“I think that’s best,” Marion said.

“Anyway, Mother,” Derek said, turning toward her, “I’m feeling a little better now. I’m wondering if this would be a good time to discuss the funeral, to make some specific plans.”

Marion glanced at me then back at Derek.

“Of course,” she said. “Much as I hate the thought, I know this is something we need to do.”

Then she stood and took my hand, giving me a meaningful look.

“We’ll speak at breakfast?” she asked and I nodded, knowing I had been dismissed, wondering what she had to tell me that she hadn’t wanted Derek to overhear.

Twelve

No doubt about it, I thought as I sat in my room. I had come to realize there were certain supplies I would need in order to do this job, not the least of which was a fingerprinting kit. The paper bag with the knife and photo was still stashed under the radiator cover, and I left it there as I reached for my phone and dialed the Perskie Detective Agency. Duane was gone for the day, of course, but I left a message in his voice mail, asking if he might be able to supply me with a fingerprinting kit or at least tell me where I could get one.

Once I hung up the phone, I sat back and thought again how odd it felt to be working on a criminal investigation with someone other than my dear friend and mentor Eli Gold.

Eli had been an old police force buddy of my father’s, and when I was a teenager looking for a job more challenging than selling shoes at the local mall, he had suggested I come to work for him. He needed a part-time secretary for his new private investigation firm, and my after-school-and-on-weekend hours seemed to fill the bill. Little had I known when I started the job that it would shape my life and indeed my entire future. As Eli began teaching me the tricks of his trade, I grew to think of him like an old kung fu master or something, filled with an incredible store of knowledge, doling it out carefully as I learned each new lesson. Even my mother, who had objected to the job at first for fear it would be too dangerous for me, slowly came around as she began to see how much I loved it. Over time, Eli began to say that I had a unique gift for the work itself. When I turned 18, he hired another secretary and made me his assistant, and I knew he had hopes that I would take over his business once he retired. My father, on the other hand, wanted me to follow in his footsteps and head to police academy after college. But I had surprised everyone by opting for law school instead, touching off an endless but good-natured debate between them about cops versus private investigators and “who needs more lawyers anyway?”