Sleepless in Manhattan Read online

  But right now, Beth’s brain felt muddled, and it was true that she was tired. Maybe she should give in to the sandman – after all, she had made a bit of a stride in understanding this next clue. The rest could wait.

  She set the computer aside, realizing her eyelids were growing heavy and that maybe – just maybe – sleeping on this puzzle might give her the clarity that she needed in the morning to solve it.

  Chapter 12

  ‘Remember Romancing the Stone?’ Beth asked Jodi at work the following morning.

  Her friend nodded. ‘Of course. Kathleen Turner before she gained pounds and years. And Michael Douglas before the surgery. Haven’t seen that movie in a while, though.’

  ‘Well, I think at the very least I’ve figured out that the treasure hunt clues are movie-themed,’ Beth told her excitedly. ‘I just can’t figure out what to do with this information. Am I supposed to go somewhere, like I did with the Tiffany’s one?’

  Jodi thought for a moment. ‘Hmm, if it’s supposed to send you somewhere, I don’t remember much of that movie being in New York. Are you sure you aren’t supposed to jump a plane to a jungle in Colombia or something?’

  Beth frowned. ‘I can’t imagine that being the case. Seems way over the top. I feel that since the Breakfast at Tiffany’s clue was New York-focused, then this one might be too.’

  Jodi nodded and looked as if she was trying to order her thoughts. ‘OK, so the parts that were in New York – wasn’t Kathleen Turner an author or something in that flick?’ Beth nodded. ‘So, maybe one of the big publishing houses on Park Avenue? Or maybe you are supposed to go to a bookstore? I don’t know . . . I also think there is a connection to a treasure map in the movie but, as I recall, that takes Ms Turner somewhere else entirely.’

  Beth shook her head. ‘I don’t know, I thought of the treasure map as the obvious choice, too. But that just doesn’t really feel right. So, think of the clues; they must do more than just point me towards the movie. The woman at Tiffany’s said to me, “What’s it gonna be, Angelina?” And then in the clue, the quote talked about “sailing away”.’

  Jodi paused for a moment as she considered Beth’s words and then suddenly the shoe dropped. Quite literally, as she let go of the Valentino slingback she’d been holding. ‘Of course. The boat.’

  Beth shook her head, confused. ‘What? What boat?’

  ‘The boat in the movie,’ Jodi explained. ‘Remember? At the end. Michael Douglas is on that boat right in the middle of the street – it’s being towed or something – and he sweeps Kathleen Turner off her feet, and they kiss and the “boat” sails off – right in the middle of Manhattan. That has to be it.’

  Beth felt her heart race with excitement at finally making a New York connection to the movie. But there was one not so insignificant problem with that. ‘Where am I supposed to find a boat in the middle of Manhattan? That’s not exactly a regular occurrence,’ she said, realizing that the idea of a boat being towed down Fifth Avenue or any other street on the island was indeed a movie moment, but not at all likely to happen in real life.

  But Jodi didn’t look at all deterred by this. In fact, she was smiling.

  ‘Why do you look so happy?’

  Jodi laughed knowingly. ‘Oh, just because for once in our friendship it is you who is thinking too literal and negative, and me who actually sees the big picture. Me who is keeping a positive mind. Me who’s solved your little clue.’

  Beth grimaced impatiently, wishing that Jodi would just get on with it. ‘Tell me then. Spit it out, what am I missing?’

  ‘Fine. But you need to promise me something.’

  ‘Of course, anything.’

  Her friend nodded, apparently satisfied. ‘I’m going to tell you what I think and in turn, you are going to take me with you on the hunt. OK?’

  Beth nodded. ‘Whatever, yes, fine. Now stop drawing it out and just tell me, for goodness’ sake.’

  ‘OK, OK, don’t get your knickers in a twist. So I am thinking that if your clue is directing you to a boat, and you’re looking for boats in Manhattan, you don’t have to look any further than your own neighbourhood – this weekend, actually.’

  Beth tried hard to figure out what her friend was talking about but drew a blank. Of course, Lower Manhattan was home to the harbour and there were docks and waterfront galore, but that seemed almost too simple.

  ‘Maybe you aren’t looking for a boat to be sailing down a street in Manhattan to solve this clue, but you are looking for a sailboat. Possibly one named Angelina. And while that might sound like a long shot, I’m willing to bet that there might just be a boat of that name at the Manhattan Sailing Exhibition, conveniently scheduled for this very weekend. In Lower Manhattan, like I said.’ With that admission Jodi settled back into her work as if unaffected by the look of sheer, unadulterated joy on her friend’s face.

  ‘Oh, wow!’ Beth exclaimed, immediately grabbing her iPhone and doing a search for the Sailing Exhibition. ‘I would have never suspected that – I would have never known about this at all. Which begs the question: how did you know?’

  ‘What – are you saying I’m not a classy enough broad to know about high-brow things like sailing? Well, you’re probably right,’ she laughed. Then: ‘It’s Trevor, the guy I told you about before – the one I’m seeing – he’s into sailing. And he’s thinking about buying a boat. That’s why he got tickets and he and I are going this weekend.’

  Beth was focused on her phone, but looked up at Jodi’s words. ‘Ah, no. Do you need tickets to get in? How can I get one? Maybe I can buy them online?’

  Jodi waved her hand, dismissing Beth’s suggestion. ‘No, they’ve been sold out for ages. Apparently, this is a big deal to the Park Avenue community. I think Trevor has had his for a while, but I’ll ask him to see about getting a pass for you too.’

  Happy and relieved, Beth reflected on her luck. How perfect that Jodi had not only figured out this clue, at least pointing her in the right direction, but also that she had a ready-made connection that would enable Beth to get a ticket to the event itself.

  Which made Beth wonder, how would she have figured out this part of the treasure hunt if she had been unable to get a ticket to the Sailing Exhibition? Obviously, whoever was behind this movie-themed hunt had yet to reveal another part of the clue besides the Tiffany box. The mastermind must surely have had a trick up his sleeve to get her to the exhibition.

  She just had to wait and see how.

  That evening, after work, Beth decided that she had too much nervous energy to sit around at home so she threw on her comfy boots and grabbed Brinkley’s leash. The clues and the hunt were consuming her thoughts, even more so now that she guessed there was nothing she could do except wait and wonder if the boat exhibition was the right direction.

  ‘Come on, boy, let’s go for a walk. I need to clear my head.’

  The little dog was only too happy to oblige and, reaching the lobby, Beth waved a brief hello to Billy, deciding to tell him where she was off to in the dark, just in case.

  ‘Oh, Beth, hello.’ Billy blushed from ear to ear, and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I was just . . .’ His voice trailed off and Beth noticed that he appeared flustered, as if she’d interrupted something.

  She glanced briefly over the desk. It looked as though he was in the middle of wrapping something, a small package of sorts. But why did he look almost guilty?

  ‘We’re off out for a walk. Shouldn’t be more than half an hour or so,’ she told him casually, though she was curious as to why the typically unflappable concierge seemed so ruffled.

  ‘No problem. Enjoy.’

  ‘I will.’ Beth looked at him strangely as she exited the building. There seemed to be lots of strange goings-on with the men she knew these days.

  Oh, well, whatever Billy was up to was clearly none of her business.

  Heading out onto the street, she breathed in the night air. All the noise and bustle of the day had left the night in a tired and
quiet calm. Brinkley looked right and left and then happily chose his path, walking towards City Hall Park. Beth was happy to let the pooch lead the way; it gave her one less thing to think about.

  Thinking back again to Ryan and whether he might be the one behind the treasure hunt, Beth had to admit that Jodi was right about what she’d said the other night – deep down she knew that there was an attraction between them and that she should leave well alone, especially since she was not in the position to be anything more than a friend, and Ryan didn’t have that restriction or limitation.

  And then, there was Danny. Her Danny. The man that to all intents and purposes was her life partner, her soul mate, the person she had built a life with.

  She wasn’t willing to give him up or admit that her relationship was in trouble. Jodi was right, she was not good at talking about the bad or difficult stuff, and confrontation over real (or imagined) issues had certainly never been her strong suit. Beth had always argued that it was because she preferred to look on the bright side of life.

  But was it that she was too scared to confront reality? Now she wasn’t sure.

  All she knew was that something was going wrong in her relationship, in parallel to something good and intriguing happening elsewhere and, try as she might, she felt powerless to stop either one.

  Chapter 13

  The following morning, Billy was just finishing a phone call with Mrs Lovejoy in apartment 15H when a bike messenger rolled up in front of the building, jumped from his bike, propped it up against the glass partition (much to Billy’s chagrin) and shuffled into the lobby. He had his messenger bag strapped across his chest and took a bored look at his surroundings before making eye contact with the concierge.

  Meeting his gaze, Billy politely put a finger up, indicating that he wouldn’t be long.

  ‘Absolutely, Mrs Lovejoy,’ he said. ‘I have made a note of it here. The agency is to send over a new housekeeper for you to interview this week and if she looks suspicious – oh, I’m sorry, yes, I’m writing it down now. Shifty-eyed. If she looks shifty-eyed I should not let her up.’ Billy paused as he listened. ‘I certainly understand. Yes, it’s always difficult when you suspect someone is stealing from you. Right. Of course, it wasn’t overly valuable. Just some plastic bags. Right. You never can be too careful. But I wonder, Mrs Lovejoy, if she might have just been recycling them for you? Yes. OK, I realize you had a lot of them. And sure, she might not have realised that you were keeping them for a reason.’

  Billy looked again at the bike messenger and flashed a grin. He covered the mouthpiece of the phone with his hand and said, ‘Sorry, this woman can talk.’

  The bike messenger shrugged.

  So Billy continued on with his conversation. ‘Not to worry, Mrs Lovejoy. I will keep a watch out. And you know I have your best interests at heart. Of course, of course.’ Billy listened for another moment. ‘All right then. I have to go now, I have someone here I need to help, so thank you. Cheerio!’ And he hung up the phone without further ado, rubbing his ear.

  ‘Mother of God, if I get that age and turn crazy, just put me out of my misery. The woman fired her housekeeper for “stealing plastic bags”.’ He rubbed his temple for a moment. ‘Now what do you have for me, lad? I’m assuming I need to sign for something.’

  ‘Just this envelope. It’s for Beth Harper.’ The messenger looked at his clipboard. ‘In 28F.’ Billy took the clipboard from the messenger and hastily signed his name. He handed the clipboard back to him as the messenger passed him a manila envelope.

  ‘Thank you. I’ll be sure to give it to her when she comes home from work.’

  The messenger snapped his gum and put his clipboard back in his bag. ‘She’s popular, huh? She works at Carlisle’s, doesn’t she?’ he asked.

  Billy raised his eyebrows and quickly looked the bike messenger up and down, suddenly on full alert. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I delivered something to her there a few days ago. Has to be the same person. Cute little blonde, right?’

  Billy raised an eyebrow. ‘Why do you want to know?’

  The bike messenger put his hands up in front of him to indicate he didn’t mean any harm. ‘Hey, buddy, no reason. Just curious, that’s all. Just saying, she’s popular. It’s cool.’ He began backing away, clearly wanting to get out of the lobby now that Billy had shown signs of overprotectiveness about one of his residents.

  The last thing I need is someone thinking I’m stalking this chick. Don’t shoot the messenger, bro. Besides, it seemed like she already has a stalker, with these weird deliveries, he thought ominously.

  Just as he was about to push through the glass doors and reclaim his bike, Billy called out, ‘Wait. Who do you work for?’

  The messenger pointed to his partially obscured T-shirt. ‘A to Z Messenger Service signs my pay cheques. But we have a bunch of contracts. Advertising, marketing and law firms, individuals, you get my drift. See ya, man.’

  And with that, he was gone.

  Billy watched him jump on his bike and speed off. The messenger himself, the name of his company, even this envelope – all were completely ambiguous, vague.

  Well, when Beth came back he’d pass it on as asked. After all, he sighed, he was just the concierge. He kept the lobby safe, he signed for deliveries, made sure his residents were taken care of – it wasn’t his business to snoop. New Yorkers in general might be pretty paranoid, but Billy wasn’t Homeland Security – he wasn’t paid to do detective work.

  Although, he guessed, he’d be a dab hand at that, too. Nope, this delivery had nothing whatsoever to do with him. He would make sure he passed it on to Beth and whatever happened after that, happened.

  ‘Hello, Billy,’ Beth greeted him warmly later that evening.

  ‘How are you today? Staying warm in this cold, I hope?’

  Billy smiled and walked out from behind his desk with an envelope in his hand. ‘As warm as I can be, with those doors opening and closing all day. How are you doing yourself today, Beth? All OK with you? All good with Danny?’

  She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and gave a tentative reply, wondering what Billy was getting at. ‘Of course. All good. Why do you ask?’

  Billy shook his head and smiled and Beth noticed that he was blushing again. ‘Ah, no reason,’ he continued. ‘A messenger came earlier with this delivery for you. He was a bit sketchy, so I just wanted to make sure you were OK. That’s all.’ He handed the envelope to her delicately, but she could tell he was more interested than he was letting on.

  As was Beth, when she realised that this was exactly what she’d been waiting for.

  She took the envelope from him and without hesitation ripped it open, then put her hand in and extracted two items. A ticket and what looked to be a programme or leaflet of some sort.

  ‘Oh, perfect!’ she exclaimed delighted.

  Billy bit his lip and raised his eyebrows expectantly. ‘Something you were expecting, then?’

  ‘Yes. Absolutely. A friend of a friend was sending this over for me. I didn’t expect to get it so soon, though.’

  ‘Very good. Right then, much ado about nothing. Sorry, had my radar up. That’s all. Some of these bike messengers, you know how they can be; some of them act weird.’

  Beth laughed and playfully patted the concierge’s arm. ‘Ah, Billy, I think you might be getting paranoid like the natives. But thank you for looking out for me all the same. I appreciate it.’

  She put the ticket to the Manhattan Sailing Exhibition and the accompanying programme – which described the boats that would be on display, and provided owner biographies and the like – into her bag and headed in the direction of the elevators. ‘See you later,’ she called over her shoulder as she started typing out a text to Jodi. She wanted to let her friend know that she’d got the ticket and to thank her for obviously communicating the need to Trevor so quickly. She hadn’t mentioned anything that day at work about talking to him, so Beth just assumed she’d pick up her ticket on the da
y.

  Hey, thanks. A messenger dropped the ticket off for the exhibition earlier. I appreciate it. Tell Trevor thanks from me.

  She punched the button for the elevator and waited. A second later her phone buzzed in her hand, signalling an incoming text.

  ???? No idea what you are talking about, was Jodi’s reply.

  With a furrowed brow, Beth wrote, The ticket? To the boat show? Arrived earlier by messenger. Assuming it’s from your friend Trevor.

  Seconds later, another text.

  I haven’t spoken to him yet about it. If you got a ticket, it’s not from him . . .

  As Beth read Jodi’s words, a fresh shiver of excitement ran up her spine. She pulled the ticket and the accompanying programme out of her bag and looked at them again. The ticket was straightforward enough – just a simple pass to grant her entry. But then there was the programme.

  Maybe this was another part of the clue? Maybe she had to use the programme to figure out what she was supposed to see at the exhibition? Beth, thanks to Jodi, had been assuming there must be a boat named the Angelina – but maybe it wasn’t that simple?

  The elevator dinged in front of her, signalling its arrival, and the doors opened. But Beth ignored it. Instead, she returned to the front lobby. She had to talk to Billy again. With flushed cheeks, she approached his desk. ‘Billy. The messenger who delivered this. He was a bike messenger, yes?’

  Startled afresh, he looked around. ‘Um . . . yes. Bike messenger. He worked for A to Z Messengers, he said. Why? Is something wrong after all? Do you want me to call his employer?’

  Beth shook her head. ‘No, no, it’s OK, don’t worry. I just need to know. Did he say anything else when he dropped that envelope off? Anything at all?’

  Billy thought for a moment. ‘Yes, he said that his company did work for all sorts of companies and private individuals – and he knew where you worked too. At Carlisle’s. I thought that was a bit suspect at the time. Is he pestering you, Beth? Is he a stalker? Do you want me to call the cops?’