and Turnbull & Asser shirts. Look at this.” She held up a shirt with a white collar and pale pink pinstripes.
“Good way to get the homeless hassled by the police,” Phil said. “Why don’t we give the clothes to Out of the Closet? They’re a chain of thrift stores. The proceeds help people with AIDS.”
Six boxes later, the suits and shirts were packed and Phil was emptying Arthur’s underwear drawers.
“Was Arthur a boxers or briefs man?” Helen asked.
“Boxers.” Phil held up a pair of dark blue boxers and read the label: “Hanro Fishbone cotton boxers.”
“He had good taste for an old guy,” Helen said.
“Or a young one,” Phil said.
“Those boxers sell for about seventy-five dollars each,” Helen said.
“I just packed a thousand dollars’ worth of men’s underwear,” Phil said. “They didn’t feel like plain old tightie whities. On to the socks.”
Phil opened a narrow drawer and whistled. “Look at these. Paisley, striped and tartan. Socks with clocks.”
“Beautiful,” Helen said. “Your socks are so plain. You either wear black or white.”
“Reflects my view of the world,” Phil said. “They’re easier to pair if I stick to two colors. Matching up these patterns would make me dizzy.”
“I doubt Arthur did his own laundry,” Helen said. “Did he make his money or inherit it?”
“Blossom told me this is his childhood home, so I guess he came from big bucks and made more,” Phil said. “Hey, look what’s under these paisley socks.”
He lifted out a wedding photo in a mother-of-pearl frame. The groom was a twenty-something Arthur Zerling. The bride wore white satin with shoulder pads and carried a bouquet of honeysuckle.
“I’ll bet she’s Violet’s mother,” Helen said. “Honeysuckle was a pretty thing. She and Arthur made a handsome couple. I wonder why Arthur hid that wedding picture. Did he still love his first wife—or regret his second marriage?”
“Honeysuckle was a major part of his life,” Phil said. “Maybe he didn’t want to hurt Blossom’s feelings by displaying his first wife’s photo.”
Helen opened the top drawer of watches. “They’re all at two o’clock,” she said. “Someone kept these old-fashioned watches wound. Look, Phil, this platinum Rolex Oyster is engraved on theback. It says: To my love on our first anniversary. We have all the time in the world—HZ. That’s so sweet. HZ has to be Honeysuckle. I’m giving this watch to Violet. She should have this memento of her parents.”
“Does Blossom know you’re doing that?” Phil asked, packing more socks into the box.
“She said I could dispose of the watches any way I wished,” Helen said.
“Really?” Phil lifted one eyebrow.
“She never said I couldn’t give that watch to Violet.”
“But you didn’t ask, did you?” Phil said.
“No.” Helen’s eyes shifted away.
“Because you were afraid she’d say no,” Phil said.
“I can’t predict what she’d say,” Helen said, and looked her husband straight in the eye.
“Ever study the spirit versus the letter of the law, Reverend?” Phil asked.
“Didn’t have time,” Helen said. “I was ordained in the click of a mouse.”
“If you give Violet that watch,” he said, “what will you do when she runs and shows it to Blossom?”
“Violet’s not getting the watch until this case is closed,” Helen said. “If we prove Blossom killed her father, it will be her parting gift.”
“And if we don’t?” Phil asked.
“Then it’s a consolation prize,” Helen said.
CHAPTER 13
“A hoy!” Helen called, as she stood at the back of the yacht. Was that the right way to hail a ship’s crew?
From the rear, the Belted Earl was about thirty feet wide and looked like a triple stack of elegant porches. The lowest deck was tea-colored teak with rattan furniture upholstered in the colors of the Caribbean Sea: light blue, azure, turquoise and navy. A clear plastic railing was a shield against the
“Good way to get the homeless hassled by the police,” Phil said. “Why don’t we give the clothes to Out of the Closet? They’re a chain of thrift stores. The proceeds help people with AIDS.”
Six boxes later, the suits and shirts were packed and Phil was emptying Arthur’s underwear drawers.
“Was Arthur a boxers or briefs man?” Helen asked.
“Boxers.” Phil held up a pair of dark blue boxers and read the label: “Hanro Fishbone cotton boxers.”
“He had good taste for an old guy,” Helen said.
“Or a young one,” Phil said.
“Those boxers sell for about seventy-five dollars each,” Helen said.
“I just packed a thousand dollars’ worth of men’s underwear,” Phil said. “They didn’t feel like plain old tightie whities. On to the socks.”
Phil opened a narrow drawer and whistled. “Look at these. Paisley, striped and tartan. Socks with clocks.”
“Beautiful,” Helen said. “Your socks are so plain. You either wear black or white.”
“Reflects my view of the world,” Phil said. “They’re easier to pair if I stick to two colors. Matching up these patterns would make me dizzy.”
“I doubt Arthur did his own laundry,” Helen said. “Did he make his money or inherit it?”
“Blossom told me this is his childhood home, so I guess he came from big bucks and made more,” Phil said. “Hey, look what’s under these paisley socks.”
He lifted out a wedding photo in a mother-of-pearl frame. The groom was a twenty-something Arthur Zerling. The bride wore white satin with shoulder pads and carried a bouquet of honeysuckle.
“I’ll bet she’s Violet’s mother,” Helen said. “Honeysuckle was a pretty thing. She and Arthur made a handsome couple. I wonder why Arthur hid that wedding picture. Did he still love his first wife—or regret his second marriage?”
“Honeysuckle was a major part of his life,” Phil said. “Maybe he didn’t want to hurt Blossom’s feelings by displaying his first wife’s photo.”
Helen opened the top drawer of watches. “They’re all at two o’clock,” she said. “Someone kept these old-fashioned watches wound. Look, Phil, this platinum Rolex Oyster is engraved on theback. It says: To my love on our first anniversary. We have all the time in the world—HZ. That’s so sweet. HZ has to be Honeysuckle. I’m giving this watch to Violet. She should have this memento of her parents.”
“Does Blossom know you’re doing that?” Phil asked, packing more socks into the box.
“She said I could dispose of the watches any way I wished,” Helen said.
“Really?” Phil lifted one eyebrow.
“She never said I couldn’t give that watch to Violet.”
“But you didn’t ask, did you?” Phil said.
“No.” Helen’s eyes shifted away.
“Because you were afraid she’d say no,” Phil said.
“I can’t predict what she’d say,” Helen said, and looked her husband straight in the eye.
“Ever study the spirit versus the letter of the law, Reverend?” Phil asked.
“Didn’t have time,” Helen said. “I was ordained in the click of a mouse.”
“If you give Violet that watch,” he said, “what will you do when she runs and shows it to Blossom?”
“Violet’s not getting the watch until this case is closed,” Helen said. “If we prove Blossom killed her father, it will be her parting gift.”
“And if we don’t?” Phil asked.
“Then it’s a consolation prize,” Helen said.
CHAPTER 13
“A hoy!” Helen called, as she stood at the back of the yacht. Was that the right way to hail a ship’s crew?
From the rear, the Belted Earl was about thirty feet wide and looked like a triple stack of elegant porches. The lowest deck was tea-colored teak with rattan furniture upholstered in the colors of the Caribbean Sea: light blue, azure, turquoise and navy. A clear plastic railing was a shield against the
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