The door they passed through opened to a narrow hallway that ended in a large, professional-looking kitchen. In the middle of the ceiling hung a wrought iron rack strung with copper pots and stainless steel utensils. Below it stood a rectangular butcher block table. The stainless steel, double doors of an oversized refrigerator reflected back ghostly images as the trio marched, single-file, past the center island.
On the far side of the kitchen, Shoes stopped in front of a door and bowed his head as if listening for a sound. He paused briefly before turning a skeleton key beneath the doorknob, then stepped aside to let Edna precede him down rickety wooden stairs into a dank, dimly-lighted, cold cellar.
As she approached Shoes, a hand reached out over her shoulder, palm up. “I’ll take that key,” Zach said from behind her.
“Why?” Shoes looked startled and dismayed.
“Wouldn’t want her to overpower you and get out. You just holler when you’re ready, and I’ll unlock the door.”
Reluctantly, Shoes pulled the key from the lock and dropped it into Zach’s outstretched hand. “I’m going to need a flashlight,” he said sulkily.
At these words, Edna remembered the penlight she had grabbed from Norm as she’d run from his office. Moving her hand cautiously over the pocket in her slacks so as not to draw attention to herself, she felt for its shape. Still there. It hadn’t fallen out when she sat down. The small victory gave her a brief moment of pleasure.
“You don’t need nothing. Stop whining, and get down there.” Zach nudged Edna and Shoes forward through the basement door. She heard the lock click as she felt her way gingerly down the steps with Shoes close behind. When they reached the hard-packed floor, she discovered what Shoes had been talking about. The bare bulb hanging from the ceiling at the foot of the stairs shed little light in the junk-filled basement. She pulled the penlight out of her pocket and turned it on.
“Where’d you get . . . “ Shoes sputtered.
“Shhh.” Edna hissed. Muffled sounds were coming from somewhere to her left. Was it Danny? Tipping her head and listening intently, she tried to pinpoint where the faint noise was coming from. Slowly, she circled behind the creaky wooden steps. Weaving through broken chairs, bureaus with missing drawers, lamps without shades and miscellaneous other discarded items, she followed the sounds until she was behind an old oil-burning furnace.
“ … gonna to do with them?” It was a faint, tinny version of Zach’s voice.
“They’re going to have a little accident.” Dee’s voice, hollow and diffused but discernable.
Shoes, who had trailed Edna to the far wall, started to speak, but she stopped him with a raised hand, then pointed her light upwards toward what looked like relatively new aluminum ductwork from which the voices echoed. Apparently, Dee and Zach were talking somewhere near a vent.
“What kind of accident?” Zach’s bass rumbled through the pipes.
“How about we push her car into the sea out there at the point? It’ll look like she was running away after kidnapping the kid, missed the bridge in the storm, and landed in the water.”
“What if she gets away? We can’t tie her up if she’s supposed to be driving. She could …”
“Stop worrying. I’ve already taken care of it. In another hour, she’ll be too sick to even lift her head. I used twice the yew for this tea as I did for Tom. She didn’t drink a whole cup, but she drank enough. We’ll tape the kid’s hands and feet, though. It’ll look like she did it.”
“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
“Isn’t that why you love me—for my mind?”
Their mixed laughter tumbled around and around the aluminum ducts before Dee said, “Help me carry these things to the kitchen. I’ll get rid of the tea, then we’ve got some details to work out. With the kid out of the way, there’ll be nobody to link me to Tom Thursday afternoon, and with her out of the way, there’ll be nobody to say she wasn’t the one who poisoned him.”
As the voices from upstairs faded and died, Edna turned her light to reflect on Shoes’ face. He looked stunned. “They’re gonna kill you and that boy.” He waggled his head. “I didn’t agree to no killing. She said she only wanted to scare the kid. I wouldna grabbed him, if I thought she was gonna hurt him.”
Edna felt a raging fury at the stupidity of this man, but she couldn’t let it overwhelm her while there was the slightest chance he might assist them. “We’ve got to find Danny,” she said, pushing past him. “You have to help me get him out of here.”
“What can I do? I don’t even have a flashlight.”
She was beginning to hate the sound of his whiny voice as he tagged after her. Maybe if Danny recognized her voice, he’d come out. She wasn’t certain how handicapped he was without his hearing aid, but she would try. Since Shoes is sticking so close, I might as well find out something while I can, she thought. Aloud, she said, “Is this where you’ve been hiding for the past few weeks? The police have been looking for you, you know, and your sister must be worried sick.”
“No.” Shoes seemed surprised. “I’ve been out of town. Dee said she told Bev where I went. It was her sent me to Boston with a bunch of paintings for Zach. She said they’d get busted up if they were transported in the semi and that she’d tell Bev where I was.”
Edna’s mind reeled. So he and Dee were mixed up with the antique burglaries, too. She hadn’t just stumbled over Tom’s murderer, she had fallen into a den of thieves—she grimaced inwardly at the trite, but appropriate expression—and Shoes was one of them. As she poked into cabinets and behind bureaus, she spoke nonchalantly, wanting Shoes to believe she knew more than she did. “That shouldn’t have taken two weeks, just driving to Boston.”
“No, it didn’t.” Shoes sounded petulant. “When I got to the warehouse, Zach loaded more stuff in the van and said to follow the big truck up to Montreal. Said he’d call Dee and she could tell Bev for me.”
“That still wouldn’t take nearly two weeks,” Edna said, but she was beginning to get the idea that, for some reason, Dee and Zach had kept Shoes moving and out of touch. “Why didn’t you call your sister from the road? You have a cell phone, don’t you?”
“She don’t know nothing about the mess I’m in.” Shoes’ voice held a note of despair. “She’d have my hide, if she knew, but I was doin’ it for her.” He took hold of Edna’s arm, but she shook him off and moved to shine her light behind the sagging sofa they had come to. “I never could lie to my sister. Dee was supposed to come up with a story that would explain why I was away. They promised it’d be my last job. No more breaking into houses. I could take my money and start my handyman business like I always wanted.”
“How did you get mixed up in all this, in robbing people’s homes, I mean?” Edna had covered the back corner and returned to the stairs. She needed to sit down for a minute, and the steps looked sturdier than any of the chairs she had seen so far. She heard the sound of water running through the plumbing overhead and knew Dee was busy getting rid of the poisoned tea. Thank goodness I didn’t drink any, she thought with a shudder.
Shoes sat on a bottom tread next to her. There was barely enough room for the two to sit side by side, but she shifted to give him room, not wanting to antagonize him before she had found Danny. “Why are you helping these people?” She couldn’t hide the contempt in her question.
He heaved a sigh and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped and head down. “She told me she’d ruin Bev’s business if I didn’t cooperate.”
“Who, Dee?”
He nodded. “I’m an ex-con, out on parole. If the folks in town knew, they wouldn’t let my sister near their homes.”
“But Housekeeper Helper clients are the ones who’ve been robbed,” Edna said, not certain she understood his reasoning. “If you didn’t want to hurt her business, why steal from people she cleans for?”
“Yeah, I know it don’t make no sense,” he grunted, still looking between his knees at the floor,“ but
it was easy to get Bev talking about the people she works for. I could find out what places were going to be empty and for how long. I copied her keys. I got a machine does that. Then I put ‘em back before she missed them.” He groaned and held his head. “She’s gonna kill me when she finds out.”
“And this arrangement was just between Dee and you?” Edna wasn’t quite convinced of Beverly Lewis’s innocence. After all, she had been with this little group at Quincy Market.
“Yeah.” Shoes turned his head to look at her. “Dee was my sister’s first customer when Bev set herself up here. The woman who used to clean this place quit when Dee married the old guy. Guess the new Mrs. Tolkheim didn’t get along with …“ He hesitated. “I think her name was Shaffer. So Dee hired Bev. Then, when the Shaffer dame retired, people started wantin’ Housekeeper Helpers to come work for them.”
Edna remembered Tuck telling her how surprised everyone was when Muriel Shaffer moved to Florida. Now, it looked as if Dee might have had a hand in that decision, as well. “So why would she threaten you?” Parts of the story still didn’t sound right to her.
“I’m trying to tell you.” He sounded exasperated. “When I got paroled a few months ago, Bev told me she thought she could get work for me with her customers, you know, offer them a kind of extended service. She would find something needed fixin’ at a house and offer ‘em my services. I’m pretty handy, you know.” Edna heard a note of pride in his voice.
“But you’re stealing from these people, you and your sister and Dee and Zach.”
“No.” Shoes pushed himself off the stair, turned around and bent toward her, angry. “It isn’t like that. I told you, Bev doesn’t know anything about it.”
“Then why was she with you in Boston? My daughter has pictures of you and her sitting at an outside café with Zach and Dee.” Guessing Dee was the fourth person, Edna didn’t try to suppress her own anger, but she kept her voice low, not wanting to draw the attention of the two upstairs. Did Shoes take her for a fool?
“That was Dee’s idea. She knew I wouldn’t say anything, not in front of my sister, so she invited Bev to come to Boston and have lunch with us when we were supposed to be meeting with Zach. She was showing me she could tell my sister all about it anytime she wanted, and there was nothing I could do. That was after I told her I wasn’t going to move any more stolen paintings or get her any more keys.”
“How did Dee know you’d been in prison?”
Shoes scuffed the toe of one sneaker along the dirt floor. “That was my fault. I was out here on a job and got to talking with her. Guess I let something slip, and she starts asking me questions until I told her about my rap sheet for B and E.”
“B and E?” Edna asked.
“Breakin’ and enterin’.”
Edna was silent for a minute, beginning to understand a little of how Dee might think. Maybe she was afraid she had gone too far that day in Boston and thought keeping Shoes out of town for a while would cool him off. Then another thought occurred to her. “When did you get back to town?”
“Late Sunday. Why?”
“Was it you who broke into my house and scared me half to death?”
“Yeah, that was me and Dee. Only you wasn’t supposed to be home,” he said, sounding defensive and accusatory at the same time.
“Why did you break in? What were you after?”
“Nothing. Dee just wanted to know what it felt like, you know, to break into someone’s house. She told me you were away. It sounded weird to me, but … ” He shrugged. “I don’t question those that are paying me.”
Edna felt a new surge of anger, aimed solely at Dee this time. She knew Edna had come home Sunday morning. She’d had lunch with Mary and Edna, most likely scheming right then how to frighten Edna. “Who broke into my daughter’s home and studio? Who stole the pictures and negatives?”
“I don’t know.” The whine in his tone had returned. “Some guy works for Zach. Somehow Dee found out about the pictures this broad … uh, I mean, your daughter had taken and told Zach to get rid of them and any negatives.”
Just then, Edna heard a key being turned in the lock at the top of the stairs. Flicking off her light, she leaped to her feet as the door swung open.
“Well, isn’t this cozy.” Zach was outlined in the doorway. His tone turned harsh as he glowered at them. “What’re you doing just standing there? You started looking for the kid yet?”
Edna felt suddenly giddy, remembering the punch line from an old joke, something about, “We’re looking here because this is where the light is,” as she heard Shoes whimper.
“We were talking.”
“Yes,” Edna cut in quickly, not wanting him to give anything away. “We thought if Danny heard my voice, he might come out of hiding.” She didn’t know how much Zach or Shoes knew about Danny and his hearing problem but doubted it was more than she knew herself.
“Shoes, get up here. We need you to do something. And you there, woman, try harder to find that boy. You’re not getting out of here ‘til you do, and we ain’t got all day.”
As she watched Shoes climb the stairs, Edna thought it would help if Dee and Zach were convinced that at least part of their plan was working. “Wait. Before you lock me in again, may I have some water? I’m not feeling well.”
“That so?” Zach chuckled, then said with a sneer, “You’ll get your water after you find the kid.” With that, he stepped aside to let Shoes pass, then slammed the door.
Edna heard the key turn in the lock before she switched on the penlight again and began to crisscross sections of the cellar she hadn’t already explored. She pointed the small beam into every nook and cranny she could find. Once, she thought she heard voices again in the ductwork but didn’t take time to go behind the boiler to listen. She was getting frantic. Where was Danny?
Having lost all track of time and shivering from the cold, she finally ran out of places to look. The search ended near a double-wide wooden door. She knew from having a similar one in her own house that it concealed the stone steps of the bulkhead. Her heart leapt. If the bulkhead was unlocked, she could go get help.
She played her light over the frame. Both sides of the flimsy partition were constructed of wide, ancient-looking slats. Instead of a latch, a rope knot stuck out of a small hole in the lefthand panel. It was a makeshift handle, the likes of which she hadn’t seen in a long time. Whoever used this door last had gone out through the bulkhead, or the long end of the rope would have been hanging out on the cellar side. The beam from her penlight began to fade as she reached for the knot and pulled on the rope.
“No!” A small voice shouted as the rope was yanked from her hand.
“Danny?” She said the name almost to herself, then repeated it, louder this time. “Danny!” She grabbed for the knot again as the light in her hand dimmed, then died. “Danny, it’s Edna Davies. It’s Mrs. Davies.” She dared not speak too loudly for fear of being overheard by the people upstairs.
She tugged again on the rope, feeling some resistance, but managed to pull it out of the boy’s grasp. Opening the door just wide enough to slip through, she groped in the dark, trying to find Tom’s grandson. “Danny.” She kept repeating his name, hoping he would recognize her voice without his hearing aid.
Finally, she felt cloth and grabbed for a better hold, but he wriggled free and scrambled upwards, out of her reach. The stone steps were damp and cold from rainwater leaking through the slanted bulkhead at the top of the long narrow stairs. She could hear the storm raging above their heads. “Danny.” She almost shouted, wondering again how much he could hear.
Sensing a sudden movement to her right as he tried to dash past her, Edna lunged out with one hand and grabbed his arm. It was a lucky grasp that caught him just above his elbow. She held on and pulled him to her. “Danny, Danny,” she crooned, folding him in her arms. Only then did he seem to realize she was a friend and stopped struggling. With a strangled cry, he folded his arms against his chest and curled
into her warmth. Rocking back and forth on the cold stone steps, Edna cooed and shushed as Danny shivered and sobbed in her arms.
They hadn’t been huddled together long when Edna heard scratching over her head. Snuffling and hard breathing were followed by a loud bark, then another. Danny squirmed out of her arms and started banging on the wood of the bulkhead with the flat of his hand. “’ank, ‘ank,” he shouted.
Hank? Was it really his dog?
As the barking continued, Edna thought she recognized him too, but how in the world …
“Danny?” That was Mary’s voice. What was she doing here?
“Mary!” Edna shouted.
“’ank!” Danny yelled.
“Edna?” Mary’s voice seemed to be just on the other side of the seam in the bulkhead doors. Hank stopped barking.
“Yes. I’m down here with Danny. Can you get us out?”
“There’s a padlock. I’ve got to get something to pry it open.”
“Be careful. There are two men upstairs with Dee.”
Mary’s tone was quieter when she said, “I know. I just talked to them.”
Twenty-Two
At the sound of Edna’s and Mary’s voices, Danny had stopped banging on the boards and climbed back into Edna’s lap. His small arms went around her neck, and his soft cheek pressed hard against hers. For what seemed like an eternity, all she heard was the rain drumming on the wood above her head as she hugged the boy to her and tried to keep him warm.
“Edna?” Mary had returned. “I can’t find anything to use as a pry bar, so I’m going to try to shoot off the padlock. I need you and Danny to move way over to your left as you face my voice.”
A minute after doing as instructed, Edna heard the shot. Danny’s head was beneath her chin with one of her hands over his ear, pressing the other against her chest. She had only one hand free to hold over one of her own ears, but the sound wasn’t as loud as she had expected. Would Dee or Zach have heard it upstairs in the house? She started to hope they might escape.