“We’ll be able to manage. All I want is for us to keep in close touch. You call me, even if you don’t have anything to say. I want to hear from you.”
Frieda took the glass from Coreen, put it on the little table beside the woman’s chair, and stared down at her. “Is there gon’ be some reason why you can’t call me sometime, too?”
Both of them laughed, and Coreen reached out and grasped Frieda’s hand. “If we lose touch, it will never be because I didn’t try to keep you close to me.”
The sound of the front door opening relieved Frieda of the need to respond to Coreen’s obvious quest for a closer mother-daughter relationship. Frieda went to see who came in and was glad for the excuse to ignore Coreen’s remark.
I’m not ready to cross that bridge,
she said to herself,
and that’s a thing I couldn’t fake.
Three days later, at the month’s end, Frieda stood at an ironing board, pressing her uniform—she preferred cotton uniforms to synthetic ones—and talking with Coreen, who sat nearby in a rocker.
“I know I can earn more in private duty, but it means working twelve-hour shifts all the time. In the hospital, I work from seven to three, five days a week. The trouble is with the wages. I won’t earn half as much at the hospital as Mr. Farrell paid me. I declare, that is one nice man.”
“As who paid you? Who did you say?”
“Mr. Farrell. He’s super to work for, and, Lord, that man looks good enough to eat. I’m gon’ pack these now, so I’ll be ready when Eric comes.”
She packed her suitcases, came back downstairs to Coreen, and sat down. She realized that she’d been sitting there five minutes, and Coreen hadn’t said a word.
Something’s out of gear here,
Frieda thought.
But if I did or said something wrong, she’ll have to tell me, ’cause I sure ain’t gon’ ask her.
Eric arrived, and Frieda would ordinarily have had dinner with them before leaving, but as Coreen remained withdrawn, Frieda told Eric that she had an appointment and would have to skip dinner.
To make sure that a rupture of her relationship with Coreen wouldn’t come from any deliberate action on her part, Frieda leaned down and kissed Coreen’s cheek. “I’m gonna miss you,” she said, and meant it.
She couldn’t know that the mention of the name Farrell took Coreen back thirty-seven years to some of the most miserable moments of her life.
Carson sat on a log beside the Patapsco River, picking up pebbles and throwing them as far as he could into the barely moving river. After an hour, he got up, dusted off his trousers, and started back to his car. His gaze took in a huge hollow log that appeared old and nearly white from the ravages of the weather. He went to the log for a closer look and determined that it was no more than a shell. He kicked it and wished he hadn’t, for the outside of the log proved as strong as if it were green and freshly felled.
He walked on slowly, trying to summon that idea that teased at the edge of his mind. “This won’t do,” he said. “I’ve never had anything beat me like this.” He got into his car, started the engine, flipped on the radio, and headed for his office. If he could just get a handle on that something that should be as clear as his hand before him.
“Picking low cotton,” Muddy Waters’s voice rang out, “sleeping in a hollow log. One more bottle of moonshine, and I—”
A hollow. Some place in that house had a hidden closet, a hidden attic, a gap between the floor and the ceiling. That was it; that was the idea that had been sitting at the edge of his mind for weeks that he hadn’t been able to grasp. A devious man like Leon Farrell wouldn’t hide anything under a carpet, but he’d make a hole in the floor, cover it up, and camouflage it. Definitely. Carson didn’t hear the remainder of Muddy Waters’s song. His mind pitched into high gear, and he pulled over, nearly out of his mind with excitement, and dialed Lucas Hamilton’s cell phone number. A topflight architect, the man lived in North Carolina, but he knew how to fly.
“Lucas, this is Carson Montgomery. Got a minute?”
“For you? You bet.”
He told Lucas briefly of his problem finding the will. “I have a feeling it’s between the floor and the ceiling or someplace like that. I don’t know why he’d do it, except that he believed at least one of his children was greedy and needy enough to find it no matter where he put it. Can you help me with it? I have the keys and the permission to search the house.”
“Sure I can, as long as the house was built after 1940. Earlier than that, I’d have to spend too much time on it. I’d be happier if one of the heirs was there when I entered.”
“I can certainly arrange that.”
“All right. I’ll be at your office tomorrow morning at nine o’clock.”
“Great. I have a feeling I’ll be able to wind this thing up, and soon. Thanks, buddy.”
“Glad to do it.”
He telephoned Gunther and told him that he had an architect whom he wanted to look at the house with a view to determining where a person could hide a will. “He wants you there when we enter, no doubt as legal protection. He’ll be at my office tomorrow morning at nine.”
“I can make that. Let’s hope Edgar doesn’t show up.”
“He may, because he’s in town.”
“I’ll see if I can check his plans,” Gunther said. “Edgar can be disruptive.”
“Tell me about it. I’ll be there at nine tomorrow morning.” So far so good. Now if Providence would only play on Gunther’s team, Edgar wouldn’t be in Ellicott City before noon. As luck would have it, Edgar met them on his motorcycle several blocks before they reached the Farrell house and evidently didn’t recognize Carson’s car.
“I hope you’re able to help,” Gunther said to Lucas Hamilton. “This has been one mind-boggling puzzle.” They shook hands. “I won’t stay, Carson, because I’d only be in the way. Be seeing you.”
“Seems like a nice enough guy,” Lucas said after Gunther left, “so what’s the problem?”
“He’s an all-right guy, from what I’ve seen of him. It’s his brother who’s a pain in the ass. He lives here. He was that motorcyclist we met a few blocks before we got here. Trust me, he’s shady, at least according to my experience with him.”
Lucas examined the floors in Leon Farrell’s quarters. “I’m satisfied that these floors have not been tampered with in any way. Now, let’s get to the walls.” After having examined half of the wall in Leon Farrell’s study / den, Lucas called Carson.
“Come here, man. I can see without touching it that this is a false wall.” He pointed to the wood paneling on one side of the room. “Whatever you’re looking for is probably right here. This entire wall has been paneled in such a way as to camouflage this ruse. Let me see if I can find the key to it.”
After searching more than half an hour, Lucas said, “Well, what do you know? It opens electronically. Press the panel in this spot and it slides open.”
The wall slid back and Carson let out a loud, sharp whistle. “Man, will you look at that! Nearly a hundred robots.”
“Was he a robot freak, or did he make them?” Lucas asked.
“Both, from what I gather.” Carson knocked his right fist into his left palm repeatedly, shaking his head as he did so. “Man, just imagine! I would never have found this. I’ve searched this room for hours. Well, I’ll have to check every one of them and every other inch of this hideaway. Wonder how you close this thing.”
Lucas pressed the panel in the spot that opened it, and it closed. “Remember that spot,” he said to Carson. “You’ve got your work cut out. There’re numerous places in here to hide a will. Before you find it, you’ll probably have solved some other mystery.”
They closed the house, and Carson drove with Lucas to the Frigate for lunch. After placing their orders, Lucas leaned back in his chair and a happy grin floated over his face.
“It just occurred to me that you and I have succeeded on every project we’ve collaborated on. And there have been many. Hats off to us, buddy.”
“Hadn’t thought of that. How’s Willis?”
“Getting rich. His ship’s come in. He’s a great guy and a true friend.”
“That he is,” Carson said. “How are Susan and those two great kids of yours? Rudy and Nathan think you walk on water.”
“They’re all well. Marriage is wonderful, Carson. Find the right woman, and your world will finally sit up straight and spin smoothly. Of course, you have to love each other, and there has to be good chemistry. Then, if the two of you have a lot in common, promote each other and complement each other, and if you’re both fully committed to the marriage and to each other, it should be a beautiful ride, man.”
“Sounds like the best of all possible worlds,” Carson said, aware that his words and tone had the ring of bitterness.
“Come on, Carson. Darnell was concerned with Darnell and no one else. Thank God you didn’t have any children. A woman who wants children seems to me a better bet for a wife than one who doesn’t.”
“She didn’t tell me she didn’t want any until I suggested we start our family. Next time, I’ll get that straight before I buy a ring.”
“Good idea. Anybody in the picture?”
Carson reached in his breast pocket for a cigarette and remembered that he gave up smoking years earlier. “Yes, there is, and when I see her tonight, I’m going to ask her that question. I think she’s precisely what I need, but we’ve got some important exploring to do before I take that big step.”
“I wish you the very best. You know that.”
“Thanks.” Carson asked the waiter for the bill, paid it, and looked at his watch. “We’d better head for the airport.”
Even with driving at seventy miles an hour in a fifty-mile zone and occasionally beating traffic by driving along the shoulder, Carson got to the Baltimore / Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport a mere thirty minutes before Lucas’s flight.
“Could we possibly have been more circumspect when we were teenagers?” Lucas asked Carson as the car came to a stop.
“I never had my wild days,” Carson said. “Maybe it’s time. I’ll expect your bill in the mail. The estate will pay for it, so be sure and send it. I am in your debt, and I can’t possibly thank you enough.”
“I was glad to do it. Consulting is a lot easier than drafting.” They enjoyed a good laugh at that, knuckle bumped each other, and said good-bye.
On the drive back to Ellicott City, Carson began to plot ways to examine the robots without the interference of any member of the Farrell family. To his mind, it would be unfair to give any of the siblings an upper hand. Edgar would raise hell, and his objection would have merit, but if he found that will, he intended to give it to Donald Riggs, the executor of the estate. Now he had to find out as much as he could about Edgar’s schedule, because he definitely was not going to search through those robots with Edgar in the house.
Shirley dressed with special care for her date with Carson that evening. She wanted to appear soft and feminine without looking like a sexpot. Her size 34-D bosom took away some of her options; finding a dress that didn’t expose half of it had proved difficult. She’d begun to wonder why dress designers didn’t quit flirting with nudity and tell women to go for it all the way. She’d found a sleeveless, V-necked dress with inserts in the skirt that flared below the hips, emphasizing her flat belly and rounded hips. The soft melon color made her cheeks glow. A teardrop diamond, tiny but real, drew attention to her cleavage, and with her hair down to her shoulders and dangling marcasite earrings, she knew she looked great.
“Where are you going dressed up like that?” Gunther asked her when she came down the stairs, her intention being to answer the door before he got to it.
“I’m going out. Why?”
“Who’s the lucky guy?”
The flame of irritability slowly furled up in her. He allowed himself the right to make a hideous mistake with that woman Lissa and yet he questioned her association with Carson Montgomery.
She faced him squarely. “I’m going to dinner with Carson Montgomery. We’re both over thirty and neither of us is married. Is there some reason why I should ask your permission? We’ve been on this road before, Gunther.”
He spread his hands, palms out. “Look, sis, for all you know, that guy is after your inheritance. All I’m asking you to do is go slowly. We don’t know the guy. Edgar picked him up, and you know Edgar’s taste in people.”
“Listen here, Gunther,” she said, her temper rising, “you checked his credentials and his reputation as a detective. What more do you need? Both are an open book. He’s an officer of the law and has been for some years. If you’re so skeptical about him, I’ll stand right here while you grill him, and the first time I see you with a woman, I’ll return the favor. I’m also going to find a rental apartment while I look for something to purchase.” She could see that she had upset him with that threat, but she meant it.
“All right. All right. No point in getting angry. You know I’m only thinking about your well-being. That’s all I’ve ever done. It won’t be easy, but I promise I’ll lay off the guy unless I see something I don’t like. If I do—”
“Okay, but be careful about what you don’t like.”