’s eyes. Vivian could see his jaw tighten—Bea knew exactly which buttons she was pushing—but he let the jab slide.
When Bea saw she wasn’t going to get a rise out of him, she shrugged, handing the paper back. “Viv’s right, it’s not her handwriting. And she’s got too much class to send a note that someone else wrote for her.”
“And anyway, who would she get to do it?” Vivian pointed out. “Danny?”
That made Leo chuckle, and even Bea cracked a smile. All of them knew Danny, and none of them could picture him writing out Honor’s letters for her like some sort of Park Avenue social secretary.
“Well, in that case—”
Leo broke off, whatever he might have said lost to the sound of the door opening. They all turned, Leo stepping forward to put himself in front of both girls as the door swung open.
All of them stared at each other.
Bea found her voice first. “Abraham? What are you doing here?”
He gave them all a wary look before answering.
A young Black man who drove a cab and had lived in New York City his whole life, Abraham had a skeptical streak a mile wide and plenty of rough experiences to back it up.
Vivian thought he had probably just gotten off work: his hair, which he wore parted along one side and pomaded down, was still perfectly in place, but his white shirt wilted around the collar, and he was holding the jacket of his suit over one shoulder.
That made sense; from what Bea had told her, Abraham tended to work nights and mornings, which made their schedules conveniently compatible.
“Looking for you,” he said at last. “I stopped by to see you, and when you weren’t home, I thought you might have come here to get some of Pearlie’s things.”
Vivian didn’t know Abraham well, and the look he turned on her and Leo made her want to take a step back.
The hand that had been holding his jacket up dropped to his side, the fingers curling into a fist in the fabric.
Tall, wiry, and good-looking, with a pair of round spectacles perched on his nose, Abraham wasn’t the sort to seek out a fight.
But he was protective enough of Bea that Vivian wouldn’t put it past him to start swinging if he thought he needed to.
He stepped closer to Bea and put an arm around her shoulders.
“Everything all right?” he asked, casting another baleful look at Leo. “You one of Pearlie’s associates?”
“No,” Leo said, his own shoulders set warily, as though bracing for a fight. “Just helping out Beatrice here. As a favor.”
“He’s one of Vivian’s many admirers,” Bea put in.
She was leaning into Abraham’s arm as she spoke; for all she wanted to stand on her own feet and act like she didn’t need anyone to take care of her, Bea had admitted to Vivian that she liked how protective he could be.
It was nice, she had said quietly, almost as if she were embarrassed to say it out loud, to have someone looking out for her for a change, instead of her being the person who took care of everyone else.
She gave Abraham a little smile as she spoke; her eyes were still sad, still tired, but she clearly wanted to reassure him.
“Don’t mind Leo. He just hangs around the Nightingale making eyes at her whenever he gets the chance. ”
Leo scowled, but he didn’t argue with the description.
Abraham’s mouth twitched as though he was about to smile as he glanced around the room.
“What are you…” His eyes fell on the bed, which was still pulled away from the wall.
Frowning, he dropped his arm from around Bea and went to it, one hand rising to the hidey-hole that was plainly visible.
When he lifted his face back toward Bea, his worry was clear. “Something going on?”
Vivian looked around, but both the bottle and the letter had disappeared. Leo must have tucked them away quickly, with those hands that were used to hiding illegal things from curious eyes. She wondered where they had gone, but there was no chance to look.
“Like you said, we’re looking through Pearlie’s things,” Bea said quietly. “I told you last night, remember?”
Abraham nodded. “You don’t think he did it to himself,” he said quietly, his hands tightening into fists once more. “So you’re going through his things to find … what?”
“Proof of some kind,” Bea said, sounding desperate. “There used to be money, there, Abraham, but it’s all gone. And we found—”
“Bea, don’t do this to yourself,” Abraham pleaded. “Whatever you found or didn’t find, do you think your uncle would want you mixed up in it?”
Bea’s reply was an angry accusation. “You don’t believe me.”
Vivian’s eyes were locked on Bea’s face, but behind her, she felt Leo give one of her hands a tug until it was hanging behind her back. The cold neck of a bottle pressed against her fingers until they closed around it.
“I think that if you’re wrong, you’re going to cause your family a whole mess of grief.
And if you’re right, you’re going to get mixed up in something even worse.
” Abraham glanced at the bed. “And I think either way, you shouldn’t leave things this way.
If someone was messing with Pearlie…” He trailed off.
“Let me take you home,” he said, more gently this time.
“Pearlie cared about you too much, Bea, he wouldn’t want you doing this. ”
Bea wavered, suddenly looking unsure.
“I’ll help,” Leo said, stepping forward.
“He’s right that we shouldn’t leave it there, anyway.
” After a moment, Abraham joined him. It took the two of them a moment to get a grip on the heavy bed, then they slid it back into place with a matched set of grunts.
When they were done, Leo came to stand next to Vivian once more, side by side, their bodies hiding the brandy bottle from view.
“Will you let me take you home?” Abraham asked, putting his hands on Bea’s shoulders. “And you just forget about this whole thing?”
She swallowed, then nodded. “Okay.” But she gave Vivian a quick glance, and her fingers flicked out rapidly. Vivian’s hands tightened around the bottle, still hidden behind her back.
Abraham saw the look. “You need something?” he asked, an edge to his voice.
“Mrs. Henry wanted some of Pearlie’s papers,” Vivian pointed out. She could feel her palms growing sweaty and slipping against the glass of the bottle’s neck.
“I think I can help her with that,” Abraham said, a protective arm back around Bea’s shoulders as he sent another suspicious look toward Leo.
“Then we’ll beat it,” Leo agreed, placing his hat back on his head and picking up his own jacket from the chair where he had tossed it. “Sorry again for your loss, Beatrice. Come on, Viv.”
Somehow, as he placed one arm around her shoulders and turned her toward the door, he managed to let his jacket fall over his arm at just the right moment to cover the bottle from view once more.
And then Vivian felt its weight disappearing from her arms as she was herded out the door.
Vivian’s heart was pounding like a set of drums played by a drunk.
Never mind Abraham—what were they thinking, walking out into broad daylight with a bottle of booze in their arms?
What if someone saw? What if they walked past a cop on the beat?
Leo glanced at her face as they made their way outside. “Relax, sweetheart,” he murmured. The hand that wasn’t holding the bottle under his jacket slipped around her waist and gave her a quick squeeze. “I’ve been running liquor for years, and I ain’t been caught yet.”
“Were you usually this dumb about it?” Vivian hissed as they turned toward her own building, which was only a few blocks away.
“No. But I also usually had more than one bottle to worry about. This is nothing.” He grinned sideways at her, dropping his arm.
“Cheer up, buttercup. I’ll get you home, and then I’ll head to talk to my friend at the coroner’s office.
Unless I should just pour this down the drain?
Did Beatrice really want us to drop the whole thing? ”
“No.” Vivian shook her head, remembering the quick signal Bea had given her.
It was another one of the signs from the club: two fingers up, then down to meet her thumb.
A sign that looked like a mouth saying no.
“She told Abraham yes, but she told me no. Which means she wants us to keep going.” She glanced at him.
“But why do you need the bottle for that?” She shivered even as she asked. There could really only be one reason.
Leo didn’t answer for a long minute. “Come meet me tomorrow, okay?” he said at last. “Once you’re done with your deliveries, stop by my place.
I’ll take you to meet my pal the medical examiner, and we’ll see what he can tell us.
” They were at her building now, and he bent down to give her a quick peck on the cheek.
“But first, can you run upstairs and get me a bag or something to stash this in? I’ll need to have my jacket on if I’m going to look presentable enough to ask for a favor. ”