“You think a Key West ghost might know something about it?”
Bartholomew tapped the book. “It was published in England, so I don’t know. And you know that I don’t necessarily know every ghost in Key West, any more than you know all of the living. But I can prowl around the library, and…”
“And?”
Bartholomew smiled. If it was possible for a ghost to blush, he blushed. “Lucinda might know something about it,” he said softly. Lucinda, the lady in white, the ghost who had finally talked to him recently and become the love of his life…or, rather, death.
“She was extremely well-educated,” Bartholomew said softly.
Liam nodded. He studied the little casket. He found himself wondering if there were any powers in it, and then felt foolish.
It was just a box, with a gold ball. And he felt nothing, nothing at all, as he held it.
Why had it been clutched so tightly in Cutter Merlin’s hand?
For the first ten minutes Kelsey sat in Joe Richter’s office, all she heard were legal terms that might as well have been Greek. Or Latin—since she assumed that many of the terms in a will were Latin or derivatives thereof.
“Well, that’s it, then,” Joe Richter said at last, taking off his reading glasses and setting the folder he had been reading from back down on his desk. “Once you sign these papers for me, I can get everything into your name. It’s all yours, and the disposal of all Cutter’s ‘earthly goods’ is up to you. The second page dealt with the fact that he believed that you will ‘abide by all my wishes, as set down in my ledger.’ So, that was easy enough, right?”
“So far,” Kelsey said. She smiled. “Have you been in the house?”
Joe laughed. “Not for a bit. But I liked Cutter, and admired him, Kelsey. He was a good man. I think he might have been a great man if—”
“If my mother hadn’t died,” Kelsey finished when he broke off, his face reddening.
“He loved the world. He didn’t like the fact that artifacts were stolen from other countries, and he was instrumental in seeing that a great deal of material taken from Greece by the allied nations was returned in the decades following World War II. For his private collections, he never wanted anything that was pertinent to the history of another country.”
“He kept a mummy.”
“Ah, yes, but there are mummies all over. He didn’t keep the remains of a great pharaoh! He told me that when the English and northern Europeans first started their excavations in Egypt, mummies were so plentiful that people used them as tinder for their fireplaces.” Richter ran his fingers through his white hair and shrugged. “Countries would often exchange their treasures. Native American artifacts can be found in many museums on other continents. He didn’t believe in stealing what belonged in the country of origin when it was precious to that country. Otherwise, he was a great collector of objects that might have been thrown away when an attic was cleaned out. He was brilliant with his knowledge at auction houses, and when he went around the world and made discoveries himself, he only kept objects with the blessing of the country’s finest archaeologists and historians. But, yes, frankly—I imagine you will have your work cut out for you.”
“I don’t mind. I did love him,” Kelsey said.
She wondered if the expression he gave her then suggested that she might have returned long ago if she had really meant her words.
Then, again, there were those who understood that her father would not return to the place of his wife’s death, and that it might perhaps be painful for Kelsey to do so, as well.
“I’d like Cutter sent to the funeral home down the street from St. Paul’s,” she said. “I’d like to have a wake for him on Sunday evening, and have him interred in the Key West cemetery on Monday. He preferred St. Paul’s, so if one of the Episcopal priests from St. Paul’s will officiate, I’ll be grateful. I’m afraid I don’t know anyone, so—”
“I’ll see to the arrangements,” Richter assured her.
She thanked him and rose.
They shook hands, and he stood awkwardly as she exited.
His secretary, Lilly, smiled as Kelsey came out of the inner office. “Is everything all set, then? Do you need another appointment?”
“I don’t think so,” Kelsey told her. “If I have any problems, I’ll call in.”
“Are you planning on selling the property?” Lilly asked her. She was a sweet woman with bleached blond hair, slim features and, somehow, the look of an Afghan hound.
“I’m not sure yet.”