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Back Fleeced Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. Acknowledgments
  2. FLEECED
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. 70
  73. 71
  74. 72
  75. 73
  76. 74
  77. 75
  78. 76
  79. 77
  80. 78
  81. 79
  82. 80
  83. 81
  84. About the Author

Clara paused at the door to the master bedroom. “After she died, he wanted to keep everything the same. I’m not surprised it didn’t last if he did take up with someone new.” She then wandered over to the bathroom. “He had this all redone for her.” All of a sudden she gestured wildly with her arm. “That’s what it is, Regan!”

“What?”

“Wendy’s towels are missing!”

“Wendy’s towels?”

“Yes. They always hang on the rack over there.” Clara pointed to the empty rack on the wall. “With the shock of it all yesterday, I didn’t think of it. Nat never used those towels, but he always wanted them there. Occasionally I’d wash them, just so they’d look fresh.”

“Did they have the sheep appliqué on them?” Regan asked.

“Of course.”

“I found one of those appliqués on the floor by the shower,” Regan said.

“They’re very delicate. It must have fallen off.”

So the towels are missing, Regan mused, and one of the appliqués was found by the shower. “Why would someone take the towels the night Nat died?” she asked aloud.

Clara looked befuddled. “And don’t forget, on that night Nat takes a bath, not a shower. That’s what he always took. A shower. Between ten and ten-thirty every night, he told me.”

“So if he did take a shower that night, and whoever came in here wanted to make it look as if he’d slipped in the tub, they would have had to dry off the shower stall in case Nat was found before it dried off by itself. So they grab the towels in a hurry and rub vigorously—”

“And the sheep falls off!” Clara blurted out, finishing Regan’s sentence. “Nat must have been murdered!”

“Clara, you’ve got to keep an eye out for those towels. Whoever took them might have hidden them somewhere in the club.”

“A murderer was here, Regan! A murderer!”

“Clara, we don’t know that.”

“Yes we do. Why else would those towels be missing?”

Good question, Regan thought. “Clara, please don’t call—”

“I’m not calling the crime show. Don’t worry! But I’ll search every inch of this club, looking for those towels.” Clara clutched Regan’s hand. “I want to help you find who did this to Nat. I’m telling you. He made my job easy. The man hated to take a bath!”

57

At New Scotland Yard, Jack was unsuccessful in finding anything that meant anything in the pile of papers, pictures, and maps found in the suspect’s apartment.

His friend Ian finally suggested, “Why don’t we wrap up here and go across to Finnegan’s Wake for some lunch?”

Jack looked at his watch. It was already after two. There was a 6:00 P.M. flight he could catch home. “Sounds good,” he said. I’ll call Regan on my way to the airport, he thought.