Читать книгу The Beastly Island Murder - Carol W. Hazelwood - Страница 10

The following day while Emma Mae worked in the front of the store, Jennifer ensconced herself in the office on the pretext of doing paper work. She didn’t want to deceive her aunt, but thought it best to keep her recent discovery private, at least for now. Her concentration splintered between appraising Wedgeworth’s books, researching Lotti Jacobi, and learning more about Rick Carlson.

Her first call was to Ronald Arnett, the executor of Helen Jacobi’s estate. A year and a half ago when she’d discovered her sister’s book had come from a donation by the Jacobi estate, she’d questioned him at such length that he’d become exasperated with her. Now when she phoned him, she heard the exasperation in his voice.

“Yes, I remember you, Miss Frost,” he said.

“Mr. Arnett, since I last talked to you, I’ve become a rare book dealer. I have a client who bought a few books that the Jacobi estate had donated to the library, and he’s interested in their provenance.”

“Miss Frost,” he said in a high tenor voice, “the books were donated. The estate has been settled, the heir has no claim on them.”

“I should have asked you back then who sent them to the library.”

“Miss Abby Gardner, Helen Jacobi’s housekeeper gathered all of her mistresses things and meted them out to various charities. I saw no reason to interfere. There was little of value in the estate other than the house. It’s been sold and the funds turned over to the only living heir.”

“Yes. I remember you said he lived in Israel. Do you happen to know if Helen Jacobi was related, however distantly, to the famous photographer, Lotti Jacobi?”

“There had been some talk of a famous relative, but I have no facts to back up the rumor.”

“Could you give me the names of anyone close to Helen Jacobi? Perhaps I could contact the heir.”

There was a sigh at the other end of the line. “You are most persistent, Miss Frost, a characteristic that would do you well in the practice of law. However, I’m afraid Miss Jacobi was a recluse.”

“Do you have Miss Gardner’s phone number and address?”

“I’ll transfer you to my secretary for that information. Just a minute.”

Jennifer drummed her fingers on her desk while she waited. Soon a woman’s voice came on the line and gave her Miss Gardner’s information.

Before the woman could hang up, Jennifer asked, “Could you give me the name and contact information of the Jacobi heir in Israel?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize Mr. Arnett wanted you to have that as well. I’ll have to go to another file. Why don’t I fax it to you.”

“Of course.” Jennifer gave her the fax number and hung up just as Emma Mae came into the office.

“Mrs. Pickering is out front. She wants to know which of A. A Milne’s books would be best for her daughter.”

Jennifer smiled. “See if you can talk her into buying the complete collection. Dutton is the publisher. Her daughter’s the perfect age to appreciate it.”

Emma Mae frowned. “It’s expensive.”

“And beautiful.” Jennifer grinned. “If I recall it’s her daughter’s birthday. I hate to sound mercenary, but Mrs. Pickering can afford it.”

“Cheeky today, aren’t you,” Emma Mae said.

After Emma Mae went back to Mrs. Pickering to discuss her purchase, Jennifer phoned Miss Gardner. A firm voice came on the line. “Hello, who’s calling?”

Jennifer raised an eyebrow at the no nonsense attitude of the woman. “Miss Gardner. I’m Jennifer Frost. Mr. Arnett, the executor of Helen Jacobi’s estate, gave me your number.”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember the books donated to the library from your former employer?”

“Of course, I remember. Is there a problem? Are you with the library?”

“There’s no problem and I’m not with the library. I’m a book dealer. I’m trying to determine the provenance of some of the books. Do you happen to know if Helen Jacobi was related to Lotti Jacobi the famous photographer?”

“Well, Miss Jacobi rambled from time to time that she knew someone connected to movie stars and famous people. I never found out if it was true.” There was a pause on the line, then the woman added, “Was she related to someone important?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to find out. Since you were her confidante through the years, Mr. Arnett thought you might have information he didn’t have.”

“Ha. No way. The minute Miss Jacobi died, I called him; those were my orders. He took care of everything. I just bundled stuff up and sent it off to needy places. Thought the library was the best place for the books.”

“It certainly was,” Jennifer assured her. “You were very smart to have thought of that.”

“Miss Jacobi treated me well, but if those books are valuable, maybe I should take them back. I got to keep some of her other things. Nobody else gave a hoot about her.”

The woman’s comment about the value of the books rattled Jennifer. “You might check with the library if any of the books are still in the The Friends of the Library’s collection.”

“So why are you asking me about them if you don’t have them?” The woman was smart and shrewd.

“I have a client who bought some of the books,” Jennifer said, “and he’s interested in the prior owners.”

“Oh, that I wouldn’t know. Most of the books seemed old. She read a lot. Nothing else for her to do.”

“Let me give you my cell phone number, in case you think of anything that might help.”

After a few more niceties to assuage the woman’s curiosity, Jennifer hung up. For a moment she sat back to contemplate her next move.

She flipped on the computer and searched the web for Rick Carlson, but found nothing. He wasn’t listed in the phone book, and she couldn’t find his boat’s registration number even though she’d read on the boat’s transom that it was moored in Seattle.

After further futile searches, she returned to her work: shelved books, wrote invoices and paid bills. The day drew to a close with frustration riding her every move. As they closed the store for the night, Emma Mae came over to her and put her arm around Jennifer’s shoulder.

“You’ve been acting like a flea got in your britches. Are you thinking about that man who came asking for you?”

Jennifer almost laughed, since, in a way, she was. She was itching to confide in Emma Mae that she’d found Carla’s book. Although Emma Mae normally kept things to herself, this news might cross the line of her resistance. With Alex’s surprise return, she wanted no rumors to revolve around the past and Carla’s murder.