From the Grounds Up Read Online Free PDF Page B

it was too late.'
    'The man was deaf anyway,' Sarah muttered crossly. 'And nearly blind.'
    'The setting sun is awful this time of year,' Rebecca Penn said, redundantly. The woman had been so quiet since our introduction that I'd forgotten she was there. 'It certainly could have wrecked his vision.'
    'No "vision" to "wreck",' Sarah said. 'Cataracts.'
    'What a shame.' I wasn't thinking about cataracts, I was thinking about fate. Chance. 'If Uncle Kornell,' which earned me a cutting glance from Sarah. 'If Mr Eisvogel,' I corrected, 'had left a fraction sooner. If the train hadn't been early—'
    'Early?' The question came in quadruplicate from Art, Rebecca, Michael and Christy.
    Pavlik expanded it. 'The train was ahead of schedule? By how much?'
    'I'm not sure, exactly. Kornell left at three minutes after eight and the train wasn't due until eight fifteen. He didn't leave at a dead run,' I felt myself flush at my choice of words, 'but it certainly wouldn't have taken him twelve minutes to start the car and drive the half-block to the tracks.'
    The train's conductor was standing about twenty feet away, talking with a deputy. Pavlik waved them over. 'Why didn't you tell me the train was early?'
    The conductor looked surprised. 'Because it wasn't. We were right on schedule.'
    I turned to Sarah for support. 'Your uncle left at three minutes past the hour, right?'
    Sarah shrugged. Probably ticked because I still referred to the deceased as her 'uncle'.
    I turned back to Pavlik. 'Before he left, Eisvogel checked the Brookhills wall clock.'
    'Figures.' This from Art Jenada.
    We all looked at him.
    He shrugged. 'Every day, when I ran the place, Crazy would "stop by to check the time". It was just an excuse. Bad enough the old man was too cheap to get a watch or have the other two clocks fixed like I asked him, but then he expected me to feed him, too. Acted like he owned the place.'
    Which, to give the devil his due, Eisvogel thought he did.
    'The decedent's license was restricted to daylight driving, sir,' the deputy contributed, as if none of us were there.
    'Kornell Eisvogel,' I said, 'told us he'd be home by sunset. He seemed to have it all timed out, like he did this on a regular basis.'
    'He sure as hell did.' Jenada rubbed his bristled face. 'I closed at eight and Crazy'd shoot out of there right after that, carrying any leftovers he could score.'
    'Where was the deceased's home?' Pavlik asked his deputy.
    The deputy opened a notebook. 'Brookhills Manor, according to his driver's license. It's just down the street. And they're right: The old man would have made it if he'd left a couple of minutes earlier.'
    'Or the train had been on time,' I added, sneaking a peek at the conductor.
    'We were on time,' he said testily. 'Check our log.'
    'I'll do that,' Pavlik said. 'It's most likely, though, that the depot's clock is wrong.'
    'Clocks,' I corrected. 'There are three of them, but like Art says, only one of them keeps time. I'll show you now if you'd like.'
    Pavlik let me lead the way. The rest of the group had already broken up and Sarah was nowhere in sight. Art Jenada and Christy Wrigley were walking diagonally toward their establishments. Michael Inkel and Rebecca Penn were heading parallel to the train about ten yards ahead of us and talking in low voices.
    Occasionally I could make out a word or so. 'Why did—', 'I warned—', 'You always—'
    Definitely a couple.
    I started to say something, but Pavlik put up a warning finger.
    When Rebecca and Michael turned off and were out of earshot, Pavlik said, 'Must you be at every unattended death in my jurisdiction?'
    'It's not any fault of mine,' I protested. 'It just happens. Like a curse.'
    His look made it clear he thought I might be the curse. 'People are starting to notice.'
    'Notice?'
    'That you show up whenever somebody crumps.'
    'Oh.' I could see the awkward side of that. 'Did you explain it's just a coincidence?'
    'No. I told them you're my stalker.' His eyes flared blue for