Chapter Thirty-Two
Gabriela strolled down a tree-lined street and stopped when she came to the antique bookstore next to Tartoni’s art gallery.
She was in the market for something to read on a plane, and she remembered this little shop.
She was leaving Milan tomorrow morning, flying back to New York with Rafer and Harley.
Rafer would continue on to St. Vincent and she wasn’t sure what Harley had planned.
He’d declined the offer to return to Searl and Junkett as president.
Been there, done that, he’d said to Gabriela.
Searl and Junkett had wired a generous finder’s fee into her account, and Marcella had several clients for her to consider.
The clients would most likely have to wait, Gabriela thought.
She had an outstanding obligation. More than that, she wasn’t a quitter.
She was going to find Brendan’s golden coffin.
She entered the store and smiled at an elderly man who was arranging a display of books on Athens. They didn’t look like antiques, but they didn’t look new, either. The man’s English was fractured but his smile and love of his books was genuine.
“This one, very good,” he said, handing Gabriela a small leather-bound book in English on Athena, the revered warrior goddess and patron of the city bearing her name. “Very wise lady,” the man said.
Gabriela bought the book, left the store, and paused to look in Galleria d’Arte Brilliante’s window. She didn’t see big orange Ralph hanging on the wall. Someone bought Ralph, she thought. There’s a lid for every pot and Ralph found his pot.
Phillip stepped out from behind the coffee bar, spotted Gabriela, and ran to the door. “Come in!” he said. “I’ll make you a coffee.”
“I was just passing by,” Gabriela said. “I bought a book next door.”
“It’s a wonderful shop,” Phillip said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a coffee? Did you hear the terrible news about Mr. Tartoni? Mysteriously dropped off at a clinic with his hand chopped off. Bled to death.”
“I heard,” Gabriela said.
“Shocking,” Phillip said. “Just shocking. And poor Gloria. I’m worried about her. She hasn’t been in since the tragedy. Three days now, and she hasn’t had her vodka coffee.”
“I see someone bought Ralph.”
“Gloria wanted Ralph. We hung him in her apartment in the morning, and that evening she was told about Mr. Tartoni. The one bright note. At least she has Ralph.”
Gabriela nodded in agreement, at a loss for words, trying to look sympathetic. “Ralph is a blessing.”
“You should visit her,” Phillip said. “She would like that. She told me how much she loved meeting you. She said you were her new best friend.”
Oh, dear God, Gabriela thought, the last thing she wanted was a condolence visit with Gloria.
“You could take some Coocko nibbles to her,” Phillip said. “I’ll call and order them and all you have to do is pick them up. I’ll put them on the gallery bill. And I’ll call Gloria and let her know you’re on your way to cheer her up. You can walk to Coocko and then Gloria is just a block further.”
“I barely know her,” Gabriela said. “I’m afraid I would be intruding.”
“Not at all. It would be good. And you will love her apartment. She has all kinds of strange things. Very eclectic and retro. And you will love the kitties. At least she has the kitties to keep her company now that Mr. Tartoni is gone.”
Phillip scribbled an address on the back of his business card, handed the card to Gabriela, and dialed Gloria.
“How are you, dear?” he asked. “Such a brave soul,” he said. “I have Gabriela Rose here, and she’s going to come visit you and bring some nibbles.”
Silence.
“Gabriela Rose. You had cocktails and nibbles with her several days ago. She’s an American. She was interested in Ralph, and I told her you have him hung.”
Twenty minutes later, Gabriela rang the bell to Gloria’s apartment building. A uniformed doorman answered and walked her through the wood-paneled foyer to the elevator. He pressed the fourth-floor button and wished Gabriela a good day.
The fourth floor was the top floor in the building, and Gloria’s apartment took up the entire floor.
Gloria opened the door and gave Gabriela the required double kiss.
“Phillip ordered some nibbles for you,” Gabriela said, handing her the box.
“He’s such a sweetie,” Gloria said. “He knows this is my nibble time of the day. I’m going to give him a raise.”
“He was worried about you because you haven’t been stopping in to see him.”
“One of my kitties was sick. Poor thing. Barfing up all over the place. I was afraid to leave her alone.”
“Is she okay now?”
“Yes. She barfed up a giant hairball last night, and now she’s fine. Come in and look at my Klemmer. I know it was selfish of me to take it, but I couldn’t help myself. It brightens up my whole apartment.”
Klemmer’s Ralph was on display in the foyer. Sultry orange against a white wall. Definitely a penis. Circumcised.
“Wow,” Gabriela said.
“No shit,” Gloria said. “I wet my pants every time I walk past it. I have a lot of other good stuff here too. Not as good as Ralph, but pretty good. I have a Chinese horse in my living room. Do you like horses?”
“Sure,” Gabriela said. “Who doesn’t like horses?”
“My husband didn’t like horses. He’s dead. Did you know he’s dead?”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
“No biggie,” Gloria said. “I never saw him anyway. He’s never even been in this apartment. Do you want a drink? I made a pitcher of vodka martinis to go with the nibbles.”
“A drink would be great.”
Gabriela followed Gloria into the living room.
The furnishings were a mix of softly modern, with white couches and club chairs set on a large teardrop-medallion Tabriz rug with Chinese Chippendale mahogany side tables.
Walls were white. Two large Miró lithographs gave color to the room.
The Chinese horse was painted wood and very handsome, but it was the coffee table in front of the oversized couch that caught Gabriela’s attention.
The six-foot base was gold and resembled Tut’s inner coffin, which was shaped like his mummy.
Two gold rods had been drilled into the shoulders, and a large piece of tempered glass rested on the rods and the mummy coffin’s feet.
Gabriela thought it was bizarrely unique and slightly grotesque.
It was the Egyptian equivalent to a painting of Elvis on velvet.
Two martini glasses, the pitcher of chilled martinis, and some cocktail napkins had been placed on the coffee table.
There also were two cats on the coffee table.
There was a cat in one of the chairs, a cat curled on an end table, two cats following Gloria around.
Gabriela sat on the couch and took a closer look at the table base. The workmanship was good. It was hammered gold, inlaid with semiprecious stones and enamel tiles. It wasn’t a replica of Tut’s. The symbols were different. The death mask was different. The size was about right.
“Do you like my coffee table?” Gloria asked. “It’s new. I had it made. Sort of. When it was delivered it was just the bottom piece. I added the glass. Without the glass I had no place to set my martini.”
“Where did you find this? Did you get it online? eBay? Etsy? ?”
“Khal Aman. It’s a store in Cairo but you can order online. I ordered an inlaid coffee table with gold leaf. Six feet so it would fit this couch. This is what I got instead. I got in touch with them, and they swore they delivered the table to the Mausud warehouse to ship.”
Gabriela felt the skin prickle on the back of her neck.
“It’s that stupid Mausud warehouse,” Gloria said. “They get stuff wrong all the time. We used them because we got a good rate on shipping, but they’re the worst. Rocky is supposed to be in charge. I don’t know how Rocky ever got through Harvard.”
“When did you get this piece?”
“A couple months ago.”
Omigod, Gabriela thought. Holy crap. Is it possible?
“Anyway, the thing was uncrated and sitting here in my living room,” Gloria said. “No one seemed to want it. And it weighs a ton.”
“Two hundred and forty-one pounds,” Gabriela said.
“At least,” Gloria said. “The building handyman, Ari, and his helper almost ruptured stuff getting it up here. Anyway, the more I looked at it, the better I liked it. It’s kind of funky, right?”
“Right,” Gabriela said.
“So, I got the idea to turn it into my coffee table.”
“It’s spectacular,” Gabriela said.
“You don’t think it’s cheesy? I was afraid it was trying too hard.”
Gabriela was smiling so wide her cheeks hurt. “Not at all. It’s fun,” she said. “I have a friend who would love to see this. Do you mind if I invite him over?”
“Is he hot?”
“He makes Ralph look like dog food.”
“Bring him on,” Gloria said, knocking back a martini.
Gabriela took a sip of her drink and called Ahmed. “Are you still in Milan?” she asked him.
“Yes,” he said. “I have some business to finish here. Unrelated to missing artifacts.”
“I have something you might like to see.”
“Where are you?”
Gabriela gave him the address. “Are you very far away?”
“About ten minutes in traffic.”
Gloria poured herself another martini and picked through the nibbles. “I like the shrimp,” she said. “They never give me enough shrimp.”
“Will you stay in Italy now that Antonio is gone?” Gabriela asked her.
“Hell no. I’m selling everything and going back to Boston. Except I’m taking my coffee table with me. It’s my art project. Maybe I’ll take Phillip with me, too. He makes excellent coffee.”
Gloria was on her second pitcher of martinis when Ahmed stepped out of the elevator and into the foyer.
“Whoa,” Gloria said. “You were right about him being hot.”
Ahmed looked at Gabriela. “You said I was hot?”
“I had to say something to get you an invitation.”
Ahmed smiled ever so slightly.
Gloria leaned forward to get a closer look at Ahmed and spilled some of her drink on her foot.
Ahmed turned his attention to Ralph. “Is this what you wanted me to see?”
“No. It’s in the living room.”
“And we have drinks and nibbles,” Gloria said.
Everyone moved into the living room, and Ahmed walked over to the coffee table. “Is this it?”
“Yes,” Gabriela said. “I think this might be it.”
He squatted down to take a closer look. He ran his hand over the gold and touched one of the gemstones. “How did it get here?”
“By accident,” Gabriela said. “Apparently this isn’t the first time Mausud has shipped to the wrong address.”
“You added the glass?” he asked Gloria.
“Yeah. Ari, the handyman, did it. He figured it all out. He knows how to do everything.”
“Could you excuse us for a moment?” Ahmed said to Gloria. “I need to talk to Gabriela.
“No problem,” Gloria said. “I’ll make us more martinis. You can never have too many martinis.”
Ahmed watched her waddle off to the kitchen. “Does she really not know this is possibly the missing coffin?” Ahmed asked Gabriela.
“I don’t think she knows that a coffin was missing. There wasn’t a lot of communication between her and Antonio. And it’s not like the theft was advertised.”
“I need some alone time with the coffin to make sure it’s genuine. The fake that was made in New York was so good it made it all the way to the GEM.”
“From my limited exposure to her, the routine is that she eats a lot of nibbles and drinks a lot of vodka and falls asleep. I can’t see her lasting much longer.”
They stood still and listened. No sounds coming from the kitchen. They went in search of Gloria and found her asleep in a kitchen chair with her head on the table.
Ahmed went to the knife block on the counter, selected a paring knife, and returned to the coffee table. He knelt down and carefully worked the knife around the base of one of the gemstones.
“Is this your test for authenticity?” Gabriela asked.
“In a manner,” he said. “This would be easier if I didn’t have the glass to contend with.”
“We can probably get it off,” Gabriela said.
“Gloria has enough problems without me ruining her coffee table. I’ve almost got it. I just needed to break the seal.”
He set the knife aside and removed the gemstone from Brendan’s coffin. A silver disc the size of a nickel was left in the shallow cavity under the gemstone. Ahmed pried it out with the knife and examined it.
“Perfect,” he said.
“What is it?”
“It’s a treasure map. The story is too long to tell now, but maybe someday soon, over drinks, I might interest you in an adventure.”
“And what about Gloria’s coffee table?”
Ahmed put the gemstone back in place. “She can keep her one-of-a-kind coffee table for a while longer. I’ll have the proper authorities see that it eventually gets returned to Brendan.”
Gabriela went into the kitchen and wrote a note on Gloria’s kitchen pad.
It was lovely. Thank you for the martinis and good company. I hope our paths cross again sometime.
Gabriela Rose