The Resurrection Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

Chinese porcelain and won’t let him do it in the house for fear he’ll break something.”
    “Why wife, and why Chinese?” asked Max.
    Charles thought it over. “Wife because he wasn’t a young kid,” he said at last. “His hair was fairly long, when he was flapping his head around I noticed some streaks of gray among the black. Porcelain because—I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that Mrs. Sarah was washing the china out of the cabinet in the dining room this morning and I was lifting down the pieces off the higher shelves for her.”
    “Could be. Thanks, Charlie. Well, guys, I don’t see much reason left for us to hang around here.” Max glanced at his wristwatch. “My God, I didn’t realize it was so late. We’d better get back to the house before Sarah sends an ambulance. Why don’t you gallop ahead, Charlie, and tell her we’re on the way? Bill, would you care to come back and eat with us?”
    “Thanks, but I’ve—”
    Bill’s hands were less expressive this time, perhaps he simply didn’t feel like having dinner at the Kelling house tonight. More likely, he was champing at the bit to get his espionage network perking on the subject of Bartolo Arbalest and his medieval-artisans’ guild. Max could relate to that. If he’d had two sound pins under him he’d be hitting the trail himself. He picked up Great-Uncle Frederick’s cane and pulled himself together for the homeward trek.
    The walk back across the Common was uneventful except for the usual requests for largesse from assorted indigents, which neither Max nor Brooks could ever wholly ignore. As they turned into Tulip Street, Max caught Sarah peeking out from behind the library curtains. She was having a hard time trying not to be too protective, poor kid. His accident, which in fact had been no accident at all except for the fact that the persons trying to kill him had fallen short of their ultimate purpose, had taken as big a toll from her as from himself. He’d have to find some way to make it up to her. At the moment, a hug and a fairly resounding kiss were the best he could think of.
    “Home is the hunter, home to the hill. So how’s my Fischele ?”
    “Fine. I’m just so glad you were able to—”
    Sarah had to break off and sniffle briefly into Max’s shirt front to show how glad she was. Then young Davy rushed out in his pajamas, demanding equal hugs and permission to play horse with the silver-headed cane. Being an amiable child, he settled for the hugs and the promise of a bedtime story after daddy’d had a chance to rest his leg, and rushed off to help Charles put on his butler’s coat and tie.
    “Theonia will be down in a minute, she’s changing,” Sarah explained as she led the two men into the library. “Can I pour you some sherry, or would you rather have something else?”
    “Sit down, Sarah, I’ll do the drinks.”
    Brooks bounded off, brisk as a squirrel. He was back in a wink or two with liquid refreshments and a bowl of salted peanuts, to which latter he and Max were both addicted. They were just nicely settled when Theonia made a regal entrance in a sumptuous new tea gown she’d put together out of oddments picked up at various thrift shops. Theonia loved elegant gowns almost as much as Brooks loved peanuts, but she would never have been so extravagant as simply to go out and buy one. Besides, it was more fun to improvise. She accepted white wine and soda from the hand of her loving spouse, cooed an endearment by way of thanks, and raised her glass.
    “Here’s to our dear Max, long may he walk! We’re so proud of you, Max darling. Sarah tells me you went out by yourself today.”
    “Just to the office,” Max replied modestly. “Bill Jones dropped in to say hello. In sign language, of course. And I ran into Lydia Ouspenska on the way over.”
    “Really? That must have been a nice surprise for you. Is she well and happy?”
    “Oddly enough, yes. How did you know?”
    Theonia shrugged, she was always