Ava didn’t like the thought, so she started moving right away. She’d passed several pawn shops in the last few days but couldn’t for the life of her remember their names or where they were. They had no choice but to walk the streets, looking for pawn brokers and hoping they could slip into the mindset of a panicked woman, on a mission to sell diamond earrings just to make ends meet. And in trying to think from that perspective,Ava started to realize that it wasn’t all that impossible to think of a woman in that position being pushed by anger—maybe even pushed hard enough to kill someone she felt had betrayed her.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Yeah, I’d think this would be the place,” Pawlowski said.
And thank God for that, Ava thought. It had been a tiresome task so far, one that she wasn’t sure would ever end. Before this little hunt, Ava had never stepped inside a pawn shop, so when she started entering them to ask about a woman selling diamond earrings, she was slightly amazed at the variety of goods. There were clothes, guitars, old jars, books, household items and yes, jewelry. And though Ava had never been the sort of woman that had gone all ga-ga over jewelry, she did have a trained enough eye to tell when something was cheap or of exceptional quality.
By the time they’d visited their fourth pawn shop, Ava wasn’t sure it was going to work. They’d asked four different brokers about women selling jewelry and so far their only hit had been an old woman that had sold a rather expensive pocket watch.
“It’s strange, actually,” that particular broker told them. “With the state of things the way they are, you’d think lots of folks would come in to sell their valuables. But it seems to be the opposite. I don’t know if it’s because they’re hoping things will make a turn for the better really soon or if they’re waiting until things getrealbad.”
Ava assumed the broker was leaving out one crucial bit of information, probably so their business seemed more lucrative than it actually was: maybe brokers were a little less inclined to buy expensive items when they knew hardly anyone had money to buy anything.
They’d walked seven blocks when they came to the fifth pawn shop—the one Pawlowski seemed so certain was the right place. Even before they stepped inside, Ava could see that it was the nicest one they’d visited. The windows were clean and polished;some of the nicer items were on display on shelves and little stands: watches, gold chains, collectible coins, rings, and so on.
The interior of the shop proved her right. There was a neat and tidy order to the items displayed around the shop. The lighting was soft and inviting, the air filled with the scent of a cleaning agent of some kind.
They walked up to the counter and were greeted by a jovial man with a thick moustache. As they were the only people in the shop, he seemed more than happy to give them his undivided attention.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said. “You looking for anything in particular?”
“You could say that,” Ava said, presenting her badge. After identifying themselves, the man behind the counter made a transition from jovial to suddenly very businesslike. “We’re trying to track down a woman that recently sold a pair of diamond earrings. Would you happen to remember a woman that fits that description.”
“How recently are we talking?”
“Sometime in the past two or three weeks.”
“Fortunately for you ladies, not many people have come in selling things like that. So, yes, I do remember a woman that came in. It’s been about two weeks, give or take a few days. And actually…”
He paused and looked down beneath the counter he was standing behind. After rummaging around for a few seconds and muttering cheerfully to himself, he stood back up with a small, delicate box in his hands.
“These are the very earrings she sold me. We bickered back and forth on the price a bit, but I think she left mostly happy.”
“Do you have a bill of sale, by any chance?” Pawlowski asked.
“I do, indeed. I can fish it out for you, if you’d like.”
“That would be amazing,” Ava said. “We need to get her address.”
“Ah, well then I don’t need to go fishing for it at all. When I asked her for an address, she was really mean about it, you know? Like it was none of my business. but I always get at least an address for a customer when it’s a transaction of more than twenty-five dollars. She was very rude about it but then finally said she was staying at the Norman Hotel. I remember it because I thought it was odd. She was a pretty lady, you know? Held herself in high regard. You could tell she was…sort of used to people thinking she was the cat’s pajamas.”
“That’s a tremendous help,” Pawlowski said. “But just so we can confirm everything, we’d still like you to get that receipt. We’d like to get the woman’s name if possible.”
“Sure. One second.”
The proprietor turned away and walked behind a large case that served as sort of a false wall behind his front counter. He came back thirty seconds later with a single, short slip of paper.
“Right here,” he said, handing it over. “K. Branson.”
It was the confirmation they needed. It was ironic, in a way, that a pair of earrings sold by the woman in question was going to lead the police to her.
Ava handed the receipt back to the pawn broker, giving him a nod and a smile. “We really do appreciate your help,” she said as she and Pawlowski turned back for the exit.
“Any idea where the Norman Hotel is?” Ava asked.
“Yes, actually,” Pawlowski said. Her eyes were already scanning the streets for a cab. “I was working with another officer a few weeks ago and busted up a moonshine outfit working out of one of the rooms. It’s not exactly an upstanding sort of place. If thatiswhere Kathleen Branson ended up, she’s taken a very big step down.”
Pawlowski waved down a cab and less than three minutes after taking a look at Kathleen Branson’s earrings, they were on the way to the Norman Hotel. The cab took them in a mostly direct route but Ava found herself slightly awed and sad at the same time as she realized just how quickly the quality and vibrancy of the city could change. In some places, it really only took a few blocks. It was a feature of the city that had gotten progressively worse the longer the stock market crash continued to gnaw away at everyone and everything.