The Yiddish Gangster's Daughter (A Becks Ruchinsky Mystery Book 1) by Joan Cochran (best authors to read .TXT) đź“•
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- Author: Joan Cochran
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“You are brave.”
“No kidding. I never got that far though. Abe wanted to hear what I was going to say first.”
“Did Abe know about Fat Louie’s murder?”
“Every detail. The big shock yesterday was that there’s a lot more than Dad told us. It didn’t end with Louie’s death.”
“What didn’t?”
“The killing.”
“Are you telling me Dad . . . ?” We glance up as the waitress drops platters of pancakes and stomps away. I wait until she’s out of earshot, then lean in and speak quietly across the table. I tell Esther what Abe said about helping our father and Uncle Moe start their business. About their decision to stop depositing money in Landauer’s account. And about Tootsie’s failure to give Uncle Moe the money the mobster demanded. Her eyes grow wide when I describe Landauer’s brutal murder of Uncle Moe.
When I’m done, she stares out the window, then returns her gaze to me. Her face is pale and her expression resigned. “I should have known.”
“Known what?”
She sections her pancakes into neat rows, stabbing lines into the plate, then sets her fork and knife down. “Remember how Dad acted at Uncle Moe’s funeral. He couldn’t stop sobbing and embarrassed everyone, including Aunt Gert. Zvi pushed him out of the chapel during the service. I don’t know what he said, but Dad stayed in the lobby until the rabbi was through.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“The old man was sick with remorse. He couldn’t tell anyone. Mom would’ve left him or turned him in to the police if she knew. He had to live with it.”
“What about Landauer? Dad had to be afraid the guy would come for him next.”
“Maybe. But I’d be willing to bet Tootsie had the extra money all along. Probably gave it to Landauer the next day.”
I stare at her, horrified. “You think he would’ve done that?”
Esther stabs a forkful of pancake. “You bet!”
Daniel’s waiting area is empty when we arrive at eight thirty and his nurse, Mary, escorts us to the examining room. The space looks like every other examining room in the world. Beige Formica cabinets and a sink fill one wall and a matching examining table rests against the other. I sit in Daniel’s low-slung rolling stool and Esther takes the room’s only chair. We chat about her treatment. The surgeon is confident he removed all of the affected tissue and her oncologist feels that the chemotherapy was successful. Esther’s hair is growing back and she looks striking, if a little gaunt, with her new short hairstyle. She tells me she wants to talk to Daniel about starting long-term hormone therapy.
Five minutes after we arrive, Daniel enters the room. He leans in to give Esther a kiss and I allow him to peck my cheek. We haven’t spoken since our walk on the beach and I’m ill at ease in his presence. In any event, we have more important issues to discuss. He wraps the blood pressure cuff around Esther’s arm and takes a reading. That’s normally Mary’s job and I wonder if he feels as awkward as I do.
Esther, no doubt sensing our discomfort, breaks the silence. “Did you tell Daniel about your meeting with Abe yesterday?”
I stare at her, raising my eyebrows to express disapproval. I told Daniel about the vandalism to our house and, during a late-night conversation, Landauer’s visit, but I haven’t had a chance to discuss Uncle Moe’s murder. This is hardly the time to do so. Plus I don’t want more pressure from Daniel about moving home. When Daniel turns his back to us, I give a quick shake of my head, hoping she’ll understand. Esther ignores me and, after Daniel assures her he’ll consider her options and discuss them later, she tells him everything. When she messes up the story, I break in.
“My God, it’s beyond imagining,” Daniel says when I’m through. “I can’t believe Tootsie did that. He must have been insane. It’s a wonder you two turned out normal.”
“I’m not sure we did,” Esther says.
Daniel laughs. Then, as usual, he gets to the crux of the matter.
“What happens now? Perhaps it’s time you told the police about Moe’s and Louie’s murders? At least mention Landauer’s threat. Not reporting what you’ve learned could put you at risk.”
“I thought about that last night, along with about a hundred different options. I can’t report Landauer for killing Uncle Moe. There’s no proof.” I explain about Abe’s crooked medical examiner.
“Then you need to make sure Landauer knows what Abe told you—and that you’re aware there’s no proof he killed your uncle. That has to be what he meant with the ask your father note,” Daniel says. “Do you have Landauer’s number?”
“Damn. I was so upset yesterday I forgot to get it. I’ll call Abe, then Landauer, as soon as I get home. That should be the end of it, but who knows.” I slide my hands under my thighs so Daniel and Esther can’t see them trembling.
“These guys sound like sickos,” Daniel says. “Maybe you should move out of the house, leave town for a while.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” I appreciate Daniel’s concern but I’m fed up with letting these mobsters rule my life.
He’s silent a moment. “Thank goodness Esther’s here. At least you’re not alone.”
The two exchange glances—no doubt, agreeing Daniel should move back in.
I pretend not to notice their interchange, but consider the possibility. It no longer sounds like such a terrible idea.
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40
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Esther and I have been home less than ten minutes and are carrying her bags into Josh’s room when the doorbell rings. We’re on our way downstairs when our visitor starts stabbing the bell. It creates a high-pitched racket. Then the pounding
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