“Damn it!” Dexter jumped into the driver’s seat of his Lexus and slammed the door with a resounding thunk. He huffed a loud sigh and put his head down on the steering wheel for a moment.
His normally cool demeanor gave way to near-meltdown. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and turned to his daughter. “Listen, Kiddo, do you have any idea who you have locked in that trunk?”
Jade glared back at him. “I don’t know who she is. All I know is that she posed a threat to us and I took care of it. So who is she anyway?”
“The woman you knocked out is Godiva’s assistant, Angel. The license plate says Godiva2, it’s her company car. We need to be long gone before she wakes up.”
The setting sun cast long shadows across the cracked pavement of the short, narrow street. They left Jade’s rental car in the driveway with the keys on the driver’s seat. Snazzy-Ass Auto Rentals would find it soon enough. Dexter started his Lexus, turned onto Beverly Glen and headed down the hill toward Sunset Boulevard. When they caught a red light at the intersection, he drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.
“Why did Angel, of all people, have to spot you coming out of my shop? I never factored something like this into the plan.”
Jade let him blow off steam, and finally said, “I’m sorry, Dad. But, what was I to do? I mean the woman was following me. How do you suppose she knew who I was?”
Back in charge of himself, Dexter recalled the connection. “It was at the dinner where Godiva’s uncle showed off the turban you made for Kazaam. I recognized the brooch immediately. It was all I could do keep from snatching the blasted hat right off the old fool’s head. Earlier in the evening Flossie passed around photos from the cruise. I paid very little attention until I realized that one of those photos pictured you with Ali Kazaam.”
“I remember that nosy old bat. She was snapping pictures of all the magicians. She kept following me around, asking questions. I couldn’t get rid of her.”
“Well, Angel was at the dinner and saw that photo. She’s a sharp cookie, doesn’t miss a thing. It figures that when she saw you leaving my shop she put two and two together.”
Jade slapped her forehead. “Damn!”
Dexter quickly added, “Well, I won’t let this throw us off track. I doubt she made the connection between us. Let’s face it. You’re a wanted jewel thief and I’m Godiva’s respected boyfriend. Since jewelry is my business, maybe Angel thought you were checking out high-end jewelry stores to rob. I wouldn’t be surprised if she intended to call and warn me that she saw you casing the joint.”
They wound along the curves on Sunset Boulevard. When the light at the corner of Sunset and Carolwood turned red, Dexter pointed to his right. “Years ago there was a mansion called the Pink Palace on that corner. It was built in the twenties for Rudee Valee, a crooner and heart throb of that era, but he never moved into it. In the sixties a sexy actress named Jayne Mansfield bought it and her husband painted the mansion pink. Everything was pink, furniture, pool—everything.”
“Yuck! Living there must have made you feel like you were drowning in Pepto Bismol. What happened to the pink house?”
“That’s the interesting part.” Dexter said. “It was rumored to be haunted and the current owner tore it down and built that new one.”
“Haunted?”
“Yeah, they say a Satanist laid a death curse on Jayne Mansfield. After she died, all the succeeding owners or renters of that house either died, met with some disaster or claimed they heard her warning them. Pretty spooky, huh?”
The light changed and they continued driving along Sunset. Jade touched the disguised brooch pinned to her sweater. “Ohhh, Dad, that story gives me chills! Do you think this beautiful piece of jewelry has that kind of a curse on it? Maybe it’s a good thing we have the buyer waiting for us. I’ll be happy to get rid of it.”
“Well, you know me, Honey. I’m not superstitious, but when you pinned that brooch on Kazaam’s turban it sure brought him bad luck. And, take your friend Kah Ching. His bad luck is that he paid a fortune for it and will never see it again. Although, it’s probably worse luck for his insurance agency. Looks like they’ll have to pay out the claim.”
“Let’s get it to the buyer as soon as we get to Hong Kong. Dexter pulled around to the back of his shop and said, “Stay in the car. I won’t be long.” Taking a jeweler’s sample case from the SUV, he entered the store through the rear door.
With the burglar alarm disarmed, Dexter knocked over a few chairs and threw papers all around the office so it would look like the store had been robbed. He opened the safe and grabbed the jewelry that featured the largest diamonds and precious gems. Most of the pieces were so big and so brilliant an untrained eye wouldn’t even believe they were real. He purposely left the safe door open with many lesser pieces still inside, as though the robber had been surprised and taken off. The last thing he did was to take an envelope out of his jacket and place it on his desk.
Moments later he strolled out carrying the sample bag, now stacked with black velvet cases containing the precious merchandise. A few days before, he had ordered business cards in the name of Morris Moskowitz proclaiming him as the designer and owner of Phony Baloney Jewelry Company. The bogus address and phone number belonged to a Mexican tortilla factory on Alvarado Street. His rehearsed purpose for the trip to Hong Kong was to bring samples of his company’s fake jewels to Chinese manufacturers in hopes of finding a cheaper source.
Dexter put the case in the back and drove down the street to Rodeo Drive Public Parking where he removed the sample case and their two rolling carry-on suitcases. His leased Lexus would be of no further use, so they left it in the lot and walked the short distance to the Beverly Wilshire Hotel where they caught a taxi to the airport. Traffic was heavy at that time of day, but Dexter had allowed for it. They would still arrive in time to go through security and board their flight for San Francisco.
When they arrived at LAX, Dexter took on the persona of Morris Moscowitz. Jade became his frumpy daughter, Minnie, who plodded along in her ugly brown oxfords lugging her roll-on suitcase behind her.
“I’m glad you suggested taking the extra flight to San Francisco, Minnie. It’ll be much harder to trace our movements if we don’t fly to Hong Kong directly from L.A.”
She winked at her father. “Yeah, Morrie, I know a thing or two about covering your tracks.”
After arriving in San Francisco they took the shuttle from Terminal 2 to the International Terminal where they would board their flight to Hong Kong.
When he put the sample case through the scanner, the agent raised an eyebrow. Dexter had his answer ready. Now fully into his Morris Moskowitz mode, he glibly told the security agents the same story he used in Los Angeles.
“See, I make this gaudy costume jewelry. The dames in Hollywood love it. I’m going to Hong Kong to meet with a couple of suppliers. They can make this junk much cheaper over there.”
When he was asked to open the case, he did so without protest.
The agent let out a low whistle and said, “That’s quite a lot of jewelry you’ve got there, Sir.”
Before the agent could say anything more, the jolly Mr. Moskowitz chuckled in a friendly way and said, “Be great if they were real, wouldn’t it? Amazing what they can do with cubic zirconium and colored glass, isn’t it? Of course, if they were real, I wouldn’t have to be schlepping this damn case to Hong Kong to see if I can find a cheaper manufacturer. Has to look like top quality, though. My guy here is really pricey, but he does a great job, don’t ya think?” He handed one of his bogus cards to the agent.
With a shake of his head, the agent passed him through.