dropped open as if he couldn’t believe what had just
happened. For about a month this picture, and others of Veronica and her
husband, had graced the covers of the New
York Post and People magazine . Then it had all blown over and gone
away.
John studied her more
curiously now.
“I will not have you
put yourself in danger, Veronica,” insisted her father. Taking a piece of paper
from his breast pocket, he handed it to John. “We received this last night.”
John unfolded the
paper and read the note. It was typewritten on a plain, white piece of paper.
“Stay away from the
Diamond Ball, Miss Rossmore, or you could find yourself an unwilling character
in the latest Ghost story, to which there will not be a happy ending.”
“Have you notified
anyone yet? The police or the FBI?” asked John.
“We don’t want any
publicity, and really, I’m not afraid of ghosts,” insisted Veronica.
“Miss Rossmore, you
really ought to take this seriously. Why don’t you let me take this down to the
lab? They could test it for fingerprints, DNA, all kinds of things.”
“I really think this
whole thing is silly,” she said with a cold smile. “I’m a big girl and I don’t
want a high profile police investigation or a bodyguard.”
“Will you at least
promise to be more careful with your jewels?” pleaded Buzzy. Clearly his little
girl had him wrapped around her finger.
“What’s careful?” she
asked.
“She won’t be,”
exclaimed the old man, now turning to John. “She flaunts her diamonds all over
the place, even wears them on the subway or walking through Central Park
alone—at night, for God’s sake!”
So she did take the
subway. What else was she lying about? John raised his brows at Veronica, but
she wasn’t looking at him. She had fire in her eyes and all her attention went
to her father.
“I can take care of
myself and you know it.”
Her father shook his
head and collapsed back into his chair looking as if his daughter would be the
death of him. “You understand, Veronica, that I have a very important lecture
to give on Saturday night. I cannot accompany you to this affair.”
“I’m not asking you
to!” she said, exasperated.
“Veronica, I will not
be able to sleep at night worrying about you and those jewels. Not with this
Ghost on the loose and every other thief worth their salt probably lining up to
take turns stealing from the people attending this ball!”
Veronica shook her
head and a curtain of dark hair fell over one eye. Annoyed, she pushed it back
behind her ear.
“All right,” said
Buzzy with a sigh, “I’ll cancel my lecture.”
John almost smiled.
So he and his mother weren’t the only people who went through this.
“You will not cancel your lecture,” declared
Veronica.
Buzzy was about to
reply, when he turned to look at John and, taking a deep breath, remembered
himself. “John, I’m so sorry. Perhaps I can call you tomorrow when my daughter
and I have straightened this thing out.”
“That sounds like a
good idea.” John rose and handed back the note. He paused a moment, not wanting
to interfere but feeling it his duty to say something. “You know, you really
should call the cops about this note. The person who wrote it might be
dangerous.”
Buzzy nodded his
head. “Thank you, John. Veronica and I will discuss the matter and decide what
we think is best.”
John shrugged; it
really wasn’t any of his business.
Buzzy rose. “I’ll
walk you out.”
“Don’t worry about
it.”
“Well, here,” the old
man pulled a beat-up leather checkbook out of his jacket pocket, “let me at
least compensate you for your wasted time.”
John shook his head.
“It’s okay.”
“It would make me
feel better.” Buzzy’s pen was poised over a blank check.
John felt Veronica’s
cool eyes on him, watching to see if he’d take the money.
“Seriously, Mr.
Rossmore, I had a great walk through the park on my way over here. It was a
pleasure meeting you and
happened. For about a month this picture, and others of Veronica and her
husband, had graced the covers of the New
York Post and People magazine . Then it had all blown over and gone
away.
John studied her more
curiously now.
“I will not have you
put yourself in danger, Veronica,” insisted her father. Taking a piece of paper
from his breast pocket, he handed it to John. “We received this last night.”
John unfolded the
paper and read the note. It was typewritten on a plain, white piece of paper.
“Stay away from the
Diamond Ball, Miss Rossmore, or you could find yourself an unwilling character
in the latest Ghost story, to which there will not be a happy ending.”
“Have you notified
anyone yet? The police or the FBI?” asked John.
“We don’t want any
publicity, and really, I’m not afraid of ghosts,” insisted Veronica.
“Miss Rossmore, you
really ought to take this seriously. Why don’t you let me take this down to the
lab? They could test it for fingerprints, DNA, all kinds of things.”
“I really think this
whole thing is silly,” she said with a cold smile. “I’m a big girl and I don’t
want a high profile police investigation or a bodyguard.”
“Will you at least
promise to be more careful with your jewels?” pleaded Buzzy. Clearly his little
girl had him wrapped around her finger.
“What’s careful?” she
asked.
“She won’t be,”
exclaimed the old man, now turning to John. “She flaunts her diamonds all over
the place, even wears them on the subway or walking through Central Park
alone—at night, for God’s sake!”
So she did take the
subway. What else was she lying about? John raised his brows at Veronica, but
she wasn’t looking at him. She had fire in her eyes and all her attention went
to her father.
“I can take care of
myself and you know it.”
Her father shook his
head and collapsed back into his chair looking as if his daughter would be the
death of him. “You understand, Veronica, that I have a very important lecture
to give on Saturday night. I cannot accompany you to this affair.”
“I’m not asking you
to!” she said, exasperated.
“Veronica, I will not
be able to sleep at night worrying about you and those jewels. Not with this
Ghost on the loose and every other thief worth their salt probably lining up to
take turns stealing from the people attending this ball!”
Veronica shook her
head and a curtain of dark hair fell over one eye. Annoyed, she pushed it back
behind her ear.
“All right,” said
Buzzy with a sigh, “I’ll cancel my lecture.”
John almost smiled.
So he and his mother weren’t the only people who went through this.
“You will not cancel your lecture,” declared
Veronica.
Buzzy was about to
reply, when he turned to look at John and, taking a deep breath, remembered
himself. “John, I’m so sorry. Perhaps I can call you tomorrow when my daughter
and I have straightened this thing out.”
“That sounds like a
good idea.” John rose and handed back the note. He paused a moment, not wanting
to interfere but feeling it his duty to say something. “You know, you really
should call the cops about this note. The person who wrote it might be
dangerous.”
Buzzy nodded his
head. “Thank you, John. Veronica and I will discuss the matter and decide what
we think is best.”
John shrugged; it
really wasn’t any of his business.
Buzzy rose. “I’ll
walk you out.”
“Don’t worry about
it.”
“Well, here,” the old
man pulled a beat-up leather checkbook out of his jacket pocket, “let me at
least compensate you for your wasted time.”
John shook his head.
“It’s okay.”
“It would make me
feel better.” Buzzy’s pen was poised over a blank check.
John felt Veronica’s
cool eyes on him, watching to see if he’d take the money.
“Seriously, Mr.
Rossmore, I had a great walk through the park on my way over here. It was a
pleasure meeting you and
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