Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 02 - Rekindling Motives by Elaine Orr Page A
Authors: Elaine Orr
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competitors, but your uncle brought in hootch for the speakeasy in the hotel, and Peter and Richard mostly sold to individuals. Folks would come in to buy bread and they’d leave with a pint wrapped in the thick paper with it.”
“And they never got caught?” I asked.
“There were some close calls, but a couple of guys in the police department bought from them, so mostly they were OK. When the revenuers from Treasury came snooping they would let local police know, so Richard and Peter had a bit of warning.”
She laughed. “They had a large mirror along a side wall, and another on the closet where they hid the whiskey. Of course, customers didn’t know it was a closet, the mirror hid the opening. Richard said a couple of times they saw a Treasury guy in the mirror before he actually got in the bakery.” She chuckled. “Richard was such a kidder. One day when Peter was in the closet Richard shut him in and put a couple of crates of flour in front of the mirror.”
I didn’t say anything to this. Mary Doris might think it was funny, but if Peter Fisher was as stiff as his photographs, then I doubted he found any humor in the situation.
“Did they make it in the storage area?” I asked.
“Goodness no. People would have smelled it. Some they bought, some they made up in that very attic you fell out of. Audrey and Richard’s mother wasn’t too bright. Richard told her it was his ‘bachelor pad.” Mary Doris thought for a moment. “The hard part was getting glass bottles to sell it in. Mostly they used canning jars. The regulars would bring their own bottles or decanters.”
“Were you at Audrey’s wedding to Peter Fisher?”
“Oh yes.” “Her look darkened. “Richard most definitely did not step on her dress on purpose. Audrey felt very bad later, that she’d accused him of that. She really missed him too.” There was a catch in her voice. “She and Richard were a good bit older than the younger two children, and their mother had a ‘weak constitution,’ as they called it back then. I guess now we’d say she was depressed. Anyway, Audrey and Richard were very good to the youngest two.”
“Are they still around?” I asked. When she gave me a puzzled look, I said, “The younger two children.”
“Oh, Sophie and Robert. He died young. Well, he was 50, I consider that very young. After high school she went to some school for girls in the city and then she married during the war, and they moved away, Chicago.” Her expression brightened. “She rarely came home and I had lost touch with her. But she actually came by the day after…the day after…” She teared up and reached for a tissue, which I pulled from the tissue holder and handed to her.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” I said, in one of my rare moments of feeling guilty.
“I don’t mind.” She dabbed at her eyes. “That’s been the one nice thing about the publicity about Richard being found. Other than me knowing with absolute certainty, I mean.” She tossed the tissue into a trash can a few feet away and grinned at me. “Should have gone out for the Knicks.”
“You would have been a crowd pleaser.” I said, wanting her to continue, but recognizing that I couldn’t rush her.
“Someone called Sophie to tell her about you and Gracie finding the skeleton, and darned if Sophie didn’t have her grandson drive her to see me the next morning.”
“From Chicago?” I almost said “at her age” but caught myself.
“She lives in Cape May now. She’s been a widow for a long time. In her late seventies but looks 15 years younger. Said she walks two miles every day.”
I mentally filed that bit of information. “Richard was the big love of your life, wasn’t he?”
“Oh yes.” She sighed. “I never did meet anyone else I cared that much about. But,” she noted my look of sympathy, “I enjoyed teaching, and I was very close to my brother and his family.” Mary Doris glanced at the bird feeder again,
“And they never got caught?” I asked.
“There were some close calls, but a couple of guys in the police department bought from them, so mostly they were OK. When the revenuers from Treasury came snooping they would let local police know, so Richard and Peter had a bit of warning.”
She laughed. “They had a large mirror along a side wall, and another on the closet where they hid the whiskey. Of course, customers didn’t know it was a closet, the mirror hid the opening. Richard said a couple of times they saw a Treasury guy in the mirror before he actually got in the bakery.” She chuckled. “Richard was such a kidder. One day when Peter was in the closet Richard shut him in and put a couple of crates of flour in front of the mirror.”
I didn’t say anything to this. Mary Doris might think it was funny, but if Peter Fisher was as stiff as his photographs, then I doubted he found any humor in the situation.
“Did they make it in the storage area?” I asked.
“Goodness no. People would have smelled it. Some they bought, some they made up in that very attic you fell out of. Audrey and Richard’s mother wasn’t too bright. Richard told her it was his ‘bachelor pad.” Mary Doris thought for a moment. “The hard part was getting glass bottles to sell it in. Mostly they used canning jars. The regulars would bring their own bottles or decanters.”
“Were you at Audrey’s wedding to Peter Fisher?”
“Oh yes.” “Her look darkened. “Richard most definitely did not step on her dress on purpose. Audrey felt very bad later, that she’d accused him of that. She really missed him too.” There was a catch in her voice. “She and Richard were a good bit older than the younger two children, and their mother had a ‘weak constitution,’ as they called it back then. I guess now we’d say she was depressed. Anyway, Audrey and Richard were very good to the youngest two.”
“Are they still around?” I asked. When she gave me a puzzled look, I said, “The younger two children.”
“Oh, Sophie and Robert. He died young. Well, he was 50, I consider that very young. After high school she went to some school for girls in the city and then she married during the war, and they moved away, Chicago.” Her expression brightened. “She rarely came home and I had lost touch with her. But she actually came by the day after…the day after…” She teared up and reached for a tissue, which I pulled from the tissue holder and handed to her.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” I said, in one of my rare moments of feeling guilty.
“I don’t mind.” She dabbed at her eyes. “That’s been the one nice thing about the publicity about Richard being found. Other than me knowing with absolute certainty, I mean.” She tossed the tissue into a trash can a few feet away and grinned at me. “Should have gone out for the Knicks.”
“You would have been a crowd pleaser.” I said, wanting her to continue, but recognizing that I couldn’t rush her.
“Someone called Sophie to tell her about you and Gracie finding the skeleton, and darned if Sophie didn’t have her grandson drive her to see me the next morning.”
“From Chicago?” I almost said “at her age” but caught myself.
“She lives in Cape May now. She’s been a widow for a long time. In her late seventies but looks 15 years younger. Said she walks two miles every day.”
I mentally filed that bit of information. “Richard was the big love of your life, wasn’t he?”
“Oh yes.” She sighed. “I never did meet anyone else I cared that much about. But,” she noted my look of sympathy, “I enjoyed teaching, and I was very close to my brother and his family.” Mary Doris glanced at the bird feeder again,
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