Death Waxed Over - Tim Myers [39]
Markum said, “He can’t do anything with that, unless he knows that Pearly was in New Conover when it happened.”
“Yeah, well, I’m guessing he found out. Morton acted like Pearly was fleeing the country when I told him he’d gone to the mountains.”
Markum said, “Can you blame him? What ties does Pearly have to the community? This place is the only family he’s got around here.”
I hadn’t known that about Pearly. “Are you saying you think that he might have run away? I don’t believe it.”
Markum snorted once, then said, “Neither do I. But I have to give Morton some slack. It doesn’t look good.”
While Markum was still frowning, I said, “I didn’t have a chance to talk to Jubal today, so I’m still not sure who Gretel’s attorney was.”
Markum smiled. “The man’s name is Cyrus Blain. He’s got an office in Hickory, but he spends most of his time around here.”
“Now how did you find that out?”
“You’re not the only one with resources in town. I went to see him this afternoon. It was quite illuminating.”
“He told you something about the will?”
Markum put his feet up on his desk. “It wasn’t exactly a free exchange of information, but I managed to pick up a thing or two. The man runs a satellite operation here in town. His office looks like two broom closets stuck together. He doesn’t even have a secretary, and his files are in the waiting area. The old buzzard kept me waiting twenty minutes, and by the time he showed me into his office, I’d found what I was looking for. Take a peek at these.”
He took his feet off the desk, retrieved a folder from the bottom drawer and slid it across the desk to me. Inside, there were half a dozen black-and-white photographs, each showing a different page of a legal document.
“You had the guts to stand there and take pictures? Why didn’t you just ask him if you could use the copier?”
Markum grinned. “I would have, but it’s in the office he’s in, and I thought that might be pushing it.”
“But taking pictures of the will wasn’t?” I asked, marveling at the clarity of the shots.
Markum smiled, then pulled a pen from his pocket. “This comes in handy sometimes when I need to document what I’m doing.” He handed me the pen and I saw that it hadn’t been designed to write at all. Instead, it appeared to be a tiny camera. Markum explained, “I got it off the Internet. I wasn’t sure it would be worthwhile having, but I’ve been surprised. Never mind the gadget; look at the papers.”
I studied the photographed documents for a few minutes, then said, “It’s what Jubal told me. Gretel’s brother Hans gets everything. There are a few minor bequests, but nothing that amounts to much.”
‘Think again. Did you see that Pearly was mentioned?”
“Yeah, that surprised me. It took me a second to remember that Pearly’s given name is Parsons. I wonder if he’s related to the people Parsons Landing is named after?”
“Let’s not worry about his genealogy right now. What do you think about him being mentioned in the will?”
“You know, they hadn’t been dating all that long. I can’t imagine her leaving him anything. It’s not much, though. How much could a pair of antique ceremonial masks be worth, anyway?”
“Don’t kid yourself. I did a little research while I was waiting for you to show up. Look at this.” He hit a few keys on his laptop, then pivoted the screen around so I could see it. There was a pair of dark wooden masks on display, with a paragraph on their importance. “So? I still don’t see a price.”
“First look at who the masks belong to.”
I scanned down and saw that Gretel Barnett was the registered owner. “How’d you find this?”
“I did a little research, Harrison. This is an auction house I’ve used in the past. It’s a place where provenance is not all that important, if you know what I mean. Scan a little more.”
I scrolled down and saw the opening bid on the masks. “Forty grand? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Markum attached a cable from his computer to a printer tucked under his desk, made a copy, then handed the listing to me. As I studied it, he said, “It appears Pearly and Gretel