in two lengthwise.
That way I can get to it without a problem.”
Jack’s face paled. He took a hasty step backward and
placed his right arm over his cast protectively. “No way. No
cutting. Absolutely not.”
I was truly puzzled now. I had no idea he had become attached so quickly to his father’s restorations. With a sigh,
I shook my head. “Those are the cheap ways to go. The best
costs more”
“I don’t know about you, old friend,” he said, sarcasm
oozing from his words as he glanced at his cast, “but I’d pay
whatever is necessary to keep it.”
“Yeah, but it’s extreme, although it’s probably the best
way.”
“So? What is it? It has to be better than either of those first
two remedies.”
“Well, the best solution is simply to yank it off the body
and replace it with a new one”
Jack gaped at me. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
I just stared at him. “No.”
His voice filled with disbelief, he stammered. “Th-the
arm?”
He had me confused now. “Yeah. The arm. He said the
new ones made out of plastic would last a lifetime.”
Eyes wide, Jack backed away. “You’re not cutting off my
arm or slushing anything around in the cast. No way.”
I had the feeling I’d just stepped into the old “Twilight
Zone” Then it hit me. “You mean-” I pointed to the receiver. “You thought that-” I couldn’t finish my question
because -I was laughing so hard.
Poor Jack, he just stood there with a puzzled and confused
expression on his face. When I managed to catch my breath,
I explained that I was not talking to a medical doctor, but to
Doc Raines about the gas tank and wiper arm on the Model
T Runabout.
“And not my arm?”
“No, Jack. Not your arm”
With an embarrassed grin, he sighed, then grimaced. “I
gotta find something to stop this blasted itching.” He turned
on his heel. “I’ll be right back.”
Jack returned moments later with a fly swatter sticking out
of his cast. “It’s better than nothing,” he said, busily sliding
it in and out.
Nodding to a nearby chair, I said, “We need to talk.”
He plopped down. “Make it fast. My arm’s driving me
nuts.”
Despite the complaining I’ve done about him, Jack was a
good friend, and I was reluctant to upset him, but if I was to
continue my investigation, I had to be honest with him.
“Jack. I’ve something to tell you. After you hear what I have
to say, you decide if you want me to continue the investigation or not.”
He frowned, puzzled. “I don’t follow you.”
I took a deep breath. “It could very well be that one,
maybe all of your brothers and your sister are responsible
for the death of your father.”
He grimaced as if I’d kicked him in the stomach. “Are-are
you sure?”
“No. I’m not sure of anything, but it appears that’s the
direction we’re heading.”
“Did you find anything in John’s files that makes you
think that?” He gestured to the file cabinet.
“Not much other than he loaned WR and Stewart a lot of
money they never paid back.”
Jack chuckled. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” He
paused. “Do you think you can find any evidence that will
tell you who killed John?”
“There’s always evidence. The trick is not only finding it,
but then also interpreting it correctly.” I nodded. “It’s there.
It’ll just take time to uncover it. I’m telling you all of this
because it’s time your family knows what I’m doing.”
“They’ll be mad knowing you suspect them”
“They can take it up with the police chief. He gave me his
blessing to investigate your father’s death” I paused.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Do I go on? It’s up to you, Jack. If you want to drop it
now, just say so” I had mixed feelings. I hated to see deliberate injury against another go unpunished, yet if my suspi cions proved true, Jack would be hurt. Conscience or friendship. Heck of a choice. I knew what I would do, but I
That way I can get to it without a problem.”
Jack’s face paled. He took a hasty step backward and
placed his right arm over his cast protectively. “No way. No
cutting. Absolutely not.”
I was truly puzzled now. I had no idea he had become attached so quickly to his father’s restorations. With a sigh,
I shook my head. “Those are the cheap ways to go. The best
costs more”
“I don’t know about you, old friend,” he said, sarcasm
oozing from his words as he glanced at his cast, “but I’d pay
whatever is necessary to keep it.”
“Yeah, but it’s extreme, although it’s probably the best
way.”
“So? What is it? It has to be better than either of those first
two remedies.”
“Well, the best solution is simply to yank it off the body
and replace it with a new one”
Jack gaped at me. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
I just stared at him. “No.”
His voice filled with disbelief, he stammered. “Th-the
arm?”
He had me confused now. “Yeah. The arm. He said the
new ones made out of plastic would last a lifetime.”
Eyes wide, Jack backed away. “You’re not cutting off my
arm or slushing anything around in the cast. No way.”
I had the feeling I’d just stepped into the old “Twilight
Zone” Then it hit me. “You mean-” I pointed to the receiver. “You thought that-” I couldn’t finish my question
because -I was laughing so hard.
Poor Jack, he just stood there with a puzzled and confused
expression on his face. When I managed to catch my breath,
I explained that I was not talking to a medical doctor, but to
Doc Raines about the gas tank and wiper arm on the Model
T Runabout.
“And not my arm?”
“No, Jack. Not your arm”
With an embarrassed grin, he sighed, then grimaced. “I
gotta find something to stop this blasted itching.” He turned
on his heel. “I’ll be right back.”
Jack returned moments later with a fly swatter sticking out
of his cast. “It’s better than nothing,” he said, busily sliding
it in and out.
Nodding to a nearby chair, I said, “We need to talk.”
He plopped down. “Make it fast. My arm’s driving me
nuts.”
Despite the complaining I’ve done about him, Jack was a
good friend, and I was reluctant to upset him, but if I was to
continue my investigation, I had to be honest with him.
“Jack. I’ve something to tell you. After you hear what I have
to say, you decide if you want me to continue the investigation or not.”
He frowned, puzzled. “I don’t follow you.”
I took a deep breath. “It could very well be that one,
maybe all of your brothers and your sister are responsible
for the death of your father.”
He grimaced as if I’d kicked him in the stomach. “Are-are
you sure?”
“No. I’m not sure of anything, but it appears that’s the
direction we’re heading.”
“Did you find anything in John’s files that makes you
think that?” He gestured to the file cabinet.
“Not much other than he loaned WR and Stewart a lot of
money they never paid back.”
Jack chuckled. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” He
paused. “Do you think you can find any evidence that will
tell you who killed John?”
“There’s always evidence. The trick is not only finding it,
but then also interpreting it correctly.” I nodded. “It’s there.
It’ll just take time to uncover it. I’m telling you all of this
because it’s time your family knows what I’m doing.”
“They’ll be mad knowing you suspect them”
“They can take it up with the police chief. He gave me his
blessing to investigate your father’s death” I paused.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Do I go on? It’s up to you, Jack. If you want to drop it
now, just say so” I had mixed feelings. I hated to see deliberate injury against another go unpunished, yet if my suspi cions proved true, Jack would be hurt. Conscience or friendship. Heck of a choice. I knew what I would do, but I
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