The Diviners
By the end of the picture, they were all misty-eyed—Mabel and Theta cried for the dead movie star; Evie for her brother.
“There’ll never be another like Rudy,” Mabel said, blowing her nose.
“You said it, sister,” Theta purred as they stepped out into the late-afternoon sun. She stopped when she saw Evie’s angry face. “Whatsa matter, Evil?”
“Sam. Lloyd,” Evie growled. She took off at a clip toward a cluster of people who were watching a three-card monte game.
“Who’s Sam Lloyd?” Mabel asked Theta.
“Don’t know,” Theta said. “But I’m pretty sure he’s a dead man.”
“Watch the Queen of Hearts, folks. She’s the money card.” Sam arranged three cards on top of a cardboard box, moving them around so quickly they were a blur. “Now, sir, sir—yes, you. Would you care to wager a guess? There’s no charge for this first round. Just to show you it’s an honest game I’m running.”
Evie turned the box over, upsetting the cards and the money. “Remember me, Casanova?”
It took Sam a minute, but then he smiled. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite nun. How’s the Mother Superior, sister?”
“Who, me? Do I look like a thief?”
“And how!”
The crowd watched the argument with interest, and Sam looked around nervously. He snugged his Greek fisherman’s cap low over his brow. “Doll, I’m sorry you got fleeced, but it wasn’t me.”
“If you don’t want me to call a cop over here right this second and tell him you just tried to take advantage of me, you will give me my twenty dollars.”
“Now, sister, you wouldn’t—”
“I pos-i-tute-ly would! Do you know the Museum of American Folklore, Superstition, and the Occult?”
“Yeah, I know it, but—”
“You can find me there. You’d better bring me my twenty bucks if you know what’s good for you.”
Evie spied Sam’s jacket draped across a fire hydrant. She swiped it and slipped her arms through the sleeves.
“Give that back!” Sam growled.
“Twenty bucks and it’s all yours. The museum. See you soon-ski!” Laughing, Evie ran down the block.
“Who is that?” Mabel asked once she’d caught up and they’d ducked into a cafeteria.
“Sam Lloyd.” Evie nearly spat the name. She told them about her encounter with him at Pennsylvania Station, about how he’d kissed her and picked her pocket.
Theta sipped her coffee, leaving a perfect red Cupid’s bow mark on the white ceramic cup. “He looks like he could make off with more than just your twenty dollars, if you catch my drift. You better keep an eye on that one, Evil.”
“I don’t have enough eyes to keep on that one,” Evie grumbled.
“Go through his pockets. See if you can find your money,” Mabel suggested.
When Evie returned to the museum, Uncle Will and Jericho sat at the table talking to a barrel-chested gentleman with the sort of sad brown eyes one saw on pet-store puppies not chosen for Christmas and a nose that looked to have been on the wrong end of a few fights. A detective’s badge was pinned to his suit.
“Unc! What’d they get you for? You need bail?”
“Terrence, this is my niece, Evie O’Neill. Evie, this is Detective Malloy.”
Despite the sad eyes, Detective Malloy had a warm smile. He offered his hand. “I’m an old friend from the days when your uncle worked for the government.”
“Oh? When was that, Unc?” Evie asked.
Will ignored her. “I know I said we’d go to Chinatown for dinner, but I’m afraid I have to go downtown with Detective Malloy for a bit.”
“So you do need bail,” Evie said to Will.
“No, I do not. The police have asked for my help. There’s been a murder.”