We were outside now. Mr. Stark, too, had disappeared; presumably into the bowels of the building with the others. “Even with the laundry,” Mrs. Stark said, “I think we have the better part of the deal. So the landlord doesn’t clean the front hall at all?”
“Well, he does,” I said, “at times, or rather, he sends a woman to do it. But when she does come, it is with the mop with the dirty strings, and a bucket of water that is soon equally dirty. How can one get a floor clean like this? A floor that many people have walked on?”
“Impossible,” Mrs. Stark said. “Now, which is your bank?”
What a strange and oddly festive group met us on our return! Mr. Stark and Mr. Penderleigh, slightly damp but fortunately not dirty, were washing dishes at the sink. Fred was coming out of the shower, his hair sticking up all over his head. He was dressed in some of Joe’s clothing, the sleeves and trouser legs too short by a good two inches. Joe was dressed in only a towel wrapped around his middle. “Whoops,” he said. “Sorry, Mom.” And grinned.
“Nonsense,” she said. “I diapered your bottom. Go take a shower. You smell terrible.”
“First,” I said, “it worked?”
Fred threw out an expansive arm. “Behold the conquering heroes. It was a four-man effort, but your drains flow free once more. It was the Air Corps magic.”
“I believe,” Mr. Penderleigh said, “that it was the Royal Navy’s magic. Lieutenant, HMSDuke of York.”He pronounced it “Lef-tenant,” in the British way. “Critical to keep the heads working, don’t you know, and I picked up the odd bit ofknowledge here and there before going back to the antiquities trade. All part of the service.” He held up a hand. “First, fix the drains. Second, do the washing-up. Third, down to business.” He counted off on his fingers and smiled most charmingly.
“But you’ve all been so clever,” I said. “This morning, I couldn’t think what was to be done, and here you’ve solved it! Joe, go take your shower now.”
“I’ll help you take the wet stuff to the launderette later,” Joe said. “I’m telling you that so you don’t head down there while I’m in the shower.”
“But your mother has already most kindly offered,” I said, “and with the car, too. Although we must wrap the things up very well so the car doesn’t begin to smell, for that would be poor repayment of her generosity. But yes, my heart is most light. Look, even my dishes are being washed by others!”
“Shower,” Joe said, and went into the bathroom.
When the last dish was dried and the dishtowel hung up neatly—I was ready to believe that the Royal Navy trained its men well—I said, “Now I’ll make us coffee, and we’ll be ready to be businesslike.”
“That’s my cue to leave, I think,” Fred said.
“But you must haveKaffee und Kuchen,”I said, measuring coffee into the percolator, “after all your hard and very dirty work. I’ve made a most delicious plum cake—fortunately, I did this yesterday morning, before it became so hot.”
Fred hesitated, then said, “I gather this is about some fabulous jewel that you’re selling. You may want privacy for that.”
“Oh, no,” I said. “It is quite a simple matter, merely showing Mr. Penderleigh a necklace of mine.”
Mr. Penderleigh gave a discreet cough and said, “It can be a bit delicate, discussing financial matters and all that, don’t you know.”
“Yep,” Fred said. “I won’t wait for the heave-ho.” He looked down at himself. “I’ll bring Joe’s clothes back tonight, when Icome to take Susie out. A second shower probably wouldn’t come amiss, either.”
“All right,” I said. “But you must take someKuchen.”I wrapped it up in waxed paper—I too had now mastered the complicated folds—and Fred bowed most comically and said, “Your servant, madame,” before sweeping grandly out the door.
“You’re wondering,” Mr. Penderleigh said, when we were seated around the table—Joe had brought in the chair from his desk—and eating myPflaumenkuchen,which was merely a moist yellow cake with plums and a Streusel topping, but really very delicious, “why I’ve sprung myself on you, as they say.”
“I assume you had an unexpected gap in your schedule,” I said.
“That’s it exactly,” he said. “Terribly informal and unbusinesslike of me, but California does have that effect. I feel quite as if I were on vacation when I’m here. I’d been corresponding with Mr. Stark—Mr. Stark the elder—and we’d set a date for Monday—I assume you knew that?”
“Yes,” I said. For some reason, my heart was beating rather hard. “But …”
“But,”Mr. Penderleigh said, “the old lady I was supposed to see today ended up in the hospital—a bad fall, it seems—and, well, Iamquite eager to get a look at this necklace. Your father-in-law couldn’t raise you on the telephone, but I said, why not throw caution to the wind and come along anyway? It’s a perfect day for a drive. I’ve brought my satchel, you see—” He held it up, “with its secure lock, so if we come to an agreement, I can take the necklace away with me. But first, ofcourse, I’d like to examine it.” He removed a pair of spectacles and a jeweler’s loupe from his breast pocket. “If you would?”
I said, “Yes.” Rather slowly. And didn’t go into the bedroom for the velvet bag I’d placed there. “It’s only that?—”
“Is there a problem, dear?” Mrs. Stark asked.
“Pardon me,” I said, “but I believe that I must first discuss this with my husband. And Mr. Stark, if you would be so good? Perhaps, Mrs. Stark, you will take Mr. Penderleigh to the courtyard behind the house? It’s shady there in the afternoon, and rather pleasant.”
“Is there something else you need from me?” Mr. Penderleigh asked, still smiling. “My card, perhaps?”
“Yes, thank you,” I said, receiving the bit of white pasteboard with its copperplate engraving. “But if I could have a few minutes.”
