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Authors: Jill Churchill

Tags: #Mystery, #Historical

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BOOK: Who's Sorry Now?
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This time Robert actually slapped his head. "I guess there's a door to this back room?”

Harry was getting frustrated. "Did you think Mr. McBride could crawl in through a letter box?"

“But, Harry, we don't know how many people there are in Voorburg. Will two hundred boxes be enough?"

“They'll
have
to be enough. When they're done, McBride can sell lottery tickets for them. Twenty-five cents each ticket. That will help fund his payment, and if
the town council coughs up the initial cost, McBride could pay back a dime for each ticket. And I assume you're expecting people who have the winning numbers to also pay some small amount a year to use them. That's how you could reimburse the costs—if the town council agrees to funding the plan. Half to McBride, half until the city is paid back."

“Of course," Robert said as if he'd already thought of this. He hadn't. And suspected Harry knew it.

“You don't happen to know what became of my can of red paint, do you?" Harry asked.

“I didn't even know you had one," Robert replied.

“Mrs. White wanted a little chest painted red for her adopted girls. I had it almost finished
an
d
my paint and best brush disappeared.”

Robert said, "I'll keep an eye out for anyone painting something red. Thanks for your advice about the mail.”

Later on Monday, Robert learned how the stolen can of paint had been used. He'd decided to drop in at Mr. Kurtz's new shop to find out how business was going so far. He was shocked when he saw Mr. Kurtz and his granddaughter scraping a red swastika off the front window of the tailor shop with razor blades. "Wait!" Robert exclaimed. "Have you called the chief of police about this? He needs to know. Look here," he pointed at a faint blob of extra paint. "It's a fingerprint. Don't scrape it off until Chief Walker sees it.”

Mr. Kurtz objected. His face was pale and frantic. "How could someone think I was a Nazi? I came halfway around the world to escape them."

“You need to sit down inside and wait until I call Chief Walker."

“Grandpa, Mr. Brewster is right."

“I don't want anyone else seeing this," he said firmly, going back to scraping.

“Then leave that fingerprint where it is," Robert said, pointing it out to Mr. Kurtz again.

Chief Walker arrived in ten minutes. "I don't know how to remove a painted fingerprint and keep it intact. I'm going to have to call in an expert to lift it where it is.”

He went inside to call for help while Mr. Kurtz kept scraping at the swastika. His granddaughter came inside
an
d
so did Robert.

“Sit down and keep an eye on your grandfather so he doesn't scrape off the fingerprint and I'll make us some coffee," Robert said, wondering how much coffee he'd need, having never made it himself. "Or maybe we should do it the other way?" he asked Mrs. Smithson.

“You don't know how to make coffee, right?" Mrs. Smithson said with a knowing smile.

“Unfortunately not. Has your grandfather had customers yet?"

“Yes. Mrs. White came in with some of her little girls' dresses to have the hems let down. She said she'd taken one of her dresses that needed taking in to the tailor in Cold Spring, and he was rude. Not only that, he did a very bad job. She was sure my grandfather would do a better job. She's such a nice woman, and I've never heard her complain. But she was bitter about the other tailor. She'd bought a dress that was on sale without trying it on, and the seam at the shoulder was wrong. Too wide. That tailor just pinned it, and even poked her arm with a pin. When she went back, he'd just folded the fabric back into the shoulder and made the sleeves bunch up. Grandpa told her to bring the dress in when she picked up the little girls' dresses and he'd fix it correctly.”

Mrs. Smithson went on, supposing Robert was more interested than he really was. "She brought in those adorable little girls she adopted to have their dresses let out at the hems. They're getting taller. Grandpa told her the dresses wouldn't look good that way. The inside color wouldn't match the outside. So he took her back where he has all his fabrics and let her choose fabrics that matched some of the colors in the dresses and added them to the bottom hems, sort of like petticoats. He also told the girls how pretty they were."

“Mrs. White is dotty about those little girls," Robert said. Anybody else come in?"

“Later on a man came in and just looked around.”

“Did you recognize him?"

“Never saw him before."

“What did he look like?"

“I didn't pay much attention. I was fixing Grandpa a sandwich. A smallish m
an,
shorter than I. Not quite clean, skinny. Thinning brown hair. Grandpa asked if he needed anything tailored. The man just shrugged. He was watching as Grandpa was hanging up his shears on the back wall, and putting his other things in drawers under the counter. I'll make the coffee. Keep a close eye on Grandpa.”

Watching Mr. Kurtz wasn't as easy as it sounded. The old man had almost finished scraping off the swastika and was eyeing the extra blob of paint. As he approached it, Robert said, "You can't scrape that off until the finger print m
an
gets here."

“Yes, I will. My window must be clean.”

Robert had to cup his hand carefully over the paint spot to keep the tailor from destroying it. Kurtz was angry, and he went inside to get a damp rag to clean up the paint that had fallen onto the sill of the window. Robert maintained his uncomfortable stance, until Chief Walker and the fingerprint expert arrived half an hour later. By then Robert's right shoulder and wrist were in agony from holding his hand cupped over the fingerprint.

“I've never seen such a
fi
ngerprint," the expert said with a laugh. "Talk about a stupid crook." He rummaged through the bag he'd brought along, dusted some powder over the
f
ingerprint, lifted it with a bit of sticky paper, and put the paper in a small box with great care.

“It will take a while to compare this to our list of known criminals."

“How long?" Robert asked. "Probably a week. Maybe more."

“May Mr. Kurtz scrape it off? He's determined to do so."

“I probably should take a second sample then," the fingerprint expert said. "Just to be sure we have a good copy, and so someone else can help me search the records we have on file."

“Do it now, please," Robert begged. "My arm aches from protecting it.”

When the two boxes had been taken away, Mr. Kurtz
i
mmediately scraped away the
f
ingerprint. Then he proceeded to clean the entire window with rags and vinegar.

Chief Walker asked if Robert had already had breakfast. Robert admitted he had, but said, "I could do with another. Mrs. Prinney has run out of flour so there was no bread this morning. First time it's ever happened.”

Howard complained, "The woman at the boardinghouse tried to use last night's corned beef in a horrible omelet. The corned beef had dried out and the eggs were overcooked. Let's go to Mabel's
an
d
have a good early lunch. There's something I want to talk to you about.”

They were both so hungry that they didn't speak until they'd eaten. They were at a table at the very back of the restaurant
an
d
the place was almost deserted.

“Here's my question," Howard said, seeming somewhat reluctant to put it bluntly. "You take boarders at Grace and Favor. Miss Twinkle and Mrs. Tarkington. Would I qualify as another boarder?"

“Of course you would, I assume. The women, in particular, would like to have another man around, especially an officer of the law. But are you sure you want to be that far from town?"

“It's downhill all the way," Walker said, folding his napkin and putting it beside his empty plate. "Not as time consuming as fighting my way up the hill."

“But you'd need your telephone line run clear up there," Robert said. "I'm sure the household wouldn't want to be answering your calls."

“I've thought about that
an
d
priced it. What I'd save on the boardinghouse room
an
d
the tiny overflow office there would more than make up for the cost of a telephone line. I'm sick to death of my clothes and hair smelling of cabbage. It's the pervasive odor of the entire boardinghouse I live in now."

“It takes a unanimous vote to accept a boarder," Robert told Howard. "But I'm sure it would be in your case.”

Robert went on to explain what Mrs. Smithson had told him about Mrs. White's earlier visit to Mr. Kurtz and how downright angry she'd been at the other tailor.

“That's unusual. I've never heard her be critical of anyone. Robert, I hope you convince the people at Grace and Favor to save me from the cabbage stink.”

That evening Robert was right. The same questions he'd asked Howard were asked of the residents and boarders and the maid Mimi.

He waited until after dinner to raise the issue of Howard's moving into Grace and Favor, and had asked Mrs. Prinney and Mimi to delay cleaning up after dinner for a few minutes.

All the women instantly agreed, as he had expected they would. For one thing, Howard Walker was good looking, socially acceptable, and would increase their sense of safety, not that this was terribly important often. It was Mr. Prinney, who raised the questions. "How would he take telephone calls? There's only one extra line, and that's in my home office.”

Robert explained what Howard had said about having his own telephone line.

And would he take all his meals here?" Mr. Prinney asked.

“Probably not," Robert said. "But we don't all eat every meal here. Mrs. Tarkington takes a packed lunch during the school year,
an
d
Phoebe always takes one to work at her hat shop. Chief Walker would probably eat lunch at Mabel's. It's closer to the jail in town, where he spends most of his time.”

The only other decision involved was which room would suit him, and it was decided that it would probably be the one across the hallway from Mrs. Tarkington's. There was a connected bath on one side, and a closet on the other side of that room. And nobody would be bothered by a phone ringing on the second floor from a room next door.

The cost of the room would be decided by Mr. Prinney, in private consultation with Lily and Robert when they found out about Howard's luncheon plans.

Robert was pleased. Aside from Mr. Prinney, he was the only man who lived at Grace and Favor. And as much as he respected and liked Mr. Prinney, they were from different generations and didn't have a lot in common. The estate decisions that needed to be made rested mostly with Lily, who understood them far better than Robert did. It would be swell to have another man near his own age living with them.

CHAPTER FOUR

Thursday, April 20

THE NEXT MORNING, Robert went to the chief of police's office in town and told Howard he'd been unanimously approved to live at Grace and Favor.

“That's swell," Walker said. "I have to admit that I've already packed most of my clothes," he said with a grin.

“Come up first and see the room we've assigned you and make sure you like it.”

They took both their cars, and Robert led Howard up the stairs and opened the door to the room the residents had decided might suit their newest boarder. As Howard walked in he said, "There's lots of light from those windows and it's a bigger room than the two rooms I had at the boardinghouse."

“Sorry it's not a river view," Robert said.


I've lived right by the river and don't need to see it again. It stinks even more than the boardinghouse."

“Here's the bathroom," Robert said, opening a door.

Howard looked more closely and said, "My
own
bathroom? I don't have to share it?" He grinned at Robert. "Worth the price and more. I've been sharing a bathroom with three other men for too long. What's more, one of them must have read a whole magazine every time he was in there. Speaking of price, what's it going to cost
me?”

Robert gave him the price Mrs. Tarkington paid less two dollars. "She has the same sort of space, and a private bath. She gets breakfast, a packed lunch, and dinner. We're charging you a little less than we charge Mrs. Tarkington. She has a river view and likes it and is willing to pay for it."

“It's only two dollars more than what I'm paying now and well worth it. Do I have to pack my own lunch though? I like eating at Mabel's. It's closer to my office."

“No, Mrs. Prinney packs the lunches. But if you prefer to stay in town at lunchtime, we can take another dollar off. Oh, I haven't shown you the closet yet." Robert opened the double doors. The closet was enormous and flanked the main room on the other side.

“That's impressive," Howard said. Almost as big as the second room at the boardinghouse where my office is. By the way, I've talked to the telephone people. They can run a line up here just like Mr. Prinney has for his office in town. And I can have two phones. One in this room and one in the front hall."

“Good idea. If we were all at dinner, you probably wouldn't hear it if it was ringing in your room. Ready to move in?"

“I won't be ready until the phone upstairs and in the hall is installed. The guy said he could do it tomorrow. Will you or Lily be around to show him where they go?"

“We'll both be here. And everybody is looking forward to having you live here."

“So am I," Howard said, shaking Robert's hand.

On Friday, Robert was a bit overeager to get Howard situated. Once the phone was scheduled to be installed the next morning, Robert insisted on helping Howard to haul most of his belongings at the boardinghouse to Grace and Favor. He insisted that the Duesie was much bigger than the chief's police car and they could get everything moved in one trip rather than three.

“You're being very kind, but I don't really need all this help."

BOOK: Who's Sorry Now?
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