A Stitch to Die For (An Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery Book 5) (24 page)

Zack reached for my free hand and squeezed it. “He’s going to be arrested tonight.”

That didn’t keep me from quaking in my shoes—shoes that might soon become encased in cement, given Lawrence’s connections. “Prison bars are no guarantee he won’t seek revenge.”

“I spoke to Spader about that. He assured me that won’t be the case.”

“Why not? Lawrence is going to know someone ratted him out, and I’m the obvious rat.”

“Unless they have another rat feeding them information.”

“Who?”

Zack shrugged. “That’s on a need-to-know basis.”

“Need-to-know basis?” I jumped to my feet; my voice escalated three octaves. “Shouldn’t I of all people need to know? Given Lawrence knows I rifled through his belongings, he’ll target me as top rat on his list.”

Before Zack could answer we heard someone climbing the stairs to the apartment. A moment later the door opened, and Mama entered. “What’s all the shouting about?”

Zack frowned at her. “Perhaps you could knock next time, Flora?”

She ignored him and instead turned her attention to me. Waving at the wine glasses and the half-empty bottle of chardonnay sitting on the coffee table, she said, “Since the two of you don’t seem to be enjoying a very happy Happy Hour, do you think we could get on with dinner? Some of us are hungry—including the belligerent Bolshevik who’s downstairs hurling all sorts of insults your way. She thinks you’re up here enjoying an early evening delight.”

If only…

I grabbed the half-empty wine bottle and handed it to her. “Dinner isn’t ready yet. Why don’t you and Lawrence enjoy a glass of wine in the meantime? Offer one to Lucille, too.”

Mama studied the contents of the bottle. “There’s hardly enough here for two glasses, let alone three.”

Zack grabbed a bottle of pinot noir from his wine rack, passed it to her, and swung open the door. “Enjoy, Flora.”

After glancing at the label, Mama graced him with one of her Blanche Dubois smiles. “Isn’t that sweet of you, Zachary dear.” Then she frowned and added, “Although it’s a shame to waste such good wine on that commie pinko.”

“Mama—”

“Well, it’s true.” She executed a graceful pirouette and flounced down the stairs.

As soon as Zack closed the door behind her, I smacked my hand against my forehead and groaned. “You know what’s the worst part of all this?”

“What?”

“If Lawrence is arrested and goes to prison, she won’t be able to afford to stay in that condo. She’ll wind up back here permanently.”

“Not permanently. Only until she finds her next husband.”

“How comforting. I’ll tell you one thing, though. If she wants to get married again, I’m hiring a detective to vet the next guy before she sashays down the aisle again. I don’t care how much it costs.”

Although, I was beginning to regret not having helped myself to at least one of those diamonds, which I’m sure the government would confiscate. I also wondered what would happen to all that money socked away in those offshore bank accounts.

I gulped down the remainder of wine in my glass, took a deep breath, and said, “Let’s get this dinner over with.”

Zack and I headed downstairs and into the house. With Ralph observing from his favorite spot atop the refrigerator, I tossed a batch of sweet potato fries into the toaster oven, then started chopping up a salad. After feeding Ralph a piece of carrot, Zack grabbed plates and silverware to set the dining room table.

Right on cue, the moment Zack began to set the table, Lucille waddled precariously into the dining room. I watched from the kitchen as she lugged a squirming Mephisto under one arm while maneuvering her cane with her other hand. As she collapsed onto her chair, the poor dog wriggled out of her grasp and scampered off to join me in the kitchen.

When the meatloaf and rice were ready, I called Mama and Lawrence to the table. Ralph followed me in from the kitchen and perched himself atop the breakfront. Mephisto remained camped out on the kitchen floor next to his water and food bowls.

“Where are the boys?” asked Mama, noticing only five place settings.

“They have dinner plans,” I said.

She raised one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows. “On a school night?”

“It’s a student government planning session,” I lied, not looking directly at her or anyone else at the table.

I kept my head down and remained silent for most of the meal. Of course, Mama noticed. “That must have been some fight the two you had.”

Ralph spread his wings and squawked. “
Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight with hearts more proof than shields. Coriolanus.
Act One, Scene Four.”

“We weren’t fighting,” I said.

“Certainly sounded like a fight to me,” said Mama.

Zack placed his hand under the table and squeezed my thigh. “Anastasia is tired, Flora. She had a rough day at work and arrived home to find unexpected dinner company.”

“We’re hardly company,” said Mama. “We’re family.”

I opened my mouth to say something but thought better of it. Why stoke the fire? All I wanted was dinner to end and my
company
to leave. The sooner the better. At least Mama hadn’t invited Ira and his brood to join us this evening.

However, Lucille exercised no such discretion. “That doesn’t give you the right to waltz in here whenever you want,” she said.

“No one asked for your commie two cents,” said Mama.

“I don’t need your permission,” said Lucille. “I live here.”

Before Mama could respond, the doorbell rang. “Saved by the bell,” I muttered, pushing back from the table.

Zack placed his hand on my shoulder. “Finish your dinner. I’ll get it.”

A moment later he returned with Detective Spader and two uniformed officers.

“Oh my!” said Mama. “Are we being sweated again?”

“Swatted,” said Lawrence. He eyed me, his expression malevolent. “And I don’t believe so. Isn’t that right, Anastasia?”

“I have no idea—”

“Oh, I think you do.” Lawrence yanked Mama out of her chair, whipped a gun from his waistband, and pointed it at her head.
 

NINETEEN

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” said Lawrence in a calm voice completely incongruous with the situation. “My wife and I are going to walk out of here. Anyone tries to stop us and I splatter her brains all over the dining room.”

“Lawrence!” Mama screamed as she tried to twist out of his grasp. “What are you doing? Are you crazy? You’re hurting me. Let me go!”

He twisted her arm nearly to the breaking point and pressed the gun into her temple. “Keep your mouth shut, Flora.”

The color drained from Mama’s face. Her chin trembled; she began to hyperventilate. I feared she might pass out in his arms.

Lawrence waved the gun at the three policemen and Zack. “Down on the floor. All of you. Faces down. Hands behind your heads.”

“Do as he says,” said Spader, lowering himself to the carpet.

Once they were all prone, Lawrence pointed the gun at me. “Remove their weapons. Try anything stupid and your mother dies.”

“You can’t possibly think you’re going to get away with this,” I said as I stepped toward Spader. I pulled the service weapon from his shoulder holster, not an easy task given his bulk, his position on the floor, and the fact that he didn’t seem inclined to make my task any easier by shifting his weight. However, under the circumstances, I could hardly blame him.

Lawrence chuckled. “Of course, I will. You think I haven’t done this before?”

“Why don’t you put the gun down and tell me all about it?”

“Why don’t you shut up and do as you’re told?”

For the briefest of seconds I thought about aiming Spader’s gun at him, but I’d never fired a gun before, and I seriously doubted Lawrence was bluffing about killing Mama. My hand trembled as I held the gun out to him.

“Place it in the center of the table,” he said.

I did as I was told and moved on to the first uniformed officer.

Now would be a fabulous time for Zack to prove me right about working for one of those alphabet agencies—especially if he happened to have Mr. Sauer hidden somewhere on him. Lawrence would never suspect Zack might be armed, and unlike me, I bet Zack had quite a bit of gun experience.

If ever I needed a James Bond sort of guy in my life, this was the time. I made quick eye contact with Zack, but unfortunately his expression gave no indication of what might be spinning around in his head.

Once I’d removed all three guns and placed them on the dining room table, Lawrence said, “Now get down on the floor with the others and place your hands behind your head. You, too,” he said, pointing the gun at Lucille.

“Absolutely not.”

Lawrence dragged Mama closer to Lucille and stuck the gun in my mother-in-law’s face. “Now or you’re the first to die. And you have no idea how much pleasure killing you would give me.”

“Do as he says, Lucille. Please, before someone gets hurt.”

She turned to glare at me. “This is all your fault, Anastasia.” Then with a huge grunt she slowly leveraged herself up from the table. She grabbed her cane and hobbled a step toward an empty spot on the floor, but before Lawrence realized what she was doing, she pivoted, slipped her cane between his legs, and yanked with both hands, sending him and Mama sprawling to the floor.

Ralph flapped his wings and squawked wildly as the gun flew from Lawrence’s hand, arcing into the air before landing inches from my head and discharging. The bullet ricocheted off my chandelier, raining glass shards, before hitting Lawrence in the foot.

Over the ringing in my ears I heard Lawrence let loose with a string of curses as he lunged for the gun. I beat him to it, sweeping my arm across the carpet to send the gun skidding under the base of the dining room table. Zack bounded off the floor and tackled Lawrence while Spader pushed himself to his feet and the two officers raced for their guns. A moment later three weapons were pointed at Lawrence’s head.

Mephisto toddled into the dining room. After scoping out the situation, he planted himself alongside Lawrence’s face, bared his teeth, and let loose a menacing growl.

I helped my mother off the floor, then turned to my soon-to-be-ex stepfather. “You may have done this before, but you won’t be doing it again.”

“I’ll see you pay for this,” he said as the uniformed officers yanked him up on his one good foot and cuffed him.

“She had nothing to do with this,” said Spader.

“She had everything to do with it,” said Lawrence. “I know a rat when I smell one.”

Spader shook his head. “Think again. Salvatore Capperato, you’re under arrest for orchestrating the murders of Cynthia Tuttnauer Pollack—AKA Cynthia Capperato—, Pablo Perez, Betty Bentworth, and Carmen Cordova. You have the right to remain silent—”

Mama spun around to face Spader. “Salvatore Capperato? There’s no one here by that name. You’re making a terrible mistake.”

“I’m afraid you’ve been duped,” said Spader.

“I know the man I married,” said Mama, “and it’s definitely not someone named Salvatore Capperato.”

My jaw dropped as Spader ignored Mama and continued to inform Lawrence—Salvatore—of his rights. The man killed his own daughter? And Pablo, Betty, and Carmen? Obviously, my wild theory about one killer imitating TV and movie murders had proven correct. But why? What possible connection could the man we all knew as Lawrence Tuttnauer have to Betty Bentworth and Carmen Cordova?

“Lawrence,” pleaded Mama, “tell them they’re wrong. Please!”

He ignored her. For a brief moment a look of stunned surprise had overcome him. He quickly recovered and said, “You can’t pin any of that on me. You have no proof.”

“We have all the proof we need—a confession from “Jelly Bean” Benini, the man you hired to do your dirty work.”

Relief swept over Lawrence, and he laughed. “You plan to put a dead man on the witness stand? Good luck with that.”

Spader smiled. “Benini is very much alive. We staged his death after he sang like a canary when we offered him a deal.”

I don’t know who appeared more dumbfounded, Lawrence or me. I glanced over at Zack. “Need-to-know,” he mouthed.

I scowled at him. What I needed to know right now was how to get Zack, who apparently now had quite the intimate professional relationship with Detective Spader, to sing like a canary to me.

Spader called for two ambulances, one for Lawrence and one for Mama, insisting she get checked out at the hospital. If nothing else, Mama needed a strong sedative. I’d never seen her this confused and distraught. Zack and I followed the ambulance. “Details,” I demanded as we pulled out of the driveway. “Now.”

“I don’t have many.”

“But you knew Benini was alive?”

He nodded. “The forensics report came back on Carmen. They found a small trace of Benini’s DNA on her and picked him up.”

“And he fingered Lawrence/Salvatore?”