“All right. Have fun you two,” she said, laughing before she headed back down the hallway, leaving Ralph and the faint scent of cigarette smoke behind her.
Natalie noticed Liam literally had his lips pressed together to keep from commenting.
Ralph, who must have noticed Liam’s reaction too, laughed. “Go ahead. You can say it. Mildred’s a bitch. I know. Believe me.”
Natalie’s lips twitched but they had more important things to do than talk about Mildred. Now that they’d moved through the open door and into the apartment, they’d be able to see exactly what they were in for.
Somebody had dropped off stacks of empty used cardboard boxes. Maybe someone from the university when they’d come to get the books. Maybe it had been Mildred, though Natalie couldn’t imagine her making the effort.
Either way, there were a lot of boxes. If the number was any indication of the amount of stuff they’d have to haul out of there, Mildred’s stories might be getting interrupted. It was going to take more than an hour to sort and pack it all.
“Ralph, do you think you could come in with us and answer a few questions about Professor Lionel Graves while we’re packing up?” Natalie asked the ghost as Liam disappeared through a doorway in the back of the apartment.
“That stodgy old coot? Sure but I don’t know much. He didn’t talk to the likes of me. Mostly just to complain. The heat was too hot. The sidewalk was icy. The pipes banged too loud. His window was stuck. If a person could complain about it, Lionel Graves did.”
“That sounds like Lionel.” Natalie laughed.
Liam came out of the bedroom, his arms filled with so much clothing he could barely see over the pile.
“Uh oh. Is there a lot in there?” she asked.
“This is it for what was hanging in the closet,” he said, dumping everything into the nearest box.
“That’s not too bad then.”
“Not bad. Just weird.”
“How so?”
“It’s all the same. Or almost the same. Two almost identical jackets. Seven of the same pair of trousers, just in slightly different shades of brown. And ten long-sleeved button-down dress shirts. All white.”
“Didn’t Steve Jobs always wear the exact same outfit? He said it saved him the brain power of making a decision about what to wear every day. So he could think about more important things. Like inventing the iPhone or whatever.”
“As far as I can tell the only thing Lionel Graves uses his brainpower for is being a pain in the ass,” Liam grumbled.
Ralph let out a bark of a laugh. “I like him.”
“I’m going to look for trash bags. We can donate this box of clothes but I’m not touching the stuff in the underwear or sock drawers, or the dozen or so handkerchiefs in there. Those are all getting tossed.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Check for money in those drawers. And in the pockets of that stuff. Oh, and the toes of the shoes,” Ralph called to Liam, who of course couldn’t hear him, before turning to Natalie. “That’s where I used to hide my valuables.”
“Good to know. Thanks.” She moved to check the pockets of the clothes already in the box, which yielded nothing but a sticky old butterscotch candy.
Maybe Liam would have better luck. “Liam, keep an eye out for valuables when you dump those drawers,” she called out. “And Ralph says to make sure to check inside the shoes.”
Liam appeared in the doorway, laden bag in one hand and a man’s fedora in the other. “Apparently, the man only owned one pair of shoes and they were on him when he died. Because there are none in the closet in the bedroom or under the bed. I checked. But look. I found this cool hat.”
Natalie envisioned Lionel’s chronic dandruff and cringed. “Liam, do not put on that hat.”
He pulled his mouth to one side. “You’re no fun.”
“And you don’t know what I do since you’ve never seen Lionel.”
“Fine. I’m hitting the bathroom next. I’m assuming any toiletries and towels can get tossed.”
“No, to tossing the towels. Animal shelters can use them. We can donate those. But yes to the toiletries. And all those vitamin bottles I spotted on the kitchen counter too,” Natalie added as she flipped sofa cushions making sure there was nothing important underneath.
