The Mysteries of Max: Books 25-27

Chapter 36

“This is boring,” said Scarlett with a yawn.

“Stakeouts are always boring,” said Vesta as she mimicked the yawn and added some yawnage of her own.

Both women were sitting in Vesta’s daughter’s little red Peugeot and watching the house of Quintin Gardner’s sister. Vesta had a hunch that the woman was somehow involved in all of this, and wanted to find out more about her.

So far she’d found out zilch, as there had been no movement in or outside the house all night.

“You see why we need a new car?” said Vesta. “A decent stakeout needs a nice set of wheels. Like a van, maybe. Then at least you can conduct your stakeout in comfort.”

“A stakeout in style,” chimed in Scarlett.

“Sure. You can have dinner in your van while your partner keeps watch, or even a nap in the back of the van. And no one will ever be the wiser, as they’ll simply think it’s a van belonging to the gas company, or whatever.”

“What we should do is bug that house,” said Scarlett, gesturing with her chin to Marcia Gardner’s brownstone. “We should break in, hang those little cameras everywhere, and then we can watch the screens in our van, like they do in the movies.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be something?” said Vesta with a grin. “Now that would be the kind of watch I always wanted to be a part of.”

“Me, too. A watch to watch out for.”

“Or we could always send in the cats,” said Vesta. “They could be our eyes and ears.”

“Why didn’t your cats join us tonight?”

“Ah, politics,” said Vesta with a wave of the hand. “They’re mostly loyal to Odelia, and since Chase declared war on the watch, they were obviously forced to take sides, and since I didn’t want to make the situation any harder for them, I decided not to bother.”

“Your cats are phenomenal,” said Scarlett as she flipped down the visor and checked her look in the mirror. “They’re the best little detectives I’ve ever seen. A force to be reckoned with.”

“Down!” suddenly said Vesta. “Here she comes!”

The door to the brownstone had opened and Marcia Gardner had appeared.

She was wearing a trench coat and sunglasses, even though it was not the shank of the afternoon—more like the middle of the night.

“Where is she going, I wonder,” Scarlett whispered, as if afraid Marcia would hear her, even though they were parked across the street, and well out of earshot.

“No idea, but I’m on her like a cockroach on a tasty meatball,” said Vesta, turning the ignition and getting ready to rock and roll.

Marcia had gotten into her car and now took off, immediately followed by Vesta, who had to perform a U-turn and did so by clipping a couple of garbage bins, sending them tumbling down the road.

“Careful!” said Scarlett.

“I know what I’m doing,” hissed Vesta, almost hitting a tree.

“Keep your distance—she’ll make us!”

“I am keeping my distance!”

She was practically on the woman’s tail fender, almost rear-ending her.

“Where did you learn how to drive?”

“For your information I was self-taught.”

“And it shows. Watch it—you’re going to hit her!”

“Do you want to drive, wise-ass?”

“I think I’d probably do a better job than you, Steve McQueen.”

“She’s getting away!” said Vesta, as Marcia was increasing her lead by two whole inches.

“Oh, will you relax already? You must be the worst car chaser in the history of car chasing.”

Marcia took a corner and so did Vesta, clipping a couple more garbage cans and sending them skipping across the intersection.

Scarlett closed her eyes. “Tell me when it’s over, will you? I can’t watch this.”

But Vesta, who didn’t want to get caught any more than Scarlett, eased up on the accelerator and soon was following the other woman at a more sedate pace, through the quiet streets of Hampton Cove, and suddenly she said, “I know where she’s going!”

Scarlett opened her eyes again. “The cops? To report she’s being followed by a crazy old lady?”

“Who are you calling old, you dinosaur?”

“So where is she going, smart-ass?”

“Her brother’s house!” And lo and behold: Marcia pulled her car to a stop right in front of Quintin Gardner’s house and soon was getting out, glancing left and right as she did, then crossing the street.

Vesta, who’d had the sense to park far enough so as not to be conspicuous, said, “Let’s go!”

“Let’s go where?!”

“Let’s go snoop!”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” muttered Scarlett, and both women got out and hurried over to the house of their target, keeping low and hunched over like they’d seen a million times in cop shows and the movies.

“What are you going to do? Ring the bell and ask what the hell she’s doing there?”

“Don’t be silly. We’re going to do this the old-fashioned way: we’re going to put our ears to the window and eavesdrop!”

And as she tripped up to the house, Scarlett saw what her friend meant: they could conveniently hide out in front of the house, and peek in through the window.

Marcia had disappeared inside, and the lights had come on in one of the front rooms, where presumably brother and sister were now gathered for their midnight meeting.

Both women emerged from the bushes, synchronized like a pair of Esther Williamses rising from the pool, and glanced in through the window.

And sure enough: inside they could see Quintin Gardner, his back to them, and Marcia Gardner, who was pacing the floor while she talked a mile a minute.

“I can’t hear what they’re saying,” Scarlett lamented.

“We should have those listening devices,” said Vesta. “I think they sell them online. Like suction cups. You put them against the window and you can hear everything as if you’re in the room.”

She put her ear to the window, pretending for a moment it was just such a suction cup, and listened intently, then shook her head. “Nah. I got nothing.”

Scarlett now attempted the same but likewise had to admit defeat. “Double glazing,” she said. “Whoever invented double glazing must have been a moron.”

And as she raised her eyes to the glass once more, suddenly she saw that Marcia was staring straight at her!

She immediately ducked down, but too late. Moments later the window was yanked open and Marcia appeared. “Hey, you!” she said. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Walking my dog?” Scarlett tried, and glanced down at her friend, who gave Marcia a sheepish grin.