The Case of the Scarlet Brooch
Chapter 8Jeff arrived at Coronado Flats around ten-thirty, having stopped at a gas station in Carlsbad to get gas and call Nola Madison. She told him to come on down; she was home and Spencer was off playing tennis but he'd be back by the time Jeff got there. Nola proved to be prophetic.
Samuel the butler answered the door in shorts and flip flops. "Yes, sir?" He might have dressed like Kookie but what came out of his mouth was the King's English.
"I'm, uh, Jeff Spencer. Uh, Miss Madison is expecting . . . do you always dress like that?"
"Unless Miss Iris is coming down, sir. Please follow me," and Jeff was led into the living room. Coronado Flats was a big, beautiful house, but the living room was furnished in a rather casual manner. Now Samuel's style of dress made more sense. "Miss Nola and Mr. Spencer will be right down. Please help yourself," and Samuel indicated the coffee pot on the center table.
Jeff did just that and was drinking his first cup when Nola Madison and Spencer Quince made an appearance. Nola was dressed in shorts and a shirt, and Spencer was in tennis clothes, but it was obvious he'd taken a shower and put them on clean. Spencer turned to his sister. "Alright Sis, you win."
Nola stuck her hand out. "Pay me."
Spencer took a bill of some denomination out of his pocket and gave it to her. Spencer explained to Jeff, "I bet her the Private Investigator was older, and she bet me you weren't."
Nola advanced and offered her hand to shake. "How do you do, Mr. Spencer? I'm Nola and this is my uncultured brother Spencer."
Quince also shook Jeff's hand. "Ha, Spencer and Spencer. I see you found the coffee. Welcome to our humble abode."
Jeff issued a small laugh. "Humble abode, hmm? What do you consider large, Mr. Quince?"
The three of them sat down and Spencer poured coffee for his sister, then one for himself. Nola used cream and Spencer drank his black. "What can we do for you, Mr. Spencer?" Nola asked.
"Please, let's make this less confusing. Call me Jeff." He paused and refilled his cup. "I'm trying to track down your grandmother's brooch."
"Ooh, the scarlet one?" Nola wanted to confirm.
"Yes, have you seen it?"
"Not since Grandmother was here for Spencer's last tournament. She wore it that day but she didn't spend the night. That was last July."
"And she wasn't here during the holidays?" That seemed curious to Jeff.
"No, we joined the rest of the family at Aunt Prudence's house for Christmas. We usually go to The Breakers for Christmas. If truth be told, that's Grandmother's favorite house. And Mother goes all out to decorate. It's really quite beautiful. We watch the boat parade from the front of the house and sing Christmas carols," Nola explained.
"But you all didn't go there this year?" The P.I. questioned.
"No," Spencer answered. There was a note of irritation in his voice.
"Why not?"
"You better answer that, Nola. I'm still mad about it."
Nola reached over and patted her brother's arm. "Aunt Prudence has been complaining for years that no one ever comes to her house. So Grandmother decided we should all go there this year, to shut her up. Even though she knew . . . " Nola stopped, her voice quivering with tears.
Jeff's voice softened considerably. "Even though she knew your mother is sick?"
Spencer nodded. "Mother has cancer. The doctors are doing everything they can to fight it, but it doesn't seem to be working. No one knows how long she has."
"I'm sorry."
The three sat in silence for a moment, until Nola spoke. "That's not a well-known fact, Jeff, and Mother prefers to keep it that way. Grandmother knew, of course. That's why it was so upsetting when she decreed that we were all to traipse up to Prudence's house."
"Prudence lives in Beverly Hills?" The detective asked quietly.
"Yes. Prudence lives in Beverly Hills." Spencer poured another cup of coffee while he answered Jeff's question, and his hands were visibly shaking. "In a house that doesn't even begin to stack up against mother's in Newport."
"I hate to bother you any further, but does your grandmother have a bedroom in this house? With a jewelry box in it?"
Nola nodded, a small smile creeping across her face. "You know about Grandmother's bedrooms and jewelry boxes? Yes, of course you do. The answers are yes and yes. I assume you'd like to see both?"
"If I might."
"Follow me, Jeff." Nola rose and headed up the staircase that covered the far corner of the room. She led him down a long hall and into a bedroom that looked like most of the other bedrooms Iris had. And the jewelry box was exactly the same.
"You keep the key?"
"Right here," and she pulled a key from around her neck and unlocked the box. Same shelf, same secret compartment, no brooch. "Satisfied?"
"Yes, ma'am."
After everything was closed and locked up they went back downstairs. "Well, I don't have any more questions. Is there anything I can answer for you?"
"Are you going to see Mother?" Spencer asked.
"Yes, my partner and I are going together."
"Would you please . . . ?"
"We'll be as kind and gentle as we can be," Jeff answered honestly.
"Thank you, Mr. Spencer. It was a pleasure to meet you." Quince stuck out his hand and the men shook sociably.
"Same here, Mr. Quince. Miss Madison."
Jeff got in his car and pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. He noticed as he lit the cigarette that his hands were trembling slightly. He sat in the car and smoked until he was as steady as always, then he threw the rest of the cigarette away and started the engine. He had a lot to think about on the way back to the office.