Stocks & Blondes
19
Whore corners
WHEN SOMEONE ASKS ME “How much?” I just naturally respond “How much what?” I never thought I’d come to regret that.
King of Prussia
After thawing out the family jewels, I called Grover. He was surprised to hear from me. In fact, I don’t think he remembered at first who I was. Oh, dear.
“Grover, I need to know about a piece of jewelry,” I said after we’d finally established who I was and he’d caught up. “It’s a necklace of Georgia’s that has a large square-cut amethyst pendant. Do you remember it?”
“Remember it! Why do you bring that up? The only thing we ever fought about and it’s gone forever now. I don’t want to have to talk about that,” he practically yelled into the phone.
“Grover, I’ve found it,” I said calmly. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. A lot of people seem to be interested in it.”
“No, you can’t have found it now. She told me she lost it. It was the winter cotillion. I gave it to her to wear and she lost it. It almost ruined us. Her mother was dead and the one thing I had to give her, she lost the first time she wore it,” Grover sobbed. “We didn’t speak to each other for months. Then I realized we’d lose each other if we didn’t patch it up. We agreed never to mention it again. Oh, if only she’d known that she had it all along, we could have put it all behind us.” He was desperately weeping by that time and I was afraid the old man would have a heart attack right there on the phone and I’d have another estate to settle.
“Is there a story behind it?” I asked.
“Oh yes, a story,” he said. It seemed that was the right thing to ask because he settled right in and started relating the most improbable tale I’d ever heard.
“Back before the first World War in about ’07, golly, more than a hundred years ago, Georgia’s great grandfather on her mother’s side was an advisor to the Kaiser of Germany who was also King of Prussia. He’d worked in the US Trade Department and was responsible for setting up trade agreements with several different countries. He ended up getting along so well with Kaiser Wilhelm that the Kaiser hired him for his own personal advisor on matters of international investment. And with Granddaddy’s advice, he did quite well for himself and his country. Well, before the war broke out, Granddaddy decided it was time to come back to the US and find a wife. Kaiser Wilhelm II was so fond of him that he gave him a jewel from the Prussian crown jewels as a gift. That amethyst is not a valuable stone of itself, but the mark of the King of Prussia that is engraved on the back of it would make it nearly priceless.”
I turned the pendant over in my hand. Engraved on the back was a symbol I didn’t recognize but was willing to bet it was the mark of the Prussian Crown Jewels.
“Grover, were there any other jewels?”
“Oh no. Granddaddy had a lot of treasures, but I don’t know of any that came down to Georgia. That one piece is worth the family fortune. I suppose it is yours now. That was our agreement.”
“Grover, I’m not taking advantage of you. I’m going to put it in a safe deposit box and we’ll get it back to you as soon as I close down the house here.” I hesitated before I went on. “And I don’t think Georgia committed suicide, Grover. She may not have been a perfect daughter or person, but I just don’t think she killed herself. I’m going to find out what really happened.”
“If you do, I’ll give you that jewel regardless.” He hung up.
How much?
WTF? I decided I had to get out this morning and exercise my leg, which is bruised all the way up one side. I don’t need the pebble in my shoe to limp. I knew that if I didn’t walk a bit, I’d be too stiff to walk at all. I really did a number on it. So, I walked down to a coffee shop on the main drag, got an Americano and a newspaper, and sat outside to drink it in peace. It was only forty degrees but I was warm in my big parka. I know I looked like a tired, crippled, middle-aged woman bundled up like an Eskimo, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the paper.
I’d been there about ten minutes when a guy comes up and stands about three feet away from me. I tried hard not to notice him and concentrate on my coffee and paper, all while I was watching him carefully. He was scanning up and down the block and looked nervous. These were warning signs to me and I prepared to defend myself. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
“How much?”
“How much what?” I responded automatically.
“The usual.”
“What?”
“Are you a cop?”
“No. Are you?”
“Look, I was told just to ask for the usual. You know, suck and fuck.” Oh my God! He thought I was a hooker! I didn’t know what to say. That was the most unappealing proposition I think I’ve ever heard. Was I sitting in the whore seat?
“I think you’ve got the wrong woman. I don’t usually sit here,” I said at last.
“Oh, shit!” He turned on his heel and headed around the corner as fast as he could go without conspicuously running. A minute later I heard a car peel out from the coffee shop parking lot.
What kind of man thinks a middle-aged lady drinking coffee at what looks like a respectable and busy espresso shop is a hooker? How could he possibly imagine that I’d be interested, let alone how could he possibly be interested? Yuck! My stomach turned sour and I ditched both the coffee and the paper and walked back to the house.
Evidence
I spent the rest of the day reviewing videos on the main computer while Cinnamon focused on Georgia’s financials in the dining room. Most of the videos were from the camera in the office where I was sitting. It looked like she actually used the office for business transactions and chat room discussions. It would all seem innocuous if it weren’t for her wearing some kind of teddy or other lingerie. She was never quite exposed. All kinds of chatting occurs on the internet. The conversation was all one-sided and I realized Georgia was responding to text messages on screen. The video was all of her trying to convince guys they should subscribe and join her ‘on a private camera’ upstairs.
I found a folder of ‘performances.’ Well, that was revealing. Georgia in all her fifty-some-year-old glory. Some were solo and obviously in her bedroom. And explicit. My mouth was hanging open as I scanned from video to video. Others were in a subfolder marked ‘private performances,’ and had partners. None of the partners were the same from clip to clip. I had a feeling I knew where they came from.
Comments
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