Dead Reckoning
“The evidence was clear. Claude’s shirt was tossed over the back of a kitchen chair, and Dermot’s shoes were at the foot of the stairs. Plus, after I’d had my coffee and my shower, and emerged from my room in shorts and a green T-shirt, the two were waiting for me in the living room.
“Good morning, guys,” I said. Even to my own ears, I didn’t sound too perky. “Did you remember that today was the day the antiques dealers come? They should be here in an hour or two.” I braced myself for the talk we had to have.
“Good, then this room will not look like a junk shop,” Claude said in his charming way.
I just nodded. Today, we had Obnoxious Claude, as opposed to the more rarely seen Tolerable Claude.
“We did promise you a talk,” Dermot said.
“And then you didn’t come home that night.” I sat back in an old rocker from the attic. I didn’t feel particularly ready for this conversation, but I was also anxious for some answers.
“Things were happening at the club,”
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