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to get the margarita glass.
Clara took her daughter s hand in her own.  Oh, honey.
How awful! No wonder you look so pale. She paused.
 Was he old? Do you think he had a heart attack or some­
thing? Without waiting for an answer, she continued.
 Poor thing. Still, she looked around and smiled,  it s quite
a tranquil place to die. Not a bad view if it s the last one
you re going to see. Just look at those orchids over there.
Gorgeous little things, aren t they? And do you smell that
mint? It s so 
 Ma! Molly was exasperated. Shaking Clara s hand
away, she pointed in the direction of the body.  You knew
the dead man!
Clara s gaze slid away from the orchids and fixed upon
the verdant area Molly indicated with a shaky finger.  Oh,
she said softly and then,  Who is it?
 You can t see him from here, Molly assured her gen­
tly.  But it s Tom Barnett.
The medical examiner was first to arrive on the scene. He
was a stocky man with a square jaw and unruly ash blond
hair. He introduced himself to the manager as Berkley Butler,
A Deadly Dealer 51
politely declined Mr. Fallon s offer of coffee, and asked to be
shown the body. The gardener mutely beckoned for him to
follow her but Berkley began to speak in Spanish and the two
exchanged words until they passed out of sight to the place
where Tom lay.
Ten minutes later, a carbon copy of Berkley arrived and
introduced himself to the slack-jawed Mr. Fallon as Detec­
tive Reginald Butler. The only dissimilarity between the
twin brothers was the detective s military-style buzz and
the intensity of his gaze. After disappearing in the direc­
tion Berkley had taken, Detective Butler reemerged mo­
ments later and headed directly toward Molly.
 Good morning, ma am. He shook hands with surpris­
ing gentleness. After waiting for Clara to introduce herself
he handed Molly a business card.  I m Detective Butler of
Nashville P.D. I understand you were the one to find the
deceased. Is that correct?
 Yes, Molly answered.  At about twenty after seven.
The detective stared at her unblinkingly.  And how did
you come to be so far off the beaten path at such an early
time in the morning, if I may use a cliché?
After offering the details of their broken coffeemaker
and her sojourn for free coffee, Molly gestured at the
margarita glass and explained how she had sought to re­
trieve it.
 Has anyone else handled the glass? the detective
asked.  After you picked it up?
 No.
Butler drew a small notebook out of his jacket pocket.
 And I understand you were able to identify the deceased.
Could you tell me the nature of your relationship?
Molly paused, trying to figure out how to verbalize her
recent acquaintance with Tom Barnett. Clara filled the mo­
mentary silence by explaining how she had known Tom.
 So he s an antique dealer. Butler scribbled in his pad.
 Here for the Heart of Dixie Show?
52 J. B. Stanley
 That s right, Clara replied.
Butler sighed.  This is my uncle Geordie s biggest
event. He s not going to be pleased with any hitches this
weekend. He rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully.
 What else can you two tell me about Tom s behavior last
night? Did anything strike you as unusual?
Clara and Molly exchanged quick glances.
 Lots! Clara said dramatically.  But why are you ask­
ing about his behavior? Doesn t the man in the bushes
the one who looks just like you know how Tom died?
Detective Butler scowled.  It s for me to ask you the
questions, ma am, and these questions are strictly routine.
He gesticulated with impatience toward the garden bed,
where his twin worked.  Don t be concerned about my
brother, Berkley. He s the finest medical examiner in all
of Tennessee. He ll find out exactly how your friend died
in a compassionate and expedient manner, but sometimes
he can t tell simply by looking at a person. This is one of
those times. His tone invited no argument or additional
questions.
 I ll go over last night s events, Ma, Molly jumped in
quickly before her mother could ruffle the detective s
feathers any further.  You just chime in if I miss anything
important.
 Hrrmph. Clara began to sulk and then immediately
perked up at the sight of Fallon collecting a tray from a
waiter who stood like an obedient dog on the far side of the
maintenance tape. The tray bore a pot of coffee, three mugs,
cream, and a plate of assorted rolls and Danishes along with
butter and a jar of blackberry jam.
Clara poured coffee for all three of them and then but­
tered a croissant baked to a golden brown. Molly began her
narrative of the previous night s events while eating small
bites of an apple turnover. Detective Butler sipped his cof­
fee and took notes in his pad. Two cups of coffee later,
Molly had reached the part in the account when she and
A Deadly Dealer 53
Clara had visited Tom Barnett s booth toward the end of
the evening.
When the Appleby women first stepped into the large
booth space crowned by a wooden sign entitled the
country doctor, Molly had trouble absorbing Tom s
disorganized displays. Antique surgery cases were scattered
about on every available table surface among apothecary
bottles and cases, leather-bound anatomy books, several
yellowed casts of human skulls, and a full-sized skeleton
wearing a Confederate officer s uniform. Dozens of canes
were gathered haphazardly and stuffed into three umbrella
stands.
A cane with a carved skull handle and a carved snake
winding its way up the shaft intrigued Molly. She read the
attached label with interest:
Unusual Physician s System Stick. Late nine­
teenth century. Malacca shaft with carved snake.
Skull handle made of bone, which unscrews to
reveal hidden pomander jar so that the doctor
could inhale a pleasant odor when faced with a
noxious-smelling patient. Pomander jar lifts up
to reveal two vials (both original with stoppers
intact). The first contains laudanum (label miss­
ing) and the second, morphine pills. Beneath
vials is glass flask that once contained whiskey.
Missing stopper. Slight crack to the base of the
skull. Ferrule is missing. $750
Molly examined the cane with great interest. She
twisted off the skull and carefully removed the pomander
jar. It was empty and held no trace of scent. One of the
vials beneath it still read Morphine Pills in neat black
script. The unlabeled whiskey flask looked like a modern
54 J. B. Stanley
test tube. She examined the damage to the skull and ad­
mired the carving of the snake. She made a mental note to
talk to Tom further about the cane. It would make a perfect
Christmas gift for Mark. Picking up several of the other
physician s canes and walking sticks, Molly noticed that
many of them had yet to be priced. As she made her way
around the booth, it was clear that many of the smalls and
several pieces of furniture had never been labeled or priced.
Molly paused to ogle a jar filled with glass prosthetic
eyeballs marked at thirty dollars apiece, when a frumpy-
looking woman with a round face and rosacea-reddened [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]