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.Thismaneuver keeps the woman s face towards the occupant.They have these naturalskills. Come in, I said. Have a seat. I& I just wanted to say that the catalog s up to date. She made to perch onthe bed, rose quickly at the implications.I gave her my chair and floppedhorizontal. We only have this evening s list to do.Mrs.Moncreiffe hasproved a godsend. I m glad.Out with it, love. How many more days before& ? Soon. I didn t want to be tied. Michelle.Your son Joseph sent down anoriginal antique, didn t he? Shona sent Robert after it in the Mawdslay,Tachnadray s one car. Yes. Her voice was a whisper. I don t know quite what happened, but Joseph was fetched back.He s hidden atShooters, because he s supposed to have killed that driver.Dispute over themoney, was it? Michelle nodded bravely. They& assumed so. I watched admiringly.Women liewith such conviction. Tough for you, love.Torn loyalty and all that. You re& you re really nothing to do with that London college, are you? No. I pretended anger. Have you been phoning people? No, no.I just& surmise, that s all. She regarded her twisting hands for aPage 80 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlmoment. You re not police.And you talk to things.You re a bit mad, yet& Thank God for that yet I gave her a sincere smile. Don t worry, love.I m on Elaine s side.I ll honestly do the best I can when the time comes. She nodded and stood, watching me. I wish, she got out eventually, we d metunder other circumstances.Better ones. We practically did. I shooed her out. I ve got to think.Do Tinker s callon your own tonight, love. Eleven o clock I went with a krypton handlamp and a small jeweler s loupe tolook at the painting.It had gone.That told me as much as if I d studied itfor a fortnight in Agnew s viewing room.One of the two figures gazing sosoulfully in the painting had been Michelle.The other had been a man slightlyolder, but not Duncan.He d looked in charge, attired in chieftain s dress.Which called for a long think to midnight.To one o clock.To one-thirty.Moredeep thoughts for another hour.Tinker was still swilling at the pub by the old flour mill.I told him tophone Trembler early tomorrow morning and just say, Lovejoy. Right, he croaked, anxious. Here, Lovejoy.When do we come? Antioch keepsasking.There s frigging trucks everywhere Now, I said, throat dry. Roll it, Tinker. I lowered the receiver on hisrelieved cackle.« ^ » 24 Economy s always scared me.Or do I mean economics? Maybe both, if they re notthe same thing.I mean, when you hear that Brazil is a trillion zlotniks inthe red, the average bloke switches off.Mistakes that are beyond one man sown redemption simply go off the scale, as far as I m concerned.Maybe thatwas why I d run from Sidoli s rumble.Plus cowardice, of course.The books I d got from Inverness, paperback reruns, showed Duncan a few morepossibilities.He was hard to persuade. This pedestal sideboard from Loudon s Encyclopaedia of 1833, I told hisdisbelief. Plain as anything, simple.Never mind that architects call itcabinetmaker Gothic Make it? Out of new wood? Out of that. A wardrobe, slanted and damp-warped, leaned tiredly in theworkshop. By suppertime. What about those great pedestals? The design s only like a strut across two bricks, I pointed out. So cutthose old stairs Robert s trying to mend in the east wing.The wood s good.The pieces are almost the right size, for God s sake. We settled that after argument.Two new lads had come to help Duncan,relatives of relatives.One was a motor mechanic, the other a school-leaver.That gave me the idea.Motors mean metal, which means brass rails, which withold stair wood means running sideboards. Make a pair of running sideboards.They re straight in period, Duncan.All itis, three shelves each with a brass rail surround, on a vertical support ateach end
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