The Recycled Citizen by Charlotte MacLeod Page B

on the phone already. Loyal SCRC member leaves savings of a lifetime to establish fund for seniors’ boardinghouse. That’s no good, it needs more zing. Sarah, you’ll have to write a publicity release.”
    “Me? Dolph, I’ve never written a publicity release in my life.”
    “Then draw a picture. We’ve got to start this drive rolling while the iron’s hot. Come on, Max, let’s get over to Redfern’s and make sure we shan’t have any trouble getting this will through probate.”
    “While you’re at it,” Mary sniffed, “you might ask him if he can see any way to save our necks. You’re right, Max, I was foolish to think of destroying the will, and you’d be even sillier not to let the police know about the heroin. You mustn’t lose your detective license on account of us, not with a baby coming along. Only I know darn well they’ll be at us to close the center as soon as they find out what Chet was up to, then what will happen to our members? Not to mention what’s going to happen to us. I wouldn’t mind going to jail if I had to, but Dolph would absolutely hate it.”
    “I could stand it if you could,” Dolph insisted.
    “I’m not so sure of that, dear. I’ve had firsthand reports from a few of our members. They say the beds are hard and the food’s just awful. And they don’t even let husbands and wives stay in the same prison.”
    “You’re dreaming, Mary. Surely no judge would separate a man from his lawfully wedded wife. It’s—it’s indecent!”
    “Happens all the time,” said Max. “Okay, Dolph, we’ll go see Redfern. Only I’d like a word with those two witnesses first.”
    “Why don’t you leave Annie and Joan to me?” Mary suggested. “They’ll be busy for a while yet, and they wouldn’t open up for a stranger, anyway. As soon as they’re finished serving, I’ll sit down with them for a cup of tea and lead the conversation around to Chet. That won’t be hard. He’s the big excitement around here today. You two take Dolph along to lunch with you and buy him a martini before you see Mr. Redfern. Make sure he eats something that’s not fried. Dolph, you’ll come back here as soon as you’re through at the lawyer’s, won’t you?”
    “We all will,” Sarah promised.
    “Not to be rude, but I’d rather you didn’t, if you want the honest truth. It’s not that I don’t like having you, but the members are going to smell something fishy if you keep popping in and out. Why don’t I give you a call at the apartment later and we’ll get together and compare notes. Darn it all, why did this have to happen, just when everything was going so well?”

Chapter
 6
    “T HIS IS REAL NICE of you, Mrs. Bittersohn,” said Annie Bickens.
    They were in a restaurant on Canal Street. Rather than endure a boring visit to the lawyer’s office with the two men, Sarah had suggested a compromise arrangement. Mary had agreed. With a little conniving, she and her two assistants had bumped into Sarah coming from the Oyster House, and Sarah had invited the three of them to join her for the dessert Max allegedly hadn’t let her eat.
    “Not at all,” Sarah told Annie. “Frankly I’m hoping to pick your brains a little. Mary’s been asking me for advice on decorating the new housing facility and I’m wondering what colors the tenants would like best. We want the rooms to be cheerful and homey, but it would hardly be practical to paint each one to suit the particular tenant of the moment. Should I be thinking about neutral shades or bright colors?”
    “Just don’t make them pea green,” said Joan. “When I was in the hospital for two months that time, everything was yucky pea green, even the orderlies’ uniforms. It got me so down, I used to just lie there and cry.”
    “What gets to me is that awful tobacco-spit brown,” said Annie. “My old man used to chew tobacco and spit in the sink, then he’d make me clean it out. I ran away when I was thirteen, but I still feel