the poor dears could afford. They didn’t have much left over after paying for their care: just a little for personal use, most of which they were honored to give to the dear Minister.
“Flavia must have felt like throwing up,” Kate said without thinking. Georgiana, firm in her breeding, ignored this. Kate saw her into her car, and left, saying she would return soon, and assuring Georgiana that Flavia too would soon be back.
“ BUT HOW DID you know where to look?” I asked Kate when she had returned to New York, bringing Flavia with her. Flavia had thought she owed it to Georgiana to stay on a few days, but Kate wouldn’t hear of it. “You can never be as invisible as all that, not in Georgiana’s house,” Kate said, and to this they all had to agree.
“I began with camera stores,” Kate said. “Flavia hadn’t taken a camera down with her, so she had to have acquired one. Oddly enough, the only place an old lady is noticeable is in a camera store, particularly if she asks for a special kind of camera to do a special kind of thing, money noobject. There were three large camera stores in town, and Flavia turned out to have got her camera in the third, naturally. The young man at the counter remembered her perfectly: Northern, perky, knew exactly what she wanted. He tried to fob her off with an Instamatic, but she wanted a camera with a telephoto lens and great clarity of focus. That wasn’t the way she put it of course; she said she wanted to take pictures from a distance and have them come out well. The man sold her an expensive camera with a telephoto lens and fully expected to have it back on his hands the following day, but he never saw her again. Asked to describe her, he said that she looked like any other old lady, neat, grandmotherly but firm. She paid with cash, which surprised him, but she explained that she was too old to learn to use credit cards.” Kate smiled at this, since she had often seen Flavia use credit cards in restaurants and comment on their usefulness: so much easier to figure out the tip. Flavia had been covering her tracks.
Finding Flavia herself was a little harder, but not much. She had stolen one of Georgiana’s credit cards and one of her suitcases, and simply checked into the town’s largest hotel as Georgiana. Naturally, the police didn’t think of that. They had checked hotel registrations, looking for Flavia’s name, or at least an obviously phony name. They had interviewed the help in all the hotels, but there were far too many old ladies to make further investigation practical. None of them, in any case, were reported as looking the least bit “lost.” When Kate finally tracked her down, Flavia was relieved, but also frightened. “I fear for my life,” she said, “which is rather silly since I had been thinking of flinging it away. That Divine Church has lost millions of dollars because of me, and they may decide not to leave vengeance to the Lord.” Kate agreed with her.
When we were all discussing it later in Kate’s apartment, armed with fortified refreshment, Great Aunt Flavia was full of praise for Kate for finding her and especially for realizing that she had been responsible for the photograph. “You recognized your advice about invisibility, didn’t you, dear?” she said. “How right you were. I loitered around that motel for days, and no one even saw me. People are afraid to speak to old ladies for fear they won’t stop talking, and they aren’t afraid we’re going to be burglars or gunmen. It worked like a charm.”
“That’s all very well,” Kate said, keeping a firm grip on Flavia’s exuberance, “but how did you know he would show up, with or without a prostitute?”
“I saw him with her on the street, and I followed him. They were in a car, but I recognized him when they stopped for a light. They turned into the motel a few yards further on. I suppose he thought he was safely distant from his usual stamping ground. They didn’t
“Flavia must have felt like throwing up,” Kate said without thinking. Georgiana, firm in her breeding, ignored this. Kate saw her into her car, and left, saying she would return soon, and assuring Georgiana that Flavia too would soon be back.
“ BUT HOW DID you know where to look?” I asked Kate when she had returned to New York, bringing Flavia with her. Flavia had thought she owed it to Georgiana to stay on a few days, but Kate wouldn’t hear of it. “You can never be as invisible as all that, not in Georgiana’s house,” Kate said, and to this they all had to agree.
“I began with camera stores,” Kate said. “Flavia hadn’t taken a camera down with her, so she had to have acquired one. Oddly enough, the only place an old lady is noticeable is in a camera store, particularly if she asks for a special kind of camera to do a special kind of thing, money noobject. There were three large camera stores in town, and Flavia turned out to have got her camera in the third, naturally. The young man at the counter remembered her perfectly: Northern, perky, knew exactly what she wanted. He tried to fob her off with an Instamatic, but she wanted a camera with a telephoto lens and great clarity of focus. That wasn’t the way she put it of course; she said she wanted to take pictures from a distance and have them come out well. The man sold her an expensive camera with a telephoto lens and fully expected to have it back on his hands the following day, but he never saw her again. Asked to describe her, he said that she looked like any other old lady, neat, grandmotherly but firm. She paid with cash, which surprised him, but she explained that she was too old to learn to use credit cards.” Kate smiled at this, since she had often seen Flavia use credit cards in restaurants and comment on their usefulness: so much easier to figure out the tip. Flavia had been covering her tracks.
Finding Flavia herself was a little harder, but not much. She had stolen one of Georgiana’s credit cards and one of her suitcases, and simply checked into the town’s largest hotel as Georgiana. Naturally, the police didn’t think of that. They had checked hotel registrations, looking for Flavia’s name, or at least an obviously phony name. They had interviewed the help in all the hotels, but there were far too many old ladies to make further investigation practical. None of them, in any case, were reported as looking the least bit “lost.” When Kate finally tracked her down, Flavia was relieved, but also frightened. “I fear for my life,” she said, “which is rather silly since I had been thinking of flinging it away. That Divine Church has lost millions of dollars because of me, and they may decide not to leave vengeance to the Lord.” Kate agreed with her.
When we were all discussing it later in Kate’s apartment, armed with fortified refreshment, Great Aunt Flavia was full of praise for Kate for finding her and especially for realizing that she had been responsible for the photograph. “You recognized your advice about invisibility, didn’t you, dear?” she said. “How right you were. I loitered around that motel for days, and no one even saw me. People are afraid to speak to old ladies for fear they won’t stop talking, and they aren’t afraid we’re going to be burglars or gunmen. It worked like a charm.”
“That’s all very well,” Kate said, keeping a firm grip on Flavia’s exuberance, “but how did you know he would show up, with or without a prostitute?”
“I saw him with her on the street, and I followed him. They were in a car, but I recognized him when they stopped for a light. They turned into the motel a few yards further on. I suppose he thought he was safely distant from his usual stamping ground. They didn’t
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