Harmony 01 After Dark Read Online Free PDF Page B

particular shade of green wasn't used in the early colonial era. It appeared about forty years after the Curtain closed."
    Bartholomew sighed. "Thank you for your opinion."
    Lydia chuckled. "Hey, don't go changing the price on my account. Like you said, I'm no colonial-antiques expert."
    "Quite true," Bartholomew said a little too readily. "And I won't be changing the price."
    She took another look at her watch. Fifteen minutes left until she had to be back at Shrimpton's House of Ancient Horrors. There had been time for visits to only two antique galleries on her lunch hour today. She had deliberately chosen to start with Greeley's Antiques and Hick-man's Colonial Artifacts because both proprietors dealt in Old Earth and first-generation artifacts and because neither gallery owner was overburdened with scruples.
    "I've got to get back to the office," Lydia said. "We've been swamped at Shrimpton's today. You will let me know right away if you hear anything, won't you?"
    "You have my word on it, my dear." Bartholomew looked at her. "Speaking of your job at Shrimpton's little museum, mind if I ask a question?"
    "I didn't murder poor Chester."
    Bartholomew gave her a limpid glance. "Good heavens, Lydia, I wasn't about to suggest that you did."
    "Why not? Everyone else has felt free to suggest exactly that."
    Bartholomew leaned forward and rested his elbows on the counter. "The thing is, why was he found in that tacky little establishment where you work?"
    "Haven't got a clue." Lydia turned to walk toward the front door. "But I'll tell you one thing. If I had killed Chester, I wouldn't have left his body just down the hall from my own office. A little too obvious."
    Bartholomew looked thoughtful. "I suppose that's true. But it does raise another interesting question."
    "I know." Lydia opened the door. "What was Chester doing in Shrimpton's in the first place?"
    "What do the cops think?"
    "They think he went there to steal something. Granted, we're not a front-rank museum, but we do have some interesting items in the collection, especially in the Tomb Gallery. I wouldn't put it past Chester to lift a couple of vases or some tomb mirrors."
    "I wouldn't put anything past Chester. But why was he murdered, do you think?"
    Lydia shook her head. "Who knows? Detective Martinez believes that one of his truly annoyed clients followed him and killed him in the museum."
    "Poor Chester. He never got that big break he was always looking for, did he?"
    "No," Lydia said quietly, "he didn't."
    She stepped out onto the sidewalk and closed the door behind herself. She was satisfied with what she had accomplished. Both Greeley and Hickman operated in the gray area between the world of respectable galleries and the illegal underground of the antiques business. By tonight, the news that she was looking for the cabinet of curiosities would have reached every dealer in Cadence.
    She shot another glance at her watch and smiled to herself. So what if she was a suspect in a murder investigation? Things were looking up. Counting travel time to and from Ruin Row, she was about to post her first bill-able hour to Emmett London's account.
    Her first job as a private consultant was off to a nice start. She could only hope that she wasn't successful too soon. The less time it took to track down the London family heirloom, the less she could charge Emmett for her services. She pursed her lips. Maybe she should have done a fixed-price contract.
     
    * * *
    Emmett emerged from the crowded bar and walked down the cracked sidewalk. The weak streetlamps in this section of the Old Quarter made only small inroads in the dark valleys of the night, and the light fog didn't help. It created impenetrable pockets of shadow in the unlit doorways of the looming buildings. It was a little like moving through a Dead City catacomb, Emmett thought, but without the green glow and the eerie, alien quality.
    He crossed the silent street, automatically adjusting his balance so that his