A Tale Оf Two Kitties

chapter 13

I couldn’t get what Oren had told me about Celia Hunter out of my mind. Was his cousin Ira right? Had Celia conspired with Victor Janes to end his brother’s marriage so she could have Leo for herself? The whole thing reminded me of a gothic romance. All we needed was a lonely mansion and a dark and stormy night. I had no idea how this new piece of information fit into the puzzle. Based on the letter from Meredith it seemed as though she hadn’t known about her best friend plotting to break up her marriage. Had Leo known? And did it have anything to do with his death?

I took the later supper break. I carried my bowl of vegetable soup back to my office instead of eating in the staff room. My mind was going in circles. I had all these pieces of information and no way to tie them all together or tie them to Leo’s killer.

I wished I knew a little more about blackjack. I’d played poker before, but all I knew about blackjack was the basic rules. On the other hand, I did know someone who knew a lot more about casinos and gambling than I did. My mother. My mother was primarily a stage actor, but she did take on small film and TV roles if the part captured her fancy.

For the past month Mom and Dad had been in Los Angles. They’d originally only planned to stay for two weeks while my mother did a brief guest stint on The Wild and Wonderful. She was incredibly popular with fans of the racy soap opera, who had been lobbying for a return performance since her last visit. On her second day on the set her visit had been extended by an additional three weeks.

Several years ago, Mom had had a small role in a movie set in a casino in Las Vegas. She’d flirted shamelessly—on camera—with Denzel Washington. The two of them had a chemistry that surprised everyone, except Dad and me. My mother had chemistry with everyone she worked with.

I checked the time. Los Angeles was two hours behind Mayville Heights. If I was lucky Mom was back from the set. If she wasn’t I could try her when I got home. It was Dad who answered. “Hi, sweetie,” he said. “It’s wonderful to hear your voice.”

“It’s good to hear yours, too,” I said. “How’s Los Angeles?”

“Busy. They’re using your mother as much as they can, because we’ll be leaving in another week. And everywhere we go someone recognizes her. Not to mention men half my age are putting the moves on her right in front of me.”

“He’s exaggerating,” I heard Mom call in the background.

I laughed. It didn’t matter how many men tried to charm my mother. She only had eyes for my father. She told me once that being divorced from Dad showed her that she didn’t need a man she could live with. She needed a man she couldn’t live without.

“May I talk to her, please?” I said.

“Of course,” he said. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Dad.” I leaned back in my chair and my mother’s voice came through the phone, just as full of warmth as if she’d been in the room with me.

“Hello, Katydid,” she said. “How are you?”

The sound of my mom’s voice always made me smile. She could be dramatic and aggravating and she’d never been the make-cookies or take-me-to-girl-scouts kind of parent, which I’d longed for at times growing up. But she loved me and Sara and Ethan with the ferocity of a mama grizzly bear and I knew no matter what any of us did in life, she always had our backs. “I’m fine,” I said.

“And how are Owen and Hercules?”

“They’re both all right now, but Owen did have a bit of an altercation with a stray dog last week.”

“Is Owen all right?” she asked, and I could hear the concern in her voice. Mom and the cats had bonded the first time she came for a visit.

“He had to have stitches and wear a fabric cone for a few days, but he had Marcus feeding him things he probably shouldn’t have had and me carrying him everywhere, so he survived. And for the record, according to Roma the dog looked worse.”

Mom laughed. “That’s probably the last cat he’ll tangle with,” she said. “And how’s Marcus?” There was a teasing edge to her voice that made me blush even though she couldn’t see me.

“Perfect as always,” I said.

“You’re happy.” It wasn’t a question.

“We are.” I pictured her probably curled up in a big chair, elbow on the armrest and her head propped on her hand, and a wave of homesickness rolled over me.

“I have a feeling you didn’t call just to tell me how terrific Marcus is,” she said. “So what’s up?”

“I’m hoping you can teach me about playing blackjack.”

“Are you planning a career change you haven’t told me about?”

I laughed and propped my feet on the edge of my desk. “No. Do you remember me telling you about Mia Janes, who works for me at the library, and her dad?”

“Simon,” Mom said. “The developer.”

“Yes.”

“This has something to do with his father’s death, doesn’t it?” My mother read the Mayville Heights Chronicle every morning online. I should have guessed she’d make the connection.

“Leo—Simon’s father—played blackjack. He was pretty good.” The brownie I’d brought for dessert was still sitting on top of my desk next to a half-warm cup of coffee. I broke off a piece and popped it into my mouth.

“Did it get him killed?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “All I can tell you is that he won around a million dollars at one particular casino and no one seems to know for sure exactly how he did it.”

“I’m surprised he wasn’t banned from the tables.”

“He was. And not just at that casino.”

“How much do you know about the game?” Mom asked.

“I understand the rules,” I said. “Players compete against the dealer but not against each other. The object of the game is to beat the dealer, by getting twenty-one points with your first two cards, say with an ace and a queen, or having your final score be more than the dealer’s without going over twenty-one, or by the dealer going bust.” I had another bite of my brownie.

“That’s right,” she said. “Face cards are worth ten and an ace can be worth one or eleven. The dealer deals two cards to everyone from the shoe.”

“The shoe holds the cards, right?” I said.

“Yes.” I could picture my mother nodding on the other end of the phone. “Invented, by the way, by John Scarne, one of the most incredible magicians I’ve ever seen. Before that the game was dealt from a single deck. The shoe can hold between two and eight decks of cards.”

I did a little math in my head. “So, wait a minute; using more cards is going to give an advantage to the casino.”

“Exactly,” Mom said. “And it works against someone like Mr. Janes, who had to have been counting cards to have won that much money.”

“He did have a PhD in math,” I said.

“So he probably had math skills that were better than the average person.”

“Yes.” I checked my watch. I only had a few minutes left on my supper break.

“After those first two cards are dealt a player has several choices. ‘Hit’ means take another card from the dealer.”

“And ‘stand’ means you don’t want any more cards.”

“That’s right,” Mom said. “‘Double down’ means you can increase your original bet. If your first two cards are worth the same you can split them into two hands. That’s called a split.”

“So if Leo was counting cards, what was he doing?” I said. “I’m guessing it means keeping track of what’s been dealt and what cards are left to be played.”

“Essentially that’s it. A good card counter knows what the odds are of getting the card he needs. But keep in mind not only is the dealer watching, there are also cameras overhead watching. Card counters get in trouble when it’s obvious what they’re doing, for instance when everyone can see them looking around. I take it Mr. Janes didn’t do anything to give himself away.”

“I guess not,” I said.

“Smart man,” Mom said, and I caught a hint of approval in her voice. “Keep in mind,” she continued, “it may be considered to be wrong by the casinos but card counting isn’t illegal, not unless the player is using something other than his own mental acuity—some kind of computer for instance.”

“So why was Simon banned from playing anymore?”

“Because a casino is private property. Just the way you can refuse to let someone in your house, a casino can refuse to let someone play. If I’m in your house after I’ve been told I’m not welcome, that’s considered trespassing and that is a crime. The same would be true in a casino.”

I checked my watch again. It was almost time to get back to work. “Thanks, Mom,” I said. “This helps a lot.”

“You’re welcome, Katydid,” she said. “Stay safe. Tell Marcus I said hello. And tell Maggie there’s a surprise wedding coming on the show.”

To my surprise Maggie had turned out to be a huge fan of The Wild and Wonderful. “Whose?” I asked. “Wait a minute, are you getting married? Is that why they wanted you for more shows?”

“You know I can’t tell you that,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

I ended the call and set my cell on top of the desk.

Card counting was a lot harder than I’d realized. Leo had been good enough that no one knew how he was doing whatever it was he’d been doing. I could see why Elias wanted to figure that out, why any casino owner would. Had Leo taught his technique to some of his students? He’d already cost Elias a million dollars. How much money had they, or could they, win as well?

I headed back downstairs and joined Mary at the circulation desk. She was putting books to be reshelved on the cart while I sorted through the ones that had come in on reserve. The third book I picked was for Leo Janes.

“We can cancel this one,” I said to Mary. “It was for Leo.”

She took the book from me and turned it over to look at the back cover blurb. “I suggested this one,” she said. “Leo came back in the morning he was . . . The morning he died. I got him set up with a temporary card and he asked me if I knew anything about theatrical makeup.” She raised an eyebrow. “I told him I knew a few things about being onstage.”

I was guessing that Mary had learned a lot of things from dancing at The Brick. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what they all were.

She handed the book back to me. “I suggested this book and requested it for him.”

I put the book on the counter to be returned to the library it had been requested from. “Why was Leo interested in stage makeup?” I asked.

Mary shrugged. “He didn’t say, but I know that Mia is thinking of getting involved in the spring production at the high school. It was probably just his way of staying involved in her life. According to Mia he was interested in whatever she was doing.”

“From what I heard about the man, he was a good grandfather.”

Mary nodded. “What happened to him wasn’t fair.”

I glanced at the makeup book that Leo would never get to read with Mia. “Life really isn’t fair sometimes,” I said.

“I’ve always hated that,” Mary said with a wry smile. She looked over her shoulder toward the computer room. “Change of subject. So, did Maggie figure out where she’s going to display those old photos?”

“I think so,” I said. I pointed at the side wall. “I think she’s going to use that wall.”

Mary was wearing her favorite fall-themed sweater—orange and brown with big embroidered yellow and red leaves. She brushed some bits of paper off the front. “I’m looking forward to seeing those old photos framed.”

“Me too,” I said. “And Maggie’s convinced both Thorsten and Harrison to let her display the mail they received.”

Mary laughed. “Well, in Thorsten’s case I don’t think it was the first card like that he received. He cut a pretty wide swath when he was younger.”

Since rumor had it that Mary herself had been part of that swath I decided not to comment.

She was still staring across the room with a thoughtful look on her face. “You know, if this were a movie something dramatic would have happened because someone didn’t get their mail when they were supposed to,” she said.

“Mary Lowe, do you have a secret romantic side?” I teased.

“I like a good happily ever after once in a while,” she said, her eyes gleaming.

“So have you heard of anything romantic happening because of a piece of that found mail?”

She shook her head. “Burtis got a note from the school about Brady. But I don’t think there were any love letters found. I don’t think there were that many pieces of mail behind the wall. You know about Thorsten and Harrison.” She started ticking off names on her fingers. “One of Lita’s cousins got something—another Christmas card, I think—and then there was Leo and maybe two or three other people and that’s it.” She’d started stacking books on the cart again.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Leo got one of those pieces of mail?”

Mary nodded but she didn’t turn around, so she didn’t see what had to be a shocked expression on my face. “He said it was nothing important.”

Meredith Janes had written a letter to her best friend that had ended up behind that wall at the post office. Now I wondered, could she have written one to her husband as well?

• • •

Marcus had hockey practice so I headed home to Owen and Hercules when the library closed. Harry had left a note telling me that he’d fixed the side of the raised bed in the backyard and he’d be back on Monday with some topsoil and mulch to replace what had been lost.

I told the boys about my conversation with Oren. “And Leo Janes got one of those pieces of mail that were found at the post office,” I said as I changed into yoga pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. “Do you think it’s possible it was from Meredith?”

Hercules made a face. It seemed he wasn’t sure, either.

“You know, all we seem to have is a bunch of random facts and no way to connect them all together.” I rubbed the space between my eyebrows. “This just gives me a headache.”

“Mrr,” Hercules said, heading for the door. He stopped and looked back over his shoulder before heading for the stairs, his way of saying a treat would probably make me feel better.

Who was I to argue?

By the time I’d finished half a mug of hot chocolate and two pumpkin-spice chocolate-chip cookies I did feel better. I had about an hour before Marcus was going to be finished at hockey practice. I set my laptop on the table. “Right now we don’t have any way of finding out what the piece of mail was that Leo got. But we could see what else we can find out about Celia Hunter.”

Herc jumped up onto my lap and put one paw on the cover of the computer. We were in agreement.

Between my skill with a search engine and the serendipity of Hercules randomly touching the keyboard and somehow finding something useful, we learned quite a bit about Celia Hunter.

For one thing, she was in a relationship with a man named Edmund Holloway. Holloway was a successful businessman in his early seventies who owned, among other things, the largest organic baby food company in North America. He had seven children and twelve grandchildren. He and Celia had met at the 55+ Games, where both had been part of the dragon boat team. Celia, it seemed, had been a competitive rower in college. Edmund Holloway had taken up cross-country in college. I found a photo of the dragon boat in one of their races, crew straining as they sliced through the water toward the finish line, half a boat length ahead of their closest competitor.

Hercules seemed to study the image. He put his paw on the screen.

“Yes, I see that,” I said. Celia Hunter had strong arms. Were they strong enough to have picked up that sculpture and killed Leo Janes?