The Seattle Cipher, page 5
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Patricia explained as hard rain pelted the window she was sitting next to. “May I ask how long you have lived in Seattle?”
Rachel made a strange face. “Do you think I stole—”
“Oh, no,” Patricia promised. “When you said that your parents were married in the old theater, I began to wonder.”
“Oh, I see,” Rachel said in a relieved voice and then offered a friendly smile. “I was born in Seattle and raised right here, right above this café. I still live in the apartment my parents raised me in, and as you can see, I still own the same café my parents owned and operated for many, many good years.”
“Are you...married?” Patricia carefully asked. Rachel was a beautiful woman that any decent man would give his heart to marry. Rachel was also the type of woman—it seemed—who would make a wonderful mother. It seemed a shame to Patricia for a woman like Rachel to be childless.
“I was,” Rachel explained as a deep pain entered her heart. “My husband and I were married for nine months—before he was killed. I was twenty-one then. I’m forty-eight now. I will go to the grave loving my husband. He was the only man I ever loved and will ever love.” Rachel motioned around the café. “We took our honeymoon in Paris. Hence, the music and the atmosphere. When my parents were alive, the café resembled Italy, and I admit, the food was much better, too.”
Patricia saw a sad tear form in Rachel’s eye. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” Rachel promised, wiping her tear away. “The years, I was once told, heal broken hearts. That isn’t true. The years only allow the truth to become more painful. Excuse me.” Rachel hurried away.
“Oh dear, Levi, I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s alright,” Levi reassured her in a calm tone. “I have learned that Rachel carries a very delicate heart that can easily become upset, and for good reason.” Levi glanced out at the rainy front street. “Rachel was married to a young soldier named John. John was going through basic training. He was involved in a jeep accident. John was thrown from the jeep, killed when his body hit a tree. His neck was broken.”
“How awful.” Patricia felt her heart break.
“John was a very poor young man who, according to Rachel, was determined to make a proud life for his family,” Levi continued, lowering his voice a little. “Rachel moved back home to be with her parents, and she never left. Rachel’s father, who kept this café more for his Italian wife than for himself, was a wealthy man. He invested wisely in healthy stocks and real estate.”
“Real estate? Did Rachel’s father own the theater?”
“At one time, yes.” Levi nodded. “But the theater was once marked as condemned after the heart and life of the theater faded away. Rachel’s father sold the theater for pennies to a developer who ended up being a failure. Anyway, before Rachel could buy the theater back—”
“You talked Roger into buying it?” Patricia finished in a confused voice, wondering why Levi would betray Rachel.
“I’m afraid so,” Levi confessed.
“I understand why you wanted to begin a museum, but Rachel—”
“Let me explain,” Levi insisted. “Rachel knows I talked Roger into buying the theater. She was upset with me for some time, but as you can see, we are now friends again.” Levi placed his hands together. “Patricia, there are matters concerning the theater that you are not aware of.”
“I’m all ears.”
Levi steadied his thoughts and then continued. “In 1974, a murder took place inside the theater. A beautiful young girl was murdered by her jealous boyfriend. Very tragic.” Levi sighed. “After the murder, the life of the theater, which was already suffering from an unhealthy heart, was fading. People began drifting away from the shows, from actors and directors to singers and audience members. Interest in performing shows died off. The theater sat empty during the 1980s and in 2016, before Rachel’s father passed at the age of ninety, he sold the theater.”
Patricia put on her thinking cap. “ Rachel is fifty-one…1974. She would have been three years old when the murder took place.”
Levi nodded. “The girl who was murdered was her sister. A sweet, innocent, sixteen-year-old girl who was strangled to death by a deviant. Rachel’s father never forgave himself. Rachel once told me that she would catch her father standing alone in the theater crying.”
“So you had Roger Cameron buy the theater to—”
“Bring life back, and to keep Rachel from suffering the same tears as her father,” Levi explained. “Rachel and John were married in the theater, Patricia, and you saw what happened to John. I’m a practical man, but I do believe that the theater, in connection to Rachel and her family, is...cursed. Now I’m beginning to wonder if that same curse is leaving its boundaries and spreading to me?”
“Levi, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because, Patricia, I’m a practical man who thrives on logical solutions. I’m not superstitious when it comes to walking under a ladder,” Levi explained. “The theater seemed like a practical choice—the history, the richness—I wasn’t even aware that Rachel’s family owned the theater until I came in here to eat one evening and found Rachel crying. That’s when I learned the truth and realized that, yes, by buying the theater, I had kept Rachel from visiting an old tomb, while in return, turning an old tomb into a beating heart again.”
“Seems like you were caught in a complicated web.”
“I have known Rachel for many years.” Levi nodded. “I didn’t mean to hurt or betray her.”
“And you still refuse to talk Roger Cameron into selling me the theater because you are afraid something tragic will happen to Rachel, too.” Patricia lifted her head and saw Rachel approaching, carrying two green cups of coffee.
“I’m afraid so, yes,” Levi confessed.
Rachel set the two cups of coffee she was carrying down onto a clean table. “Well, maybe there is something to this curse business you keep claiming exists,” she said in a voice that was now emotionally stable. “My daddy always insisted the theater was cursed but I never believed him. But when my mother died of an unexpected heart attack while walking past the theater, I began to wonder. Of course my mother was eighty-nine, daddy died a year later of cancer, but he sold the theater before he died.”
“Why did your daddy retain ownership of the theater so long?” Patricia asked.
“Duty,” Rachel explained in a simple voice and then nodded at Levi. “Sometimes I wonder if daddy isn’t whispering in your ear, Levi.”
Levi smiled a little. “Maybe.”
Patricia felt a very emotional and complicated family scar whispering through the warm air. It’s not right for me to continue peeking into Rachel’s past. I’ve heard enough to conclude that the theater, for whatever reason, just might be a cursed place. She had to admit the theater felt a little creepy. And now that the photos were stolen, she couldn’t help but wonder if the missing photos were connected to the curse somehow. “Rachel, do the numbers 3, 9, and 7 mean anything to you?” she asked, picking up a cup of coffee with a careful hand.
Rachel’s lovely face formed a thought. “3, 9, and 7…why yes.” She nodded. “397 Pine Rain Street comes to mind.”
“397 Pine Rain Street?” Levi asked. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that street.”
“You wouldn’t be,” Rachel informed Levi. “397 Pine Rain Street is—was—home to a very old private school called Northern Lights Academy. The school is located north of Seattle in a town called Northern Lights. Northern Lights sits very close to the Canadian border.”
“How do you know this?” Levi asked in a direct tone.
“My daddy owned the property the school sits on. I still own the property. The school is abandoned, but the property is still very valuable,” Rachel answered.
Patricia felt her curiosity kick into high gear. “Rachel, was there any other school on your property before Northern Lights Academy?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Rachel confessed. “I pay the property taxes on the land and that’s about it. I haven’t driven up that way in years. I get a few offers every so often, but I don’t have the heart to sell the land. For whatever reason my parents were both very fond of the land and the school. They never told me why, and if you knew my parents, as loving as they were, you would understand that a wise person learned not to ask them too many questions.”
Patricia glanced at Levi. Levi didn’t bring me to this little café because the menu fit his tight wallet. No way. Levi brought me here because of Rachel. Oh, he’s a clever man—sneaky, too. Well, maybe just cautious. After all, Levi didn’t know her very well, and he had to be cautious. Right after she showed up, Paul Vinovich’s photos were stolen. But it seemed to her that Levi was throwing her a few clues and hints that maybe he was starting to trust her as part of the team. “Rachel, are there any other connections that you can make?”
“Not that I can think of.” Rachel heard a timer go off in the back kitchen. “Soup is ready. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Patricia waited for Rachel to leave before speaking. “Levi—”
“No coincidences,” Levi whispered in a pleased voice.
Patricia stared into Levi’s clever eyes. “You brought me to this café to learn a few secrets and ask a few questions, didn’t you?”
“I brought you to this café hoping that your detective mind might learn a few secrets and ask a few questions to make connections.” Levi nodded toward the kitchen. “I could have asked Rachel the same questions you did, Patricia, but I needed to see how Rachel reacted to the questions being asked from a distance to understand if she was connected to the stolen photos or not. I used your detective skills, so to speak. Please don’t be offended.”
“Are you confident in my detective skills now?” Patricia asked, taking no offense to Levi’s scheme.
“Yes,” Levi confessed and then leaned forward a little. “Now, tell me, Patricia, what are your thoughts?”
“Our next step needs to be the local library,” Patricia whispered. “We have some research to do.”
A pleased smile touched Levi’s mouth. “You’re right, Watson,” he told Patricia and then looked out at the falling rain. “We’re diving deeper into this mystery by the second. I can’t help but feel—and hope—that when we solve this mystery, we’ll discover a true treasure.”
Patricia held the same hope inside of her heart. Me, too, Levi, me too, she thought as two men wearing black raincoats entered the café. Patricia turned in her seat, spotted the two men, and tensed up. Uh, oh. This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.
Chapter Seven
Paulie Ricci glanced at the booth Patricia and Levi were sitting in and then nudged his friend, Wilson Caperson. “There they are—he’s with the woman.” Paulie spoke in a thick Brooklyn accent.
Patricia watched Paulie, who stood taller than his friend, staring at her through hard eyes that were filled with menacing, cruel violence. Paulie resembled an army drill sergeant on steroids. Wilson looked like a street dealer who could barely stand up straight. However, Patricia noticed Wilson had his right hand stuffed under the black rain coat he was wearing. He’s hiding a gun. “Levi—”
“I see them,” Levi told Patricia, remaining calm even though Patricia saw concern enter Levi’s eyes.
Paulie thrust his right hand into his black raincoat and pulled out a switchblade. “Guard the door,” he ordered Wilson and then approached Patricia and Levi. “Got a message for you two,” he said in a tone that was prison tough. Patricia glanced up and watched Paulie snap open the switchblade. “Back down or die. It’s that simple,” Paulie warned as his right hand began carving stiff letters into the air. “D—E—A—D. That’s what you will be if you don’t back down. This is your only warning.”
“Mr. Green works fast, doesn’t he?” Patricia asked Paulie, deciding to confront the thug threatening her life instead of backing down.
Paulie frowned. “Lady, if you know what’s best for you—”
“You’re not going to kill me here,” Patricia told Paulie and then pointed at a security camera that was perched over the front door. “Your face is on camera. You can stand here and threaten me. I doubt anyone will throw up a roadblock for you over that, but murder is different.”
Paulie walked his hard eyes over to Levi. Levi was sitting calmly in thought. “Tell your girlfriend to shut her trap, Levi.”
“Do I know you?” Levi asked Paulie instead of obeying the order thrown at him. “I don’t believe I know your name. How do you know my name?”
Paulie felt his temper rise. “Okay, smart guy, play stupid and see where you end up,” he threatened and then flashed his knife at Patricia. “Back down, smart mouth, or die.”
“Tell Mr. Green that Patricia McKay doesn’t back down,” Patricia said and then took a sip of her coffee in a very annoying way. “You can go now. You smell.”
Paulie took a quick sniff at his armpit and then sneered down at Patricia. “It’s your funeral.”
“Tell Mr. Green that we will be sending flowers to his prison cell,” Patricia told Paulie and then brushed him away with her hands. “You smell. Go away.”
Levi studied Paulie’s vicious face. Paulie might go away, but he is going to swing around and attack us through the shadows. “Tell Mr. Green that I’m appalled at his betrayal, whoever you are.”
Paulie aimed his switchblade at Levi’s face. “It’s your funeral, smart man,” he warned and then backed up to Wilson. “Let’s ride,” he hissed and then waved his switchblade into the air again. “Be seeing you real soon.”
Patricia watched Paulie and Wilson step out into the rain and then vanish like the fleas they were. “That thug didn’t deny that Mr. Green sent him,” Patricia pointed out.
“Yes, I know.” Levi sighed. “A grinning snake is the worst kind, I’m afraid. I would rather face a snake that shows its fangs. With that said, at least we now know that there’s a man who has knowledge of the art world connected to this mystery. As much as it pains me to admit this, Mr. Green is skilled in that arena.”
Patricia started to say something but stopped when Rachel came rushing out of the back kitchen holding an old gun. “Where did they go? I ran upstairs to get my gun, where did they go?” she asked in a tone that showed she was ready to take part in a serious gunfight.
“Gone,” Levi informed Rachel and then stood up. “Don’t report this to the police, Rachel. Patricia and I need to track down the stolen art and find out what’s happening.”
“Levi, a man was threatening you with a knife!”
“I know,” Levi replied, remaining calm. “Put the coffee on my tab, okay?”
Rachel hesitated. “Levi, I realize that you are a curious man who has always enjoyed a good mystery, but this is real life. Your life was threatened.”
“Rachel,” Levi said and put out a warm hand to touch the gun Rachel was holding. “My heart is telling me that Mr. Vinovich’s stolen artwork—his photos—are connected to a great treasure. I wasn’t even aware of the hidden numbers until Patricia pointed them out to me. After Greg was attacked and the photos were stolen, I realized that the photos were a key—a very strange key that will unlock a very strange door.”
Patricia bit down on her lower lip for a second and then spoke. “And you brought me to this café to meet Rachel for a reason, right?”
“Of course,” Levi said and nodded. “Rachel is connected to the theater. As I told you”—Levi tossed a sorrowful eye at Rachel—“I needed to see if she was connected to the stolen photos.”
“Levi!” Rachel exclaimed in dismay.
“You were upset at me for a long time when you found out I was the one who talked Roger Cameron into buying the theater, Rachel. You did promise to ruin us.”
“I was furious at the time, Levi, but you knew that I was full of hot air.”
Levi held up a calm hand. “Rachel, please don’t hate me. A skilled detective has to investigate every corner.”
Rachel sighed. “Am I in the clear, Levi?”
“Yes,” Levi answered, offering a warm smile. “Honestly, Rachel, I didn’t think you were involved with the stolen photos to begin with. Patricia and I now know who the culprit is.”
“Maybe so,” Patricia pointed out, “but the numbers 3, 9, and 7 are connected to Pine Rain Street. Of course, that could be a coincidence, but Rachel, you did say your parents were fond of the school and the land, I’m just wondering…”
“What about?” Rachel asked, feeling the weight of the gun she was holding becoming a burden.
“If Mr. Vinovich is somehow connected to Northern Lights Academy?”
Rachel’s lovely face twisted into a confusing knot. “I don’t believe my parents ever met Mr. Vinovich.”
“Levi, you told me that Mr. Paul Vinovich lived out his final years in Seattle, and that he died in 1954, right?” Patricia asked. Levi nodded. “That would have put Rachel’s parents somewhere in their late twenties or early thirties when Mr. Vinovich died.”
“Give or take a year, you’re right on track,” Rachel confirmed. “So, it wouldn’t have been impossible for my parents to have met Paul Vinovich. I didn’t know the man had lived out his last years right here in Seattle. Do you know where Paul Vinovich lived, Levi?”
Levi shook his head. “Mr. Vinovich’s biography isn’t detailed with facts concerning his later years. In fact, it seems that once Mr. Vinovich retired here in Seattle, his life became rather hidden.”
“But you’re wanting to know where the man lived, right?” Patricia grinned. Levi nodded. “Me, too.”
“Me, too,” Rachel spoke in a curious voice. “I want to know if my parents are somehow connected to Mr. Vinovich.” Rachel sighed. “My father had me late in his life. He wasn’t a strapping young man when I was born, and my mother wasn’t a beautiful young doe. I was, more or less, a surprise, Levi, as you were when you entered this life. I became the daughter of two parents who were already settled in life and taught me to never ask questions. Now I’m starting to wonder if my parents taught me to not ask questions to protect me?”
