MBDD Except 4.1

      While I'm waiting for Mikey to get home from church -- he and his papa attend a different church than I do -- I thought I'd post another MBDD excerpt. I'll try to post another one this evening after the miniature fireball has returned home. Hope you enjoy this. Agatha's will gets read, and there are several surprises.

Excerpt 4.1 from Murder by Dewey Decimal.
Copyright 2007. All rights reserved.

Chapter 4.1

      The peach trees never seemed tall enough to the chief. Although he knew the semi-dwarf Harvesters and Loring Stark Brother varieties were designed to be ten to twelve feet tall, they looked like overgrown bushes which shouldn't produce anything but their crescent-shaped leaves. But the trees' branches sagged gently with pastel-colored peaches in lush abundance. He smiled as he regarded the fruit. They'll be ready to pick in a couple more weeks, he thought.
      He walked over to the irrigation pump and connected the main water line which branched into several smaller pipes. Each pipe ran down a row of trees and had an emitter at each tree. Peaches required a lot of water. The chief started the pump. Its chug-lug faded in the background as he headed back to his car to sit while the pump pulled water from the well for the thirsty trees.
      Although it was only the middle of May, the sun soon made the car uncomfortably warm. He got out and started walking the rows, something that he had done a lot lately, trying to make sense of Agatha's murder. Brewer's murder was easier to find a motive for; he'd simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
      It had been nearly a week since the deaths, and the chief attended Agatha's funeral this morning. Few people showed up; only Bernard, Lisa, Richard Storer, Mayor Brunson, a couple of councilmen, the chief and Maggie, and a handful of elderly ladies who seemed to show up at all the funerals of people of their generation. The funeral had depressed the chief as it seemed to reemphasize that he was no closer to catching Agatha's killer.
      Once again he went over the few facts he had. The same person or persons had killed both Agatha and Leonard. That was established; the forensic report said the same weapon had killed them both. No motive yet for Agatha's murder. But, apparently Brewer was killed because he had seen the murderer while changing his flat tire. And Lisa had been attacked because the killer was afraid she would be able to identify him.
      And more the pity, Lisa had been too drunk or simply didn't get a look at him to remember. Sims had even convinced the chief to have Lisa hypnotized by that dentist who used it for "painless" tooth surgery. She remembered nothing of value.
      After some thought, the chief released the fact that Lisa could not identify the man. He hoped the murderer would realize that he was safe and not attack her again. So far it seemed to be having the desired effect. The chief was still having her house watched; it never hurt to be safe.
      Jay Jones, the janitor, remained missing. The chief wished he could believe Jones killed Agatha and then ran when his attempt to kill Lisa failed, but he couldn't. And even if Jones had killed Agatha, too many questions remained. Why would he and Agatha be meeting in the middle of the night? What was in the safe? Why would Jones carry the body upstairs?
      The chief sighed. He couldn't find any answers. He had gone through Agatha's house thoroughly and discovered nothing. Same for the janitor's apartment. He had read the coroner's reports until he could recite them. He had questioned Bernard and Lisa until they dodged him on the street.
      Bernard and Lisa. Now, there's an interesting couple, the chief thought. Bernard had visited Lisa at least twice every day she had been in the hospital, and when she got out the day before yesterday, he'd been the one to drive her home. Last night, Sims saw them at The Senor restaurant and said they were holding hands and "makin' eyes" at each other. The chief hoped Lisa had finally found someone who would treat her decently. She hadn't had an easy life, and it would be nice if one good thing came out of this awful mess.
      The chief looked at his watch. He'd better head for the house. Agatha's will was to be read today at one, and the chief intended to be there. He thought it would probably be a waste of time, but right now, he was clutching at straws.
      And maybe being here isn't such a bad idea, after all, the chief thought as he surveyed the people assembled in Harold Hastings's office to hear the attorney read Agatha's will in his quiet and too sincere voice.
      Bernard sat on the leather-bound sofa, talking quietly to Lisa who was taking notes on an yellow spiral pad and looking around like a dog sitting under a barbecue grill. In a chair across from him was Richard Storer, looking uncomfortable and tired. Neal Gibson, on the other hand, looked relaxed and jovial as he sat chatting with Jimmy Fedler, vice-president of the First National Bank of Ryton. Hastings was at his desk, ostentatiously going through some legal papers.
      The intercom buzzed, and Hastings picked up the phone.
      “Yes?" He listened for a moment and then said, "Send her in." He replaced the phone on its cradle with the slow, deliberate speed that so grated on the chief's nerves.
      The chief looked at the door as it opened, and a woman stepped in. She was wearing a plain white dress that emphasized her extreme thinness. A large white hair barrette firmly held her white hair. White hose, white shoes, and a large white leather-look purse completed the monochromatic outfit.
      "Evelyn!" Richard Storer rose.
      "Rich." The woman nodded in acknowledgment, glancing around the room.
      "Come in, Miss Ryton," Hastings said. "This is Evelyn Ryton, Mrs. Ryton-Storer's sister." He introduced everyone else in the room. The chief noticed her eyes seemed to linger on his badge when he was introduced.
      "Evelyn, I tried to get in touch with you, but you'd moved." Storer said. He looked even more uncomfortable.
      Evelyn nodded. "Yes, I moved to Tulsa about six years ago. I saw no reason to update you."
      "Miss Ryton contacted me yesterday," Hastings said. "Very fortunate since we were already seeking her regarding the will. Now that we're all here, shall we get started."
      The chief squashed an impulse to say no.
      "Mrs. Ryton-Storer recorded her last wishes in a legally prepared will and on this cassette." The lawyer held up a tape cassette which he placed in a player. “While the recorded
version is not in the proper legal form, the will is. If everyone is ready ..." He pushed a button, and Agatha's sharp tones filled the office.
      "I, Agatha Wilhelmina Ryton-Storer, being of sounder mind than most and certainly more sensible, do order my goods, wealth and property to be disposed in the following manner:
      "To Richard Storer, I leave all the photo albums and pictures of his brother and also any of my books he might desire. We have been through harsh times together, and I hope his life is better for having seen how bravely I have held myself during these many long years of adversity and pain."
      "I can't believe it," Richard Storer muttered.
      "To my sister Evelyn, I leave our mother's brooch. Mother would have wanted me to have it, and I had intended to be buried with it, but since Evelyn stole all the other jewelry, she should also have this piece. It may be the very first thing she's ever received without committing theft. And, Evelyn, he would have come back to me."
      Evelyn Ryton simply shook her head and looked at the floor.
      "My other belongings, goods and property are to be sold by the Gibson Auction service. The money received from the sale and the rest of my financial securities are to be given to the Ryton Memorial Library on the condition that it be renamed in my honor, The Agatha Wilhelmina Ryton-Storer Memorial Library, a fitting tribute for my years of long and faithful service."
      Bernard looked pole-axed while Lisa scribbled frantic notes.
      "I name Harold Hastings of the law firm, Hastings and Simmons, as executor of this will."
      Hastings switched off the player and picked up some papers.
      “These are copies of the will," he said as he passed them out. "I will be happy to answer any questions."
      "No, thank you," Evelyn Ryton said, rising. "All of this is perfectly clear. She only placed me in the will so that she could have one more chance to attack me. Sell the brooch, too." She turned to leave. The chief rose.
      "Miss Ryton, I would like to talk with you if you don't mind," the chief said.
      Evelyn looked at him for a long moment. "I have some other calls to make today. Perhaps we could talk tomorrow."
      The chief didn't like the way she made her last statement sound like a order but decided not to press it. "That would be fine. Would around ten in the morning be okay?"
      "Yes," she said. "I'm staying at the Eagle Inn." She left, her heels clicking a staccato rhythm.
      "I don't have any questions," Richard Storer said hastily and followed Evelyn out.
      The chief could hear him calling after Evelyn. I wonder what they have to talk about, the chief mused.
      Neal Gibson was talking to Hastings, and from the gist of the conversation, Gibson was being hired to appraise and auction Agatha's house and contents. Gibson seemed to find the whole will immensely funny and was chuckling as he left.
      Bernard, however, was not laughing. "Mr. Hastings, I would have to consult with the City Council about this, but I don't see any way they would agree to rename the library."
      "Mrs. Ryton-Storer and I anticipated your response," Hastings said. "But, I think when you have all the facts, you might reconsider. I asked Mr. Fedler here as Agatha banked with First National. Jimmy, if you would give Mr. Worthington a financial report on the estate now."
      "Well," Fedler said, opening a briefcase and pulling out a sheaf of papers, "I prepared this for you." He handed the papers to Bernard. "Of course, you must understand that much of Mrs. Ryton-Storer's monies are in certificates of deposit, bonds and other investments of that nature, some of which have not reached maturation. She was extremely conservative in all of her financial dealings--"
      Hastings cut in. "Perhaps Mr. Worthington would be more interested in the value of her investments."
      Fedler looked annoyed. "He should also be made aware that some of the investments are not fully realized as of yet and that it would be in the library's best financial interest if care was taken in handling the estate."
      Now, this is interesting, the chief thought. It appeared to him that Fedler was worried that the library might want all of Agatha's money immediately. Just how much did she have, anyway?
      "Mr. Fedler, exactly how much money are we talking about?" Bernard asked.
      "Actually, it's impossible to say exactly," Fedler said. "As I was saying, many of her investments have not been realized fully in the way of financial--"
      "Your best estimate would be fine," Bernard said.
      "Well, at the moment, at our bank ..." Fedler wiped his brow. Bernard leaned forward as did the chief. Hastings was leaning back with a vaguely superior smile while Lisa's pen hovered over her notebook like an eagle over prey.
      And then Jimmy Fedler told them how much money the late Agatha Ryton-Storer had in the First National Bank of Ryton.
      The chief broke the silence first. "Well, I'll be dipped in vinegar. She was a millionaire!"

End excerpt. Copyright 2007. All rights reserved. No copying or downloading without express written permission.