Chain of Fools - Stevenson Richard (читать книги без TXT) 📗

"Who has access to this study besides yourself, Mrs. Osborne? Who's gone in here in the past two years? From the look of the place, I'd guess the traffic hasn't been heavy."

"No, no, hardly anybody comes into this musty old room. Just myself, and Elsie to clean. The children, I suppose, from time to time, to look at their father's books and papers. Janet, you've been in, of course—but you didn't get into the urn, did you?"

"Mother, of course not!"

"Dan comes in once in a while—and June once in a blue moon. June's husband, Dick, perhaps. Chester? I don't believe so. Chester generally comes in the back door, shakes his fist at me in the kitchen, and leaves by the same route " Then she seemed to go blank.

Timmy said, "What about workmen or other outsiders, Mrs. Osborne? Have you had any electrical or telephone or other work done in this room in the last few years?"

Both the old black Bakelite telephone and the wall sconces, as well as the metal gooseneck desk lamp, looked as if they dated to the first Roosevelt administration, and Mrs. Osborne said, "Does this room look as if anyone has replaced a single item in it in the last half century? We should have done some modernizing—I always approve of technological progress if it frees people up to get on with what's truly important—but I can't recall anybody coming in here to fix or replace anything in years and years. No, no workmen stole Tom's ashes, I don't

think, and filled the urn up with cornmeal. It must have been someone in the family, is all I can think. Tidy has been in the house from time to time—and Tacker before he flew the coop. But why would either of them do such a thing?"

Dale said, "What about Eric?"

Mrs. Osborne's face drooped, and she said, "Well, naturally Eric came in here often. He borrowed books—which he always was careful to return—and he read Tom's files and papers. He liked being around Tom's things, just as I do. Eric loved his father and enjoyed being around him so terribly much, and after Tom was gone Eric liked coming in here and regaining a sense of the man. But why would Eric steal Tom's ashes without telling me, and what in heaven's name would he ever do with them?"

Janet gave Dale a quick glance, and Timmy gave me one. Janet said, "Mom, did Eric know that you sometimes actually looked inside the urn at Dad's ashes?"

"Of course not. There was no need for him to know. Not that he would have found it peculiar, I'm sure Lord knows what June would have said, or Chester—it was just too morbid, those two would surely insist. Eric, on the other hand, would have understood—as I'm sure you do, Janet And Dale, of course. But, still, there was no need, really, to tell him I ever looked inside the urn, so I didn't."

"Mom," Janet said, "Eric was the one of us who was most upset when you didn't follow Dad's wishes and scatter his ashes over the mountains. Don't you remember what a pain in the neck Eric was over that?"

"Yes, he was upset with me."

"He nagged at you for months."

"Years."

"He saw it as some kind of betrayal of trust."

"Yes, Eric made a moral issue out of it. He thought gravel tossed to the winds was more important than my mental comfort We disagreed about that."

"So maybe Eric took the ashes," Janet said, "and scattered them over the mountains himself. He figured—you know—what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you."

Mrs. Osborne's face tightened. She said, "What a dishonest thing to do. It doesn't sound at all like Eric "

"I suppose his rationale would have been that since you went against

Dad's wishes in this one matter, he could go against yours."

Looking hurt, she said, "But I'm not dead."

Janet sighed deeply. "You're right, Mom. If Eric did take the ashes, he should not have done it without at least admitting it to you afterward so you wouldn't open the urn one day and find this . . . stuff. That was wrong."

"Well," Mrs. Osborne said, "I suppose what's done is done. If indeed that's what happened. Is there some way we can verify that it was Eric who took the ashes? I do need to know that, if only for my own peace of mind. Eric I can forgive, of course, but I do need to know for certain exactly what has become of my husband's remains."

"Mrs. Osborne, I think I can do some detective work on the ashes," I said. "In fact, the mystery of the missing ashes may be directly related to another puzzling disappearance I was about to begin working on." Janet looked at me expressionlessly and nodded. She knew. Dale and Timmy looked my way too, and lightbulbs went on over their heads.

"I'll eagerly await the results of your investigation, Mr. Strachey. For now, I guess I won't be spreading my husband's ashes in my herb garden. But I am going to put out some sweet corn and tomatoes on the table in a little while. I've got some barbecued beef in the freezer I can zap and heat up. And how would you all feel about some fresh corn bread to go with it?"

Janet said, "Oh, you don't need to bother with the corn bread, Mom. I can pick up a couple of sourdough baguettes." The relief in the room was palpable.

21

We wondered why Mr. Osborne's remains glittered the way they did," Skeeter said. "It was just after sunrise on a Sunday morning during the first week in April. The pilot circled around after Eric emptied the urn out the side window of the plane, and we all said, hey, look how Mr. Osborne's ashes are glimmering and glittering in the sunlight. Isn't that beautiful!"

Timmy and I were seated next to Skeeter's bed in his room at Albany Med. Janet and Dale had remained behind with Mrs. Osborne with two Edensburg police officers watching over them, one in the front of the house, one in the rear.

Skeeter had been off the prednisone for ninety-six hours, and his sanity was pretty much back. He was also recovering well, he told us, from the Pneumocystis pneumonia, and he expected to be out of the hospital in a day or two. Some Edensburg friends of his and Eric's had been looking after him and planned on taking him into their home until he was back on his feet. Skeeter had lost weight, but his strength was returning and he hoped to be back on the job with the park service in a few weeks. When we described the hotel robbery to him and told him of the likelihood that Dan had hidden the stolen jewels in the urn with Tom Osborne's ashes, Skeeter was stunned at first. Then he remarked on how the ashes glinted in the sunlight as they drifted down. He also added, "God, I wonder if Eric knew."

I looked at Timmy, who was seated beside Skeeter holding his big hairy hand. Timmy looked at me, and we both looked back at Skeeter.

I said, "How might Eric have known the jewels were in the ashes?"

"I don't know, and I think he would have told me if he'd known

there was anything valuable in there. We always told each other really important stuff. But maybe Eric wanted to protect me from guilty knowledge that could get me in trouble with the park service. That's something old Eric might have done for me," Skeeter said bleakly, the grief showing in his face all over again.

"You two were really a great pair," Timmy said. "I'm so, so sorry you lost Eric, Skeeter."

"Eric was the great love of my life," Skeeter said, his voice quavering. "Until I met Eric, I never knew how strong and real love could be between two men. If I'd never met Eric, I might have gone my entire life without loving and being loved by another man."

Timmy colored a little, squeezed Skeeter's hand, and said, "Oh."