4

Alone in the kitchen, Jack sniffed his fingers again. At first he had thought he was hallucinating, but then he had found the needle puncture in the orange skin. There could be no doubt—rakoshi elixir. Even now he wanted to retch. Someone—Someone? Kusum!—had left a doctored orange for Vicky.

Kusum wanted Vicky for his monsters!

The worst part was realizing that Grace and Nellie had not been accidental victims. There was purpose here. The two old women had been intended targets. And Vicky was next!

Why? In God’s name, why! Was it this house? Did he want to kill everyone who lived here? He had Grace and Nellie already, but why Vicky next? Why not Eunice or Gia? It didn’t make sense. Or maybe it did and his brain was too rattled right now to see the pattern.

Vicky came up the back steps and hurried through the kitchen carrying something that looked like a big plastic grape. She walked by with her chin out and her nose in the air, without even once glancing Jack’s way.

To her mind she had ample reason to be upset with him. After all, he had frightened her and everyone else in the house. But that could not be helped. He could not remember a shock like the one that had blasted through him when he recognized the odor on his hands. Orange juice, yes, but tainted by the unmistakable herbal smell of rakoshi elixir.

Fear trickled down his chest wall and into his abdomen.

Not my Vicky. Never my Vicky!

He walked over to the sink and looked out the window as he washed the smell off his hands. The house around him, the playhouse out there, the yard, the whole neighborhood had become tainted, sinister.

But where to go? He couldn’t let Gia and Vicky go back to their own apartment. If Kusum knew of Vicky’s passion for oranges, surely he knew her address. And Jack’s place was definitely out. On impulse he called Isher Sports.

“Abe? I need help.”

“So what else is new?” came the lighthearted reply.

“This is serious, Abe. It’s Gia and her little girl. I’ve got to find them a safe place to stay. Somewhere not connected with me.”

The banter was suddenly gone from Abe’s voice. “Hotel no good?”

“As a last resort it’ll do, but I’d feel better in a private place.”

“My daughter’s apartment is empty until the end of the month. She’s on sabbatical in Europe for the summer.”

“Where is it?”

“Queens. On the border of Astoria and Long Island City.”

Jack glanced out the kitchen window to the jumble of buildings directly across the East River. For the first time since cutting the orange open, he felt he had a chance of controlling the situation. The sick dread that weighed so relentlessly upon him lifted a little.

“Perfect! Where’s the key?”

“In my pocket.”

“I’ll be right over to get it.”

“I’ll be here.”

Eunice came in as he hung up. “You really have no right to send us all on our way,” she said sternly. “But if I must go, at least let me clean up the kitchen.”

“I’ll clean it up,” Jack said, blocking her way as she reached for the sponge in the sink. She turned and picked up the Hefty bag that contained the tainted orange. Jack gently pulled it from her grasp. “I’ll take care of that, too.”

“Promise?” she said, eyeing him with unconcealed suspicion. “I wouldn’t want the two ladies of the house coming back and finding a mess.”

“They won’t find a mess here,” Jack told her, feeling sorry for this loyal little woman who had no idea that her employers were dead. “I promise you.”

Gia came down the stairs as Jack ushered Eunice out the front door. Gia seemed to have composed herself since he had chased her upstairs.

“I want to know what all this means,” she said after Eunice was gone. “Vicky’s upstairs. You tell me what’s going on here before she comes down.”

Jack searched for something to say. He could not tell her the truth—she’d lose all confidence in his sanity. She might even call the nut patrol to take him down to pillow city in Bellevue. He began to improvise, mixing truth and fiction, hoping he made sense.

“I think Grace and Nellie were abducted.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Gia said, but her voice did not carry much conviction.

“I wish it were.”

“But there was no sign of a breakin or a struggle—”

“I don’t know how it was done but I’m sure the liquid I found in Grace’s bathroom is a link.” He paused for effect. “Some of it was in that orange Vicky brought in to me.”

Gia’s hand clutched his arm. “The one you threw away?”

Jack nodded. “And I bet if we had the time we could find something of Nellie’s that’s laced with the stuff, something she ate.”

“I can’t think of anything… “Her voice trailed off, then rose again. “What about the chocolates?” Gia grabbed his arm and dragged him to the parlor. “They’re in here. They came last week.”

Jack went to the candy bowl on the table beside the recliner where they had spent Sunday night. He took a chocolate off the top and inspected it. No sign of a needle hole or tampering. He broke it open and held it up to his nose… and there it was: the odor. Rakoshi elixir. He held it out to Gia.

“Here. Take a whiff. I don’t know if you remember what Grace’s laxative smelled like, but it’s the same stuff.” He led her to the kitchen where he opened the garbage bag and took out Vicky’s orange. “Compare.”

Gia sniffed them both, then looked up at him. Fear was growing in her eyes. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Jack lied as he took the candy and orange from her and threw them both into the bag. Then he brought the dish from the parlor and dumped the rest of the chocolates.

“But it’s got to do something!” Gia said, persistent as always.

So that Gia couldn’t see his eyes as he spoke, Jack made a show of concentrating on twisting the tie around the neck of the bag as tightly as he could.

“Maybe it has some sedative properties that keeps people quiet while they’re being carried off. “

Gia stared at him, a mystified look on her face. “This is crazy! Who would want to—?”

“That’s my next question: Where’d she get the candy?”

“From England.” Gia’s face blanched. “Oh, no! From Richard!”

“Your ex?”

“He sent them from London.”

With his mind working furiously, Jack took the garbage bag outside and dumped it in a can in the narrow alley alongside the house.

Richard Westphalen? Where the hell did he fit in? But hadn’t Kusum mentioned that he had been in London last year? And now Gia says her ex-husband sent those chocolates from London. It all fit but it made no sense. What possible link could he have to Kusum? Certainly not financial. Kusum hadn’t struck Jack as a man to whom money meant much.

This was making less and less sense every minute.

“Could your ex be behind this?” he asked as he returned to the kitchen. “Could he be thinking he’s going to inherit something if Grace and Nellie disappear?”

“I wouldn’t put much past Richard,” Gia said, “but I can’t see him getting involved in a serious crime. Besides, I happen to know that he’s not going to inherit a thing from Nellie.”

“But does he know that?”

“I don’t know.” She glanced around and appeared to shiver. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

“Soon as you’re ready.”

Gia went upstairs to get Vicky. Before long, mother and daughter were standing in the foyer, Vicky with a little suitcase in one hand and her plastic grape carrying case in the other.

“What’s in there?” Jack asked, pointing to the grape.

Vicky held it out of his reach behind her back. “Just my Ms. Jelliroll doll.”

“I should have known.” At least she’s talking to me.

“Can we go now?” Gia said. She had been transformed from a reluctant evictee to someone anxious to be as far away from this house as possible. He was glad for that.

Jack took the large suitcase and led the two of them up to Sutton Place where he hailed a cab and gave the address of Isher Sports.

“I want to get home,” Gia said. She was in the middle, Vicky on her left and Jack on her right. “That’s in your neighborhood.”

“You can’t go home,” he told her. As she opened her mouth to protest he added: “You can’t go to my place, either.”

“Then where?”

“I’ve found a place in Queens.”

“Queens? I don’t want to—”

“No one’ll find you in a million years. Just hang out there for a couple of days until I see if I can put a stop to this.”

“I feel like a criminal.” Gia put an arm around Vicky and hugged her close.

Jack wanted to hug both of them and tell them they’d be all right, that he’d see to it that nothing ever hurt them. But it would be awkward here in the back seat of a cab, and after his outburst this morning with the orange, he wasn’t sure how they’d react.

The cab pulled up in front of Abe’s store. Jack ran in and found him at his usual station reading his usual science fiction novel. There was mustard on his tie; poppy seeds peppered his ample shirt front.

“The key’s on the counter and so’s the address,” he said, glancing over his reading glasses without moving from his seat. “This won’t be messy, I hope. Already my relationship with Sarah is barely civil.”

Jack pocketed the key but kept the address in hand.

“If I know Gia, she’ll leave the place spotless.”

“If I know my daughter, Gia will have her work cut out for her.” He stared at Jack. “I suppose you have some running around to do tonight?”

Jack nodded. “A lot.”

“And I suppose you want I should come over and babysit the two ladies while you’re out of the apartment? Don’t even ask,” he said, holding up a hand. “I’ll do it.”

“I owe you one, Abe,” Jack said.

“I’ll add it to the list,” he replied with a deprecating wave of his hand.

“Do that.”

Back in the cab, Jack gave the driver the address of Abe’s daughter’s apartment. “Take the Midtown Tunnel,” he said.

“The bridge is better for where you’re going,” the cabbie said.

“Take the tunnel,” Jack told him. “And go through the park.”

“It’s quicker around.”

“The park. Enter at Seventy-second and head downtown.”

The cabbie shrugged. “You’re paying for it.”

They drove over to Central Park West, then turned into the park. Jack stayed twisted around in his seat the whole way, tensely watching through the back window for any car or cab that followed them. He had insisted on taking the route through the park because it was narrow and winding, curving through the trees and beneath the overpasses. Anyone tailing would want to stay close for fear of losing them.

There was no one following. Jack was sure of that by the time they reached Columbus Circle, but he kept his eyes fixed out the rear window until they reached the Queens Midtown Tunnel.

As they slid into that tiled fluorescent gullet, Jack faced front and allowed himself to unwind. The East River was above them, Manhattan was rapidly falling behind. Soon he’d have Gia and Vicky lost in the mammoth beehive of apartments called Queens. He was putting the whole island of Manhattan between Kusum and his intended victims. Kusum would never find them. With that worry behind him, Jack would be free to concentrate his efforts on finding a way to deal with the crazy Indian.

Right now, however, he had to mend his relationship with Vicky, who was sitting on the far side of her mother with her big plastic grape sitting in her lap. He began by leaning around Gia and making the kind of faces mothers always tell their children not to make because you never know when your face’ll get stuck that way.

Vicky tried to ignore him but soon was laughing and crossing her eyes and making faces, too.

“Stop that, Vicky!” Gia said. “Your face could get stuck that way!”