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cardigan that she wore frequently. It had a tear in the right pocket. There were several pairs of shoes, two purses carefully wrapped in a plastic cleaning bag, and a small cardboard box full of inexpensive jewelry. On a shelf he found a Bible, and inside he found her birth certificate. She was 49 years old when she died. |
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Inside, on the fly leaf of the gilt-edged book was carefully inscribed: "To Flora Saint Quentin, June 13, 1914. Received into the house of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, on this day of your first Holy Communion." It was signed, "Father Conroy." |
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Slowly and carefully, he put everything back in its place, closed the closet door and glanced around the shadowy room wondering where else to look. He could hear the sound of rain again. The streets were already flooded with a thick, soupy slush, and when the temperature fell again during the long, cold night, the ice would recapture what the warm rains had temporarily set free. |
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He glanced at the old wrought-iron bed and the flounce that concealed the space underneath it. Janet had kept things there; he wondered if by chance Flora Saint Quentin had developed the same habit. |
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And there it wasa battered, leatherette stationery box crammed with the trash and treasures of a lifetime of no particular signifi- |
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