"Lloyd Arthur Esbach - Sister Abigail's Collection" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eshbach Lloyd Arthur)

of almost thirty years of happy companionship. He visualized the last moments in the
funeral home тАФsaw again the pendant on AnnтАЩs breast, almost flamboyant in its
vivid
coloring, but her wish.

And then, sudden as a bell sounding he recalled AnnтАЩs cousin taking pic-tures
тАФ ghoulish, he had thought at the time. She had sent him a set of color prints; he
remembered tossing them into a drawer. After a brief search he found the envelope
and the picture that clearly showed the jewel. Sternly re-pressing any emotional
reaction, he placed the single photograph in an en-velope and slid it into an inside
jacket pocket. Over the intercom he spoke to his secretary.

тАЬMiss Connell, get me Lane Stafford of the Stafford Funeral Home.тАЭ

тАЬYes, Mr. Moreland.тАЭ

In moments the phone rang. тАЬMr. Stafford тАФ Attorney Moreland. Will you be
free any time this morning? . . . Good. IтАЩll be there within the hour.тАЭ He stood up,
moved briskly into the outer office.

тАЬMiss Connell,тАЭ he said, тАЬIтАЩll be gone for the rest of the day, and I may not be
in tomorrow. So far as I know, thereтАЩs nothing pressing, but if you need to reach
me, I expect to be home after four.тАЭ He saw the curious look in her eyes but did
nothing about it.

Outside, he retraced the twenty min-ute walk to his home. HeтАЩd need his car.
Passing the pawnshop he could not re-sist another look at the turquoise-cov-ered
skull, an involuntary тАЬDamn you!тАЭ flashing to his mind.

The part-time maid had already ar-rived and was busy with her chores. Too
big a place for one man, he thought, as he had done many times before. Some day
heтАЩd sell and move into a bachelor apartment.

He drove across town to the funeral home, a structure of genteel opulence,
typical of all of its kind. An attendant opened his car door and ushered him into the
hushed interior where he was greeted by the somberly-clad Stafford himself. As the
mortician led the way into his office, he said in professionally subdued tones, тАЬOur
paths havenтАЩt crossed in quite some time, Mr. More-land. I trust that you have no
need of my services.тАЭ

Moreland shook his head impa-tiently. тАЬNo тАФ but I do have a problem which
I hope you can solve.тАЭ After they were seated he drew out the photo-graph. тАЬI
suppose youтАЩll recall my wifeтАЩs funeral eight months ago. This picture was taken by
her cousin тАФ atrocious taste, I thought it.тАЭ He indicated the pendant. тАЬRemember
the jewelry?тАЭ

Stafford frowned, obviously puzzled. тАЬI do indeed remember.тАЭ

тАЬYou may also remember that I made the piece; I do this as a hobby. This
was the reason my wife valued it so highly.тАЭ Without waiting for a response