her, you’ll understand. Right after they were married, she ordered that thing from England. Never said a word to Peter until it was here and was hung. So he admires it, opens it, closes it. He finds out the damn thing is something like 250 years old. So he asks how much it is. Alicia tells him and he can’t believe she did it. He told her it had to go back.”
“Which it obviously did not.”
“That door cost $20,000 in 1964,” said Osborne. “Can you imagine spending that kind of money on a door?”
“Guess we know who’s boss in that family.” said Lew. “She seemed to think she was running the investigation for awhile there tonight.”
“I’ll tell ya,” said Osborne turning to Lew and shaking his head, “I know more about antique radios thanks to that go-dawful woman—”
“Now why’s that?” Lew glanced at him, “what on earth are you talking about?”
“Peter Roderick. He’s got this antique radio fetish—he drives hundreds of miles to find them. And if you have the misfortune to sit near him at a dinner party or the fish fry at the Pub, you will hear every detail. Which I have.
“Actually,” Osborne raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, “I have done so on purpose, Lew. You feel so sorry for the poor guy—the way Alicia takes him apart in public.
“I’m not the only one. A number of us go out of our way to listen to the man, strictly out of sympathy. He’s good-hearted, but brother can he be a bore. There are times, I tell ya, when I’ve been fishing with the guy, I’ve been desperate to get out of the boat. Between the minutae of the radios and those crazed dogs of his—”
“Say, Doc. What about the dogs? Where were they tonight?”
Osborne looked at Lew. “Good question. Now that’s odd, Lew. If Alicia’s so worried about someone breaking in? Why doesn’t she have the dogs around?”
“Back to Peter, Doc. So all these years he’s taken all this abuse? Been humiliated in front of his friends? Why would a guy do that? Why wouldn’t he just walk out?”
“Those of us who know Peter have speculated on exactly that issue for years, Chief,” said Osborne. “To the point that the one time he stood his ground, we gave a party. We all went out to Rick French’s deer shack for some poker to celebrate.”
“Really,” said Lew.
“Did you notice that mirror in the living room?” asked Osborne.
“You mean the mirrored wall,” corrected Lew.
“We call it Peter’s Revenge,” said Osborne. “Everyone knows it came out of an old brothel up in St. Germaine. He picked it up for about twenty bucks at the auction when they tore the place down, then he forced Alicia to hang it in the living room. Absolutely put his foot down. She fumed over that for years.”
“I’m starting to wonder if someone murdered the wrong sister.”
Lew angled the cruiser into a parking spot beside Osborne’s station wagon. It was still dark, not quite 4 A.M. They opened their doors and got out.
Osborne fished his car keys out of his pocket and had turned towards his car when Lew’s soft voice stopped him. She stood behind his car, her briefcase swinging in her left hand.
“So, Doc,” she said, “I think it’s time we go home and get ready for bed, don’t you? I don’t know what your plans are. I thought I’d put on a little make-up, my best nightie, some hair-spray. Whadda think?”
Osborne stood in stunned silence, his car key in his hand. What on earth? Then the note of irony in her voice registered. “Lew. You’re right. I thought Alicia was looking pretty good tonight. It never occurred to me—”
“Of course not, Doc. It takes a woman’s eye.” Lew leaned back against the cruiser, cradling her briefcase in her arms. “When I followed her back to the kitchen, I could see she had that wine bottle with two glasses and the cheese and crackers already set out. She wasn’t happy that I walked in on her either.”
“Just who do you think she was
“Which it obviously did not.”
“That door cost $20,000 in 1964,” said Osborne. “Can you imagine spending that kind of money on a door?”
“Guess we know who’s boss in that family.” said Lew. “She seemed to think she was running the investigation for awhile there tonight.”
“I’ll tell ya,” said Osborne turning to Lew and shaking his head, “I know more about antique radios thanks to that go-dawful woman—”
“Now why’s that?” Lew glanced at him, “what on earth are you talking about?”
“Peter Roderick. He’s got this antique radio fetish—he drives hundreds of miles to find them. And if you have the misfortune to sit near him at a dinner party or the fish fry at the Pub, you will hear every detail. Which I have.
“Actually,” Osborne raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, “I have done so on purpose, Lew. You feel so sorry for the poor guy—the way Alicia takes him apart in public.
“I’m not the only one. A number of us go out of our way to listen to the man, strictly out of sympathy. He’s good-hearted, but brother can he be a bore. There are times, I tell ya, when I’ve been fishing with the guy, I’ve been desperate to get out of the boat. Between the minutae of the radios and those crazed dogs of his—”
“Say, Doc. What about the dogs? Where were they tonight?”
Osborne looked at Lew. “Good question. Now that’s odd, Lew. If Alicia’s so worried about someone breaking in? Why doesn’t she have the dogs around?”
“Back to Peter, Doc. So all these years he’s taken all this abuse? Been humiliated in front of his friends? Why would a guy do that? Why wouldn’t he just walk out?”
“Those of us who know Peter have speculated on exactly that issue for years, Chief,” said Osborne. “To the point that the one time he stood his ground, we gave a party. We all went out to Rick French’s deer shack for some poker to celebrate.”
“Really,” said Lew.
“Did you notice that mirror in the living room?” asked Osborne.
“You mean the mirrored wall,” corrected Lew.
“We call it Peter’s Revenge,” said Osborne. “Everyone knows it came out of an old brothel up in St. Germaine. He picked it up for about twenty bucks at the auction when they tore the place down, then he forced Alicia to hang it in the living room. Absolutely put his foot down. She fumed over that for years.”
“I’m starting to wonder if someone murdered the wrong sister.”
Lew angled the cruiser into a parking spot beside Osborne’s station wagon. It was still dark, not quite 4 A.M. They opened their doors and got out.
Osborne fished his car keys out of his pocket and had turned towards his car when Lew’s soft voice stopped him. She stood behind his car, her briefcase swinging in her left hand.
“So, Doc,” she said, “I think it’s time we go home and get ready for bed, don’t you? I don’t know what your plans are. I thought I’d put on a little make-up, my best nightie, some hair-spray. Whadda think?”
Osborne stood in stunned silence, his car key in his hand. What on earth? Then the note of irony in her voice registered. “Lew. You’re right. I thought Alicia was looking pretty good tonight. It never occurred to me—”
“Of course not, Doc. It takes a woman’s eye.” Lew leaned back against the cruiser, cradling her briefcase in her arms. “When I followed her back to the kitchen, I could see she had that wine bottle with two glasses and the cheese and crackers already set out. She wasn’t happy that I walked in on her either.”
“Just who do you think she was
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