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“I’d say that about nails it, yes. When I left her, I took the thermos with me and had the tea checked. There was a mix of poorly understood Chinese herbs in the tea but nothing illegal.”
Rebekah smacked her fist against the arm of the sofa. “I never questioned it, never. I knew I was mellowing out—I was less stressed, and I really liked the taste of that tea. That bitch. But you realized what she’d done.”
“I’m suspicious by nature. Rebekah, it’s time for you to tell me exactly what happened that night. From your perspective. You can trust our discretion.”
She sighed again. “I guess there’s no point trying to keep it private any longer. I finally broke down and told Rich all about the séance. I thought I’d have to coldcock him to keep him from driving over to Zoltan’s house and attacking her. I wouldn’t be surprised if he passed the story along to his sons, even his best bud, Chief of Staff Arlan Burger.”
“Why didn’t you add me to your list?”
She blinked away tears. “I didn’t think on Thursday to tell you more about it. I couldn’t admit to myself the story might be true. My grandfather was a good man, at least I believe so from everything I know to be true about him. I preferred to think that story really was made up, and who knows, maybe it was, that’s what I told Rich. He laughed and said if the Big Take was made up, then why would someone try to kidnap me?”
“He’s right,” Savich said. “Someone found out about the Big Take story and believes it’s true. Rebekah, do you really know where the Big Take is hidden?”
“No, really, although I think I left Zoltan with the impression I did. Of course, I didn’t recite Grandfather’s poem to Zoltan, but I did hint I knew where it’s hidden. She wanted me to say the poem, but I didn’t. I told her it didn’t matter what the poem said, I intended to let whatever it was, even if it’s real, stay hidden forever.”
“Someone attacked you to hear that poem, Rebekah,” Savich said. “You need to let it go now. I’m not sure we can help you if you don’t trust us with it.”
Kit sat forward, took Rebekah’s hands in hers. “Do you still remember it?”
Rebekah sat back against the sofa cushions, clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap. “I promised Grandfather I’d never say it out loud, except to him, and I haven’t, not to anyone. I know it’s silly keeping a child’s promise, but it’s hard for me to break it, even now. In many ways, my relationship with my grandfather was the most important one I had growing up, other than with my mother, of course. It was his story and his poem, and now it’s mine. I couldn’t stand it if I let whatever it leads to tarnish his memory.”
“After what’s happened to you, Rebekah,” Savich said, “a grandfather who loved you would understand. He’d want you to tell us.”
“Then you have to promise not to repeat it, to use it only to find out who attacked me. Can I trust you, Agent Savich, Agent Sherlock, and you, Kit, not to repeat it to anyone?”
After their nods, she closed her eyes, and recited quietly:
Don’t let them know it’s hidden inside
The key to what I wish to hide
It’s in my head, already there
And no one else will guess or care
Remember these words when at last I sleep
And the Big Take will be yours to keep.
She opened her eyes. “A silly little poem, one of several he wrote for me. I asked him what the words ‘it’s in my head’ meant, and all he said was I would know someday. Of course, he never had a chance to tell me. He had the strokes and fell into the coma. I remember I thought he was only adding some charm to his story, never anything more than that—until now.” She studied Savich’s face and sighed. “I know you’re on my side, Agent Savich. I should have told you before.”
“Then you can tell me all the rest of it now.”
Rebekah laid out exactly what had happened in the séance, and Savich noted that her story was very similar to Zoltan’s.
Sherlock said, “Seems to me Zoltan knew about the Big Take and put on a big production to convince you her shtick was real, hoping you’d tell her where your grandfather had hidden it or work with her to find it. Only you didn’t do that. You shut her down. And when that didn’t work, she tried to get you kidnapped. And then that blew up in her face.”
Rebekah said, “Only thanks to Agent Savich.”
Savich said, “That would mean Zoltan is very organized and has some bad people on speed dial. She acted fast.”
Rebekah said slowly, “Is it possible she thinks she’s for real? That she really brought Grandfather to me?”
“No,” Savich said.
Kit sat forward. “All right, but it’s still possible someone we don’t know about wanted to kidnap Rebekah for ransom, that it has no connection to this Zoltan. It’s not a secret Rich is—excuse me—rich. And Rebekah is, too, for that matter, a legacy from her grandfather. Even if Rich didn’t adore Rebekah as much as he does, he’d still pay the ransom. He’d have to.”
“Yes, he’d have to, wouldn’t he?” Rebekah looked down at her hands pleating the brown afghan folded next to her on the early American sofa.
