Fleeced: A Regan Reilly Mystery

said. “ L.A. on Monday sounds great.”
“What did you get yourself involved in?” Jack asked. “There’s not another man, I hope.”
Regan laughed. “Another guy called but it’s not anything to worry about.” She relayed to him the conversation with Thomas.
“So you’re on the job this weekend too. Let me pick you up and take you down to Gramercy Park,” Jack said quickly. “I can’t wait until Sunday to see you.”
“I was about to say the same thing.”
Jack laughed. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”
Regan hung up the phone. There is a God, she thought.

6
Thomas Pilsner sat at his desk in his office on the first floor of the Settlers’ Club, wringing his hands. Normally the sight of his Oriental rug, faded leather club chairs, and handsome rolltop desk soothed him. But not today. His mind was racing, and his heart was beating at a rate that would only have been acceptable if he had just finished a run around Gramercy Park.
How he loved it here. Gramercy Park, with its graceful trees, shady lawns, cast-iron gates, and flagstone sidewalks, was like a mirage just steps from Midtown Manhattan. The park was the cloistered centerpiece of the neighborhood. It was a landmark that had been called the cherished jewel in the crown that is New York City. Original town houses in Greek Revival, Italianate, Gothic Revival, and Victorian Gothic surrounded the park, and one of the city’s earliest apartment houses had been built on its southeast corner.
Everyone who lived on the square received a key to the gate of the private park-a two acre haven of pastoral charm, accessible only to bordering property owners.
People felt as if they were stepping into another century when they rounded the corner and the park came into view. Noise receded, and time moved much more slowly. The chaos and confusion of the city seemed to disappear as the skyscrapers and traffic jams were left behind.
This place feels like anything but a haven now, Thomas thought miserably. Why didn’t I live here a hundred years ago, when the writers and painters and architects all made their homes in these beautiful buildings and life was so much more civilized? When the club didn’t have all these financial difficulties?
Thomas blew his nose and willed himself to be calm. Regan’s coming, he thought. She’ll help me with all this.
The phone on his desk rang.
“Regan Reilly is here,” the security guard told him.
“Send her in.”
Jack’s arm was around Regan’s shoulder as he guided her up the staircase to the main floor and down the hall to Thomas’s office.
“This doesn’t sound like it qualifies for the Major Case Squad, but I’m anxious to hear what’s going on,” he said to Regan.
Thomas greeted them at the door. “Regan,” he cried, “not a moment too soon.”
Regan introduced Thomas to Jack. They sat down in the chairs across the desk from Thomas.
“Jack has to leave soon,” Regan said, “but he’s with the Major Case Squad in Manhattan and is a good friend of mine. He’s here to help us.”
Thomas gave Jack the once-over. “I need all the help I can get.”
“I’ve already filled Jack in on everything you told me,” Regan said. “What else can you tell us about what’s been going on around here?”
“I was hired last September, after I graduated from business school, to try and bring some new life to this club. The place might not look it on the surface, but it’s falling apart! It needs so much work, and it needs new members. With all the health clubs springing up, people aren’t joining the old clubs anymore.”
Regan nodded her head as if urging him to continue.
“I’ve done everything I can to drag people in here. A movie company is even using the front parlor this afternoon to shoot scenes for their latest film. We’re having a gala anniversary party here tomorrow night. The club is one hundred years old. That’s why Nat and Ben decided to make the donation now. It would have brought such excitement and publicity. It was our only chance. I’d even lined up a couple of reporters to come over and cover the party. But now there’s no donation, and I have to try and hide the fact that there was probably a murder and a robbery here! Who would want to join a club where these terrible things have happened?” Thomas broke the pencil he was holding in his hands and dropped the pieces on the desk. His upper lip was starting to sweat.
“How many apartments are on this guy’s floor?” Regan asked.
“Just two. They’re the penthouses.”
“Was there anyone home across the hall last night?” Jack asked.
Thomas rolled his eyes. “Was there ever! The woman who lives there has singles parties. She started a matchmaking service. She was having a little do last night.”
“Well, someone from the party could have gotten access to Pemrod’s apartment,” Regan suggested.
“She also has a butler who runs a butler school up there. He only has a few students, but they were working at the party. When the police helped me downstairs after I fainted, everyone was standing around. It was terrible!”
“Could you have left the door open when you ran downstairs after discovering Nat’s body?” Regan asked. “There would have been time for someone to steal the diamonds and get out before the police arrived.”
“I suppose,” Thomas said slowly. “I was in such a state. It’s not every day that you find someone floating in the tub. I should just have called the police from there…”
Regan sighed. “Were there people in the hallway before word got out about Nat’s death?”
“People were going out to the terrace at the end of the hall to smoke. Lydia doesn’t let people smoke in her apartment.”
“And people had heard about the existence of the diamonds?” Jack asked.
“Apparently the place was buzzing with the news.”
“Maybe Nat or Ben told someone of their plans,” Regan said. “That’s the kind of secret that’s hard to keep. What about Nat’s