professional burglar would have immediately grabbed."
"Well, we already know he wasn't a professional, and we don't know if he grabbed them immediately. Who pawned the pieces in the first place?"
She glanced at the traffic and said, "Why don't we discuss this further at home?"
"I still have some things to do here. Just give me a wrap and we'll see what fits together later."
That suited her fine, and she readjusted herself in the chair. I could see the intensity in her manner, the thrill of pulling the first thread that might unravel a mystery. "For obvious reasons Harker disliked giving me the name, but I eventually persuaded him. He finally admitted that they belonged to his late mother."
"He sold his Mommy's jewelry?" That gave me a creepy feeling.
"As Harker explained, she died three years ago and the lockets remained in his store until Margaret bought them. When she brought them back to have them en-graved, he was delighted she cared about them so much. That's why he so easily recognized the lockets when Richie turned up with them. Besides recognizing his own engraving, he knew the jewelry had formerly belonged to his mother."
"He should have said so in the beginning. Who's got them now?"
She plucked at her chin. "That's a good question, one I never thought to ask. They weren't on Richie's person when his body was discovered. I don't know how thorough a search was made of his premises."
"No one would have cared much after the fact. Even if Richie had been guilty of the watchamacallit —”
“Felony Murder Doctrine."
"—the cops couldn't pin it on a dead man."
Curves presented themselves, and I could see how intrigued Anna had become, her imagination taking over and propelling her to Agatha Christie heights of deception and puzzles. "Perhaps Richie Harraday was merely a fall guy."
"To take the rap for murdering Margaret while robbing her house?"
"It is a possibility."
"Without leaving a mark on her? It sounds a little too convoluted. To go that far."
"It would be brilliant misdirection."
"I think we're barking up the wrong tree here. Let's use Occam's Razor and keep it simple."
"All right," she assented. "For the time being."
"You originally told me that several pieces of jewelry had been stolen. Was it only those two lockets or was more taken from Margaret's home?"
"I really don't know. I told you exactly what Deputy Lowell related to me. I haven't thought about the possibility of other stolen items since." It bothered her that I kept asking questions she didn't have answers to. "Perhaps Richie had more stashed somewhere in his house. Where are you meeting his brother tonight?"
"At some pub near the lumber trails." I didn't want to tell her it was Jackals. "Did Wallace have anything more to add to what Broghin told us last night?"
"No. He was of the same mind as the sheriff. Accidental overdose and a panicky friend who dumped the body."
"Some friend."
I opened the door and got out, then leaned against the window. "I'll be home in half an hour. I've got a few more things I'd like to check."
"What were your first impressions of Tons Harraday ?"
"A nice guy," I said. "He's an animal lover."
~ * ~
The Corner Convenience was a kind of threshold in the lives of most fifteen year olds in Felicity Grove; my friends and I had broken our beer teeth on six-packs and cases of Genesee picked up at the store. Timmons charged us five bucks more than if we'd been old enough to buy it legally, but we paid because we didn't want the hassle and humiliation of asking adults to sneak it to us.
It wasn't far downtown, only a mile south on a block where a modest shopping center had grown around the original stores. A recently finished development of Tudor homes sloped back into the blocks of Victorian houses, up a sprawl of knolls at the end of the street where ersatz oil lamp street lights lined the sidewalks. The area was a classic example of old meets new meets retro bygone days.
Unlike the jangling bells of
"Well, we already know he wasn't a professional, and we don't know if he grabbed them immediately. Who pawned the pieces in the first place?"
She glanced at the traffic and said, "Why don't we discuss this further at home?"
"I still have some things to do here. Just give me a wrap and we'll see what fits together later."
That suited her fine, and she readjusted herself in the chair. I could see the intensity in her manner, the thrill of pulling the first thread that might unravel a mystery. "For obvious reasons Harker disliked giving me the name, but I eventually persuaded him. He finally admitted that they belonged to his late mother."
"He sold his Mommy's jewelry?" That gave me a creepy feeling.
"As Harker explained, she died three years ago and the lockets remained in his store until Margaret bought them. When she brought them back to have them en-graved, he was delighted she cared about them so much. That's why he so easily recognized the lockets when Richie turned up with them. Besides recognizing his own engraving, he knew the jewelry had formerly belonged to his mother."
"He should have said so in the beginning. Who's got them now?"
She plucked at her chin. "That's a good question, one I never thought to ask. They weren't on Richie's person when his body was discovered. I don't know how thorough a search was made of his premises."
"No one would have cared much after the fact. Even if Richie had been guilty of the watchamacallit —”
“Felony Murder Doctrine."
"—the cops couldn't pin it on a dead man."
Curves presented themselves, and I could see how intrigued Anna had become, her imagination taking over and propelling her to Agatha Christie heights of deception and puzzles. "Perhaps Richie Harraday was merely a fall guy."
"To take the rap for murdering Margaret while robbing her house?"
"It is a possibility."
"Without leaving a mark on her? It sounds a little too convoluted. To go that far."
"It would be brilliant misdirection."
"I think we're barking up the wrong tree here. Let's use Occam's Razor and keep it simple."
"All right," she assented. "For the time being."
"You originally told me that several pieces of jewelry had been stolen. Was it only those two lockets or was more taken from Margaret's home?"
"I really don't know. I told you exactly what Deputy Lowell related to me. I haven't thought about the possibility of other stolen items since." It bothered her that I kept asking questions she didn't have answers to. "Perhaps Richie had more stashed somewhere in his house. Where are you meeting his brother tonight?"
"At some pub near the lumber trails." I didn't want to tell her it was Jackals. "Did Wallace have anything more to add to what Broghin told us last night?"
"No. He was of the same mind as the sheriff. Accidental overdose and a panicky friend who dumped the body."
"Some friend."
I opened the door and got out, then leaned against the window. "I'll be home in half an hour. I've got a few more things I'd like to check."
"What were your first impressions of Tons Harraday ?"
"A nice guy," I said. "He's an animal lover."
~ * ~
The Corner Convenience was a kind of threshold in the lives of most fifteen year olds in Felicity Grove; my friends and I had broken our beer teeth on six-packs and cases of Genesee picked up at the store. Timmons charged us five bucks more than if we'd been old enough to buy it legally, but we paid because we didn't want the hassle and humiliation of asking adults to sneak it to us.
It wasn't far downtown, only a mile south on a block where a modest shopping center had grown around the original stores. A recently finished development of Tudor homes sloped back into the blocks of Victorian houses, up a sprawl of knolls at the end of the street where ersatz oil lamp street lights lined the sidewalks. The area was a classic example of old meets new meets retro bygone days.
Unlike the jangling bells of
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