The Lost Years

67

It’s a blessing that Albert West lives only a few blocks away from us and we don’t have to bother with the car,” Alvirah remarked as she and Willy left their apartment building, walked to the corner, and turned onto Seventh Avenue. They were meeting Albert at five o’clock for a cup of coffee at a diner on Seventh Avenue near 57th Street.

Hoping against hope that she would catch Albert at home and that he would agree to meet them right away, she had been pleasantly surprised on both levels. “Willy, unless he’s a good actor, he sounded like he actually wanted to come,” she remarked.

Puffing a bit as he endeavored to keep up with Alvirah’s quick strides, Willy asked himself why these emergency meetings always seemed to come up in the middle of a Yankees game. Although Alvirah had insisted it would be perfectly okay for her to meet him in a public place by herself, Willy was taking no chances. “I’m coming with you. End of discussion.”

“Do you think that little guy is going to kidnap me in the middle of a coffee shop?” Alvirah had joked.

“Don’t be so sure he wouldn’t be capable of it. If he’s mixed up in this whole thing and he thinks that you’re onto him, he could offer to walk you home, but you might not make it.”

As they crossed the street, they could see Albert entering the diner. He was already seated at a booth when they got inside and he waved his hand to get their attention.

As soon as they settled in, a waitress came over and took their orders. All three decided on caffe latte. Alvirah could see the disappointment on the face of the young woman, who had obviously hoped for a food order that would run up the tab and bring a bigger tip.

She was surprised that after the waitress was out of earshot, Albert, in a tone that was both nervous and abrupt, said, “Alvirah, I know your reputation as a darn good detective. You certainly didn’t call me to socialize over coffee. Have you come up with anything?”

“I’ve heard a rumor. I’m not going to say where I heard it. From what I understand, you and Charles had been driving to Jonathan’s dinners together for the last year and a half since Lillian was banned from his house.”

“Yes, that’s true. Before that, Charles would go alone with Lillian and I would drive my own car.”

“Albert, the rumor I heard is that Charles has been shopping the parchment. Do you think that there is any chance that could be happening?”

She and Willy could both see in Albert’s expression his reluctance to answer.

Finally he said, “I not only think it’s happening, but I actually spoke about it to the detectives in New Jersey yesterday. I have always considered Charles to be a good friend, so it was very painful for me to talk about him in this vein.”

Alvirah sat back as the waitress placed the tall glasses of latte in front of them on the table. “Albert, what did you tell the detectives?”

“Exactly what I’m going to tell you now. Desmond Rogers, a wealthy collector beyond reproach, whom Charles defrauded a number of years ago, was the source of my information. He didn’t volunteer how he knew and I didn’t ask.”

Albert took a sip of his latte and, knowing that he was about to be cross-examined by Alvirah, repeated to her and Willy what he had told the detectives about the previous fraud involving Charles and Desmond.

“Albert, this is very important. Will you try to get Desmond on the phone right now and ask him where he got that information?”

Albert frowned. “Quite frankly, Desmond Rogers pays confidential sources in the antiquities world to keep him informed of what’s coming on the market. I am sure that he would never buy anything without impeccable provenance—which is why he would never have bid for the parchment.”

Alvirah replied, “Albert, I’m not suggesting that Rogers has done anything wrong. But you’ve told us that he lost a lot of money because of Charles. Maybe he was only too happy to pass on this kind of information. But if he or one of his sources truly does have solid proof about this, you have to know it’s probably tied in with Jonathan’s death. It’s important that he fully understand that Jonathan’s murder and the disappearance of two women who were close to him all may be connected to that parchment.”

Albert shook his head. “And you don’t think that all this hasn’t occurred to me?” he asked wearily as he pulled out his cell phone. “I absolutely trust Desmond’s integrity. He would never touch that parchment or any other stolen property, but I assure you he’ll never betray his sources. If he did, the word would get around and he’d never be able to use them again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll step outside and make the call. I’ll be right back.”

He was gone a full ten minutes. When he returned, his face was flushed and angry. “I never thought that Desmond Rogers would pull this on me. I’ve been sick ever since I told the cops what he told me about Charles. Now I find out that Desmond didn’t hear this from a reliable source. When I asked him about it, at first he hedged around and then finally admitted that he had received an anonymous call. He couldn’t even tell if it was a man or woman. The voice was husky and low. The caller said that Charles was accepting bids on the parchment and that if Desmond was interested he should give him a call.”

“I thought that might be the case,” Alvirah said with satisfaction in her voice. “What did Desmond say to that person?”

“I can’t repeat to a lady what he claims he said. And then he hung up.”

Studying Albert intently, Alvirah watched as the veins in his forehead began to bulge.

“I’m going to call those detectives first thing in the morning,” he said angrily, slapping his hand on the table. “They should know this. And I have to decide whether to admit to Charles what I said about him.”

They finished their lattes and left the diner. On the way home, Alvirah was unusually quiet. Willy knew that the wheels in her head were turning. “What did you get out of all that, honey?”

“Willy, this doesn’t mean that Charles is innocent. And this doesn’t mean that Albert was telling the truth. With all of his so-called reluctance, my gut tells me he had no problem telling the prosecutor’s office about that quote-unquote rumor. Don’t forget, he’s on their radar screen too.”

“So do you think our meeting with him was a waste of time?” Willy asked.

“Not at all, Willy,” Alvirah said as he took her arm to cross the street. “Not at all.”