Read Online Santa Clawed by Rita Mae Brown - Free Book Online Page B

sway. If you didn’t press an obol into his palm, you’d be stuck on the shores until you could beg, borrow, or steal the small sum. Given that one was dead, this could prove difficult, so the families of the deceased took great care to include the fare with the corpse. Since Greeks often carried small coins under their tongues—unthinkable with today’s money—it was natural to put an obol under the tongue as well.
    Nothing new transpired with her phone calls. Harry then called a local coin dealer, Morton Nadal, and was surprised to find a very upset man on the line.
    “Why are you asking me about the obols?” he demanded.
    “Uh, well, curiosity.” The small detail had not yet found its way into the ever-intrusive media.
    “Are you in on it?”
    “Sir, in on what?”
    “You’re the third person to call me about my obols. I have coins from Alexandria, Athens, Corinth, but it’s all obols.”
    “I’m sorry to bother you.”
    “What did you say your name was again?”
    “Mrs. Fair Haristeen. I live in Crozet.”
    “Hold on a moment.” After a brief interlude he again spoke: “Well, that’s a real name, but it may not be yours. The other two people gave fake names, although I didn’t check when they first called.”
    “Again, Mr. Nadal, I’m sorry. I only wanted to know if you’d sold any.”
    “Not a one. Some were stolen the night before last, I think, but I didn’t find out until today.” Before she could say anything, he added, his voice raised, “I’m meticulous, and no one broke in to the front of the house where I keep my collection.”
    “How do you think they were stolen?”
    “What’s it to you?”
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Nadal. I can see I’m a bother. I assume you called the sheriff.”
    “Did.” He hung up the phone.
    Harry then called Cooper, relaying the conversation.
    “He’s a piece of work and looks just like you think he would—a large ant with glasses.” Cooper exhaled. “Two people went into his house, a woman and a man. He gave a lax description, only that they were more young than old, the man distracted him, the woman took the obols.”
    “Why didn’t he find it out then?”
    “She’d put fake coins in their place—same size, anyway—and I guess he was in a hurry. I don’t know. He’s a weird little thing and so excitable.”
    “Nothing useful?”
    “Only that the man was largish, had a mustache and a big laugh.”
    “Anything else?”
    “Three obols were stolen.”
    “Three?”
    “Three.”

W
ho died and made you God?”
Pewter, tail moving slightly, spit at Tucker.
    “Jealous.”
Tucker smiled, then walked away from the angry gray cat.
    Tucker had stayed with Harry as Harry made all the phone calls. The cats had been in the barn.
    Mrs. Murphy, irritated herself, prudently did not insult the corgi.
“If you piss her off, she’ll never tell.”
    Pewter, upset though she was with the idea that a mere dog could consider herself superior to a cat, hated the idea of being uninformed even more. An argument could be made that the rotund kitty lived for gossip. Pewter thought of it as news.
    “You’re right.”
Pewter’s admission nearly floored the tiger cat.
“But I’m not going to make it up to her. You can do that.”
    Sighing deeply, Mrs. Murphy walked after Tucker, who had repaired to the living room to flop in front of the fireplace.

    Harry and Fair sat at opposite ends of the large sofa, a throw over their legs, slippers on the floor, each reading a book.
    The aroma of burning wood pleased Mrs. Murphy, so long as the smoke didn’t invade her eyes. She sat next to the dog.
    Tucker lifted her head.
“Too bad we couldn’t have gone to the coin dealer. We pick up things the humans might miss.”
    “Mother isn’t leaving a stone unturned about the ancient coins.”
Mrs. Murphy settled down next to the dog, who had informed her of the conversations.
    “Pewter still having a cow?”
The dog laughed, which came out as little wind