„No, that’s for the fool,“ said Nedda, „the kind of person who seeks patterns that aren’t there – the sort who sees the Virgin Mary in a grocer’s deformed potato, then pays a ten-dollar admission fee to worship it. Given a fool’s nature, he deserves what he gets – a lighter wallet and nothing more.“
She covered the policeman’s hand with hers. „You’re not like that. You wouldn’t want to see the future, not even if you believed it was possible.“ No, this boy would never bow to the idea of a destiny writ in stone. „You already see a possible future – the one you can forge for yourself.“
Nedda pointed to the west card. „This is where that future begins, in your past. You became a policeman, not for the good pension plan, but because you wanted to help people. That’s your nature.“ She pointed to the south card. „This is the foundation of the matter. You’re exactly where you should be in the world. You like what you are, and that’s rare.“ Her hand drifted toward the north card. „You strive to create order out of chaos.“ Her finger landed on the east card, the immediate future. „And you will do this every day in small ways and big ones. But you already know that. You’ve made it your mission.“ She studied the remaining cards. „Now, if I’m right and your worry of the moment is me… T can tell yon that you’ll see me again.“
But would she be dead or alive?
„That was an easy one,“ she said. „I spend a great deal of my day at the windows. I’ve seen you drive by from time to time, probably more often than you should. You always slow down when you pass my house. I suspect that you keep an eye on me.“
A good guess. She had taken him by surprise.
Her hand drifted up to the last card dealt, the culmination of all that had gone before. „In this matter where our paths have crossed, we will each reap what we deserve. But then, that’s true for everyone. Hardly magic or psychic phenomena.“ She swept all the cards together. „Just a to"lto keep you focused on the road ahead.“
He must have intuited that this card play was a ruse to keep his company a while longer, for he leaned toward her, saying, „Shock is a funny thing.“ He cleared their cups from the table and set them in the sink. „Sometimes it makes people weak in the legs. Sometimes they’re afraid to be alone. If you hear any noises, or if you just feel jumpy, you can call and ask for me. I’ll be on duty for another six hours.“
The cleaning lady entered into a street right of sorts, or so she would tell it later on, as she wrestled over a wire cart filled with her supplies. The young policeman insisted on carrying it up the stairs for her, and by brute strength he won.
„I don’t tip cops!“ yelled Mrs. Ortega in Brooklynese. „Suits me fine,“ the young officer countered with his Bronx accent. „Chump change ruins the line of my uniform.“ And now that he had settled her cart by the front door to the mansion, he tipped his hat and left her standing there agape and with no comeback line.
No need to ring the bell. The door was opened wide by a woman as tall as Detective Mallory, but much older. The hair was white, her eyes pale blue, and what a curious smile. „You’re from the temp agency?“
„Lucky guess, lady. Here, you gotta sign this.“ The smaller woman handed her a work order tapped out on Mallory’s computer and guaranteed to pass for the genuine article. „The name’s Ortega,“ she said. „You can call me Mrs. Ortega.“ And by the signature, she knew this was Nedda Winter.
And now the cleaning lady had to fend off more good manners, offers of tea and conversation, for God’s sake. But she was firm. „I only got a few hours.“ Mrs. Ortega powered up her vacuum cleaner and kept her mouth closed until, an hour later, she opened the door to the closet in the foyer. „What the hell?“
The shelves were narrow for a linen closet, and they were lined with women’s hats.
„It’s a hat closet,“ said Miss Winter.
„There’s no such thing,“ said Mrs. Ortega. „You know how many years I been cleaning houses like yours? Hell, even fancier than this one, and there’s no such a thing as a damn hat closet. This is a linen closet, and you never find a linen closet in a damn foyer. But that’s not what I was talking about.“ She leaned down and picked up one hat that had fallen from a lower shelf, then pointed to a hole in the wall. „What’s that?“
„A mouse hole, I suppose. Would you like a cold beer?“
Two blocks west of Winter House and two hours later, Mrs. Ortega was sitting in the front seat of Mallory’s car. „So I says to Miss Winter, you got real classy rodents here – that’s a nice round hole. Between you and me, Mallory? I’d say that mouse used a drill with a four-inch bit. And it was a damn tall mouse. That hole was two feet off the ground.“
Mallory nodded, hardly listening.
„The back of the closet was cheap plasterboard,“ said the cleaning lady, attempting to liven up her story. „Now that’s odd because the sides are cedar. It don’t make sense. You see the problem?“ No, she guessed that Mallory had lost interest in the closets of the rich, and Mrs. Ortega was still unclear about what service she had done to warrant a hundred-dollar bill on top of her regular cleaning fee. And so she felt obliged to elaborate, drawing on her vast reading in true-crime paperbacks. „You know that house has a history, right.“
Mallory’s face had no expression that the cleaning lady could read. Mrs. Ortega offered a hint. „The Winter House Massacre? Ring any bells?“
„That’s way before Mallory’s time,“ said Riker. „Mine, too.“ He had returned from his deli run. After settling into the backseat, he handed Mrs. Ortega her requested bagel and coffee. „Now here’s our problem.“ He held out a sheet of paper with the letterhead of Crime Scene Unit. „A rookie investigator has a note here. Suspicious hole in shallow closet.“
„Crime scene, huh? Another murder. Do you know how many – “
„Don’t get excited,“ said Riker. „It was a robbery.“
„Oh, sure,“ said Mrs. Ortega. „You two turned out for a robbery.“
„That’s right,“ said Mallory, pressing another large bill into the woman’s hand. „Is there a problem here?“
„Absolutely not.“ Mrs. Ortega pocketed the bill. „So this rookie – did he mention the seam around the closet hole?“ Well, that got their attention. „The backing on that closet is old and rotted. But the hole and the seam? Not so old. Somebody cut out a section and then put it back in place. There’s a ridge of glue around the seam for the patch. And there’s dust on that ridge.“
„Well, that tears it,“ said Riker. „Whatever got walled up in the closet, it’s long gone now.“
„Tell me about Nedda Winter,“ said Mallory.
„Real jumpy. Followed me everywhere, and it wasn’t like she thought I was gonna rob her blind. She just wanted the company. Didn’t wanna be alone. Thai, was my take. 1 cieaned her room. Hardly needed it. Very neat. No personal items. There’s a metal suitcase stashed under the bed. I thought that was her house, but she acts like a real polite guest who isn’t sure how long she wants to stay. So then the little one comes home.“
„Bitty Smyth.“
„Right. Soon as I saw her, I knew which room was hers. Never had to ask. It had to be the one with all the stuffed toys on the bed. Like a kid’s room. Now that’s because she’s so small. I bet people still pat her on the head. She ‘11 have teddy bears on the bed when she’s ninety years old. Well, as soon as she showed up, I left.“
„Good job.“ Mallory nodded to the police cruiser behind her car. „That officer will drive you anywhere you want to go.“
Mrs. Ortega looked back over her shoulder to the rear window and its view of a policeman in uniform, the same cop who had wrestled her for the cleaning cart. „Good. A rematch.“ As she closed the door of the car, she leaned down to the open passenger window. „Just one more thing, you guys. Instead of asking yourselves what was walled up in that closet, you might be wondering who. It was a damned big patch.“