Fleeced: A Regan Reilly Mystery

school is just getting started, Maldwin thought.
“We are returning to the city. Miss Lydia is having another party this evening.”
“Another party?” Vinnie asked. “I thought we were getting out early today.”
“You knew when you signed up for this course that it would be intensive. And flexibility is an important part of any butler’s life. You have to be ready at a moment’s notice to go with the flow, as they say,” Maldwin said as the clerk came back with the packages.
“We’re getting in some good pieces next week,” he said, peering owlishly through his glasses as he handed Maldwin his credit card and receipt. “Be sure to come back.”
“Serving plates are what I need.” Maldwin handed him his card. “If you get any good ones, let me know.”
“Everybody breaks them.”
“Tell me about it.” Maldwin turned to his assembled group. He raised the walking stick that he always carried on his excursions. “Follow me!” He led them out to the thirty-year-old Vista Cruiser station wagon that Lydia had had since she was a teenager.
“It’s the one part of my old life that I don’t want to give up,” she’d told Maldwin.
Vinnie opened the back door and climbed into the third row of seats, with Albert close behind him. The two had bonded quickly in the first week of class and wanted to sit as far away as possible from the teacher. It had been a late night last night, an early morning this morning, and they were both hungry and tired. And now it would be another late night. They were both hoping for a little nap time in the car.
No such luck.
Little Harriet, the only girl in the group, had jumped in the front seat with Feckles.
“Can we listen to the etiquette tape on the way back?” she asked hopefully.
Vinnie and Albert groaned as Blaise Bowden, the quiet loner, took a seat by himself in the second row.
“Of course we will,” Maldwin said as the station wagon bounced out of the bumpy driveway and past a big WELCOME sign. “But first we will go over all the mistakes you made last night. Vinnie,” he called, “how could you improve your performance of last night?”
“You mean after the party?”
Maldwin winced as Vinnie and Albert chuckled.
“No, I mean in your role as butler.”
Vinnie frowned. “I think I did pretty good last night.”
Harriet turned around and looked at him. “You’re not supposed to put ice cubes in red wine.”
“Don’t insult my mother!” Vinnie said. “She liked her red wine nice and cold.”
“Now, now,” Maldwin said. “We don’t ever want to insult anyone. That is not what a true gentleman or lady does. And many things are a matter of taste. But perhaps it was sangria that was your mother’s beverage? Sangria is best served chilled.”
“All I know is there was fruit in the bowl.”
Maldwin nodded. “Yes, Vinnie. That would have been sangria. When you are serving fine red wines, they are best served room temperature.”
Vinnie waved his hand at him. “I’ve got a headache.”
“Perhaps we could use some quiet time,” Maldwin agreed. And a Rolaid, he thought. “I’ll put in the etiquette tape. But first, does anyone have a helpful hint of the day?”
“A true gentleman or lady never jangles the change in their pockets,” Harriet blurted.
“Very good!” Maldwin cried. “Harriet, this all comes to you naturally.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “It annoys the hell out of people.”
Maldwin blinked, quickly shoved the cassette into the tape player, and tried to put out of his mind the sense that everything felt doomed.

15
Regan took a look down the hallway before unlocking the door to Nat’s apartment. Opposite the elevator at the end of the hallway was a steel door. High time to check that out, she thought as she walked down and opened it.
A small square area of gray metal and cement greeted her. A gray service elevator stood like a fortress a few feet in front of her. On the wall to her right was a metal door, on the wall to her left was a metal door, and just next to it was a staircase that went down. The air smelled dank. Two garbage cans for paper and plastic recyclables were positioned next to the elevator.
It didn’t take long for Regan to realize that the two doors were the service entrances to Nat’s and Lydia ’s apartments. She had seen Nat’s from the inside when Clara gave her a quick tour of his apartment.
So if anyone wanted to sneak into Nat’s apartment without being seen, this would be the better choice, Regan thought. Could someone have had a key?
Regan inserted the key she was holding in Nat’s back door. To her astonishment, it worked. The same key for the front and back doors? she thought. That’s unusual. She pushed the door open, stepped inside, and found herself in the little hallway just off the back of the kitchen. She locked the door. The apartment was still, except for the humming of the refrigerator.
Regan sighed. The kitchen was narrow and long, with cream-colored cabinets and appliances. Some of the cabinet doors were inlaid with glass, through which old-fashioned cups, saucers, and plates could be seen neatly stacked in rows. The room itself was old-fashioned and cozy, but seemed isolated from the rest of the apartment. It must hark back to the days when people who had these apartments didn’t spend much time in the kitchen. But their help did.
There was no table in the room. The only concession to modern-day eat-in-the-kitchen living was two stools at the countertop opposite the sink. A swinging door opened onto another little foyer just off the dining room, and a swinging door at the other end led to the hallway down to the bedrooms and the living room.
Did Nat spend much time in here? Regan wondered. Was he futzing around the kitchen yesterday at this time? It certainly looked neat and clean. Clara said she had cleaned the apartment on Tuesday. Today was Friday.
What