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“I know.”
“—and I got a real creepy feeling on the way over there, as if someone was stalking me. I guess I was nervous about breaking into Luke’s apartment. Then you turned up and walked me to my door, or to Luke’s door, actually, and then I went in and then I came back out again and then I went home. The next day I found out Marty’s baseball cards were missing. ‘They even know who took them,’ he said. ‘The insolent son of a bitch called to brag about it and they were able to trace the call.’ I couldn’t believe Luke had been so stupid. And then I found out it was you.”
“Thanks.”
“I don’t mean you were stupid. You had your own reasons for making the call, and why not make a joke out of it? You had no way of knowing Marty’s cards would turn out to be missing.”
“You’re right about that. I didn’t even know he had them in the first place.” We had been walking back toward West End as we talked, and when we reached the corner we turned uptown as if by pre-arrangement, heading toward 304. “The way you tell it,” I said, “there’s hardly any coincidence operating at all. Just that Eddie happened to be late for work, and Luke happened to be away from his apartment, and I happened to be the first guy to come along and pick up the Times.”
“That’s right.”
“I wish I knew how much of your story to believe. Is your name really Doll Cooper?”
“It is now, but you and I are the only people who know it. You gave me the name, remember? Before that I told you my name was Gwendolyn Cooper, and it is.”
“Can you prove it?”
She fished in her bag and produced a couple of plastic cards. “Here,” she said. “A brand-new ATM card from Chemical. It was Manufacturers Hanover before the merger, and I loved going to a bank that you could call Ma
I gave the cards back to her. “You gave me the right name,” I said. “How come?”
“The same reason you told me your name. We were two ships passing in the night. What reason would I have to lie to you?” She gri
“How? You’re not in the phone book.”
“I certainly am. G Cooper on East Seventy-eighth Street.”
“But I wouldn’t know to look there, would I? Because I was somehow under the impression that you lived at 304 West End Avenue.”
“You could have called me at work.”
“Where, at Faber Faber?”
“Haber Haber,” she said, “and Crowell.”
“You don’t work there anymore, remember?”
“I sometimes get calls still at the office. They take messages for me. I said I was a paralegal because that’s a lot more impressive than being a receptionist, and since I’m not either one, well, why not pick the one that sounds good?”
“You could have said you were a lawyer.”
“I almost did,” she said, “but I was afraid that might put you off. Some people don’t like lawyers.”
“Really?”
“I know it’s hard to believe. Bernie, I fibbed a little, okay? At the begi
We had stopped walking now, half a block from Number 304. She nodded meaningfully at the building. “Listen,” she said, “I’ve got a great idea. We could go there right now. I’m sure we can bluff our way past the doorman.”
“Unless it’s your Haitian friend.”
“I could have sailed right past him, too, but I wanted him to ring the apartment first. We wouldn’t have to do that this time. We could just walk in as if we lived there.”
“And then what?”
“Then you could open Luke’s door for me.”
“Luke might not like that.”
“I’m positive he’s not there,” she said. “You know what I bet happened? He stole Marty’s cards early in the week. Then he got offered a job out of town. He would have jumped at it, too. But we can always ring his bell first, if you’re nervous about picking his lock with him inside.”
“Sure, that’s a good idea,” I said. “We’ll ring his bell.”
“And if he’s there I’ll just say I came to pick up my clothes. That’s easy enough.”
“And then we can drop in on the Nugents.”
She frowned. “The Nugents? Joan and Harlan Nugent?”
“Those very Nugents. In 9-G.”
“How do you know them?”
“I don’t.”
“Then why did you mention them?”
“You’re the one who mentioned them.”
“You just did, just a minute ago. ‘And then we can drop in on the Nugents,’ those were your very words. Remember?”
“Vividly. But you mentioned them two nights ago when we were standing in front of their building.”
“I did?” She scratched her head. “Why would I do that? I barely know them.”
“Well, you’re still way ahead of me,” I said, “because I don’t know them at all. You asked Eddie when they were coming back from Europe.”
“My God,” she said. “You’re right, I did. But that was after you left, wasn’t it?” She considered this, answered her own question. “Obviously not, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. The Nugents are an older couple. They live two flights up from Luke.”
“In 9-G, if I remember correctly.”
“You mean I even mentioned the apartment number? You must have thought—”
“That I was being invited to knock off their apartment,” I finished for her. “That’s exactly what I thought. But if you really didn’t know I was a burglar—”
“How could I have known? When a man tells me he’s a bookseller I generally take his word for it.”
“Why did you mention the Nugents?”
“Because I wondered if they were back yet, that’s all. Joan Nugent is an artist, and a couple of times we met in the hall and she asked me about posing for her. The last time I ran into her in the elevator she said she and Harlan were going to Europe, but that she would get in touch when she got back.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if I want to do it, though, if it would mean coming to this building and possibly ru
“Especially if you suspect him of taking the cards.”
“It’s more than a suspicion,” she said. “I’m sure of it, and that’s all the more reason why I’d like to get my stuff out of there before he comes back. Suppose his place gets raided and my things wind up in an evidence locker?”
“It could happen.”
“I’d hate that.” She put her hand on my arm. “So what do you say, Bernie? Want to be a real sweetie and show me how good you are at opening locks?”
CHAPTER Thirteen
Ten minutes later we were sitting in a Blimpie Base on Broadway, pla
I started out by telling Doll I didn’t want to have anything to do with it. I’d stayed away from burglary for over a year. Then all I’d done was think about knocking off an apartment and the next thing I knew I was spending the night in a cell.
“I’d like to help,” I said. “You left some clothes in Luke’s apartment and naturally you wanted them back. But it seems to me there are a couple of alternatives to illegal entry. You could wait until he gets back and give him a call, or you could hit Marty up for a loan and go shopping.”
“Forget the clothes,” she said.
“Exactly. Forget them and buy new ones.”
Forget she’d even mentioned the clothes, she said. The big reason to break into Luke’s apartment was to recover Marty’s baseball cards. If Luke had left town in response to a call with an offer of work, he had probably rushed off before he had an opportunity to convert the baseball card collection into cash. Maybe he was in no rush, maybe he’d just as soon let the heat die down while he figured out the best way to sell them.