Footsteps went by outside, the telephone rang, voices rose and fell in conversation. A man laughed, full out, as if he’d heard the funniest joke ever. Manfred had the sense that life flowed all around them, that they were on an island in the middle of a stream. It was curiously comfortable and personal.

“I have to worry about the jewelry?” Manfred said.

Arthur spread his hands. “Lewis is acting so irrational that the Bonnet Park police hate to deal with him. But they have to take what he says seriously. And the jewelry is not in the house. There are six pieces that aren’t accounted for. They’re insured for quite a large amount.”

“As I told the cops there, she told me she hid the jewelry from Lewis.”

“As he told the cops there, she was carrying it in her purse and you stole it while she died. He said versus he said.”

“They searched the room. They searched my luggage. They searched her purse. They searched her poor old body, I’m sure.”

Arthur patted the air to tell Manfred to calm down. “Until it shows up, you need to be concerned. I wish you had a recording of Mrs. Goldthorpe saying those words.” He stood up. “I’m sorry, Manfred, but they’re bringing in a suspect in those convenience store robberies. I’ve got to question him.”

“Sure, and thanks for the good news.” It just wasn’t good enough. Manfred hoped his talk with Olivia and Barry today was productive. He was ready to feel free again.

29

To Manfred’s astonishment, he had a guest when he returned from Davy. And she was as mad as anyone he’d ever seen. Magdalena Powell pulled up in her car just as he got out of his, and Olivia (with perfect timing) came out of the side door of the pawnshop and walked across the dry brown lawn.

Magdalena shot out of her car and launched right in. “Forging my letterhead to send a bogus letter from me! Don’t deny it. I’m seriously considering bringing a case against you. You’d never get out of jail once I got through with you.”

“Hello, Ms. Powell,” Manfred said, spreading a big dollop of calm all over his voice. “Before you get any more upset, let me tell you the circumstances.”

“Ms. Powell, I have to confess,” Olivia said, her voice so charming that Manfred turned to her with his mouth hanging open. “It wasn’t Manfred. It was me.”

It was hard to say who was more astonished by Olivia’s confession.

“And you are?”