The Sorcerer's House (17 page)

As he spoke, chimes sounded in the hallway. I put down the tray and would have started toward the door, but the old man said, "Permit me, sir. It is my office."

He soon returned, followed by a middle-aged technician in coveralls. I said, "Please excuse our appearance. Our furniture hasn't arrived, and my man and I have been trying to clean the old place."

"Sure. Must have been hard with no juice."

I nodded. "It is."

"I come here a couple days ago and switched it on for you. Only somebody turned it back off. Did you do that?"

"Certainly not." I paused to reflect. "I'd been at Mrs. Murrey's, and had caught a ride back here. When I got here, there were lights on all over the house. Before I reached the front door, they were extinguished, leaving the house dark again. At the time, I thought your company had done it."

"No, sir. I'd have known, 'cause there'd have been a order on my computer. There's a master switch that can be locked either way. Up and you're on." He illustrated by a gesture. "Down and you're off."

"I see."

"When I was here before, I unlocked it and pushed it up. Then I locked it again like that. You're not supposed to touch it. It belongs to the company."

"I haven't touched it," I said.

The old man added, "Nor have I, sir."

"Well, somebody did. Somebody busted our lock and shut you down."

"Why would anyone do that?"

He shrugged. "Just mischief, most likely. Now I need you to try the lights and sign for me. I couldn't get you to sign the first time 'cause you wasn't here."

I had been forcing myself to keep my eyes away from the tray, but as soon as he had left I told the old man, "We ought to dispose of that."

"My own thought precisely, sir. I might bury it in the wood behind the house. Have we a spade?" The contrast between the old man's exceedingly correct manner and his torn and soiled clothing could not have been greater.

"We do. But that--that thing would still be here and might eventually be found. I'll throw it in the river, but I don't suppose I should do it before dark."

"I would counsel you against it, sir. A prudent act may be less prudent by day."

"Doris is coming, too. Doris Griffin. We're going to have a look at some property I seem to have inherited."

"If I may offer a suggestion, sir?"

At that very moment, Millie (I do not blame you in the slightest if you do not credit it), Doris's horn sounded in the driveway. If I left, I would be leaving a destitute old tramp alone with a mattress stuffed with money; I have never been so tempted to call the police in my life.

I got out two twenties instead and gave them to him, saying he had earned that much and more.

"Thank you, sir! You needn't keep your lady waiting. Rely upon me."

"What are you going to do?"

"You have purchased groceries, sir. I observed the plastic bags in which such commodities are packed in the kitchen."

I nodded. "What of it?"

"I shall tie that"--he glanced toward the covered tray--"in one of those bags, sir, after adding stones to weight it. When it has been thus prepared, I shall cast it in. You may rely upon me, sir."

"And you can rely on me to be properly grateful for your help," I told him.

Doris's horn winded again, and I dashed out.

She smiled at my breathless entrance and we shook hands; but I do not believe either of us spoke until we were a mile or more outside town. Then she said, "You've got boots, I see. That's probably wise."

"Blue jeans, too, and a manly shirt."

"Not to mention a hat fit for an explorer."

"Precisely. I feel sure it will be too warm, but as a fan it should serve me well."

"Aren't the sides mesh? I thought I saw that."

"Yes, but I can fill it with fallen leaves when the weather grows colder. You know where this place is?"

"Of course I do. Have you always kept your hair as short as that?"

"Not really. It's often been shorter. Since you know, how about telling me?"

"We drive down to Port Saint Jude and cross the river there. Turn
left on State Thirty-seven and head back up. Mr. Hardaway briefed me on the Skotos Strip this morning, and it begins at Greenwood Road and ends at Old Willow."

"Its southern edge is the river?"

"That's right. It's one of the things that makes it so valuable."

I considered that. "I'd like to go down the river in a boat sometime."

She glanced at me, a slight smile playing around her lips. "So would I. We'll do it as soon as I can set it up."

"Good."

"I'll pack a picnic lunch. It'll be fun."

"Provided we watch out for poison ivy. You say we're going to Port Saint Jude. Could we stop at a coin shop there for a moment or two? I believe the address is one sixteen Main."

"Of course."

"It's fifteen miles to Port Saint Jude, isn't it?"

"From town? That's right. Probably eleven or twelve from here."

"So that's thirty miles of riverfront, counting both sides--thirty miles of woods and farmland. I'd like to see what makes a three-mile strip on the wrong side of the river so valuable."

"I'll be happy to show you, but I can tell you right now. First, it isn't all woods or farmland, on this side particularly. There are homes here and there. If you wanted to put in a major development, you'd have to buy them."

I nodded.

"Which is bad enough. Then you'd have to tear them down, and all the woodsheds, and barns, and detached garages, and so on. All that costs, and you'd be sure to find a few owners who wouldn't sell at any reasonable price. We cuss them in my business."

I said, "I imagine you do."

"But they've lived there for thirty or forty years. Pretty often, they grew up in that home. Would they sell if the offer was high enough? Sure they would, but you wouldn't want to buy a home for twice what it's worth."

"I understand."

"Swell. Second, a lot of it's flood plain. Land that's covered with water every time the river rises. People will build homes on flood plain, and people will buy homes there. But not pricey homes. We're talking two-bedroom starter homes, mostly."

"Yes. Go on."

"You still haven't heard the worst. A whole lot of it's swamp. There's nothing worse than swamp. If you can build on it at all, you've got to bring in tons and tons of fill, and that costs more than tearing down the old homes. If it's protected wetlands, you can't build on it at all. You can own it, sure. But you can't do anything with it that might scare the ducks."

I started to speak, but she said, "I'm not finished. The Skotos Strip's not like that. Not at all. It slopes up, away from the river. Slopes pretty steeply, but not too steeply. Because of the slope, it's never been farmed. There are big old trees that could be left when the homes are built. It's ideal, and you don't want to be on this side of the river. There's too many gas stations, garages, and groceries." Doris pointed. "Knitting supplies, honey, and live bait. Did you see that?"

"Yes, I did."

"Look at this one coming up. Saws sharpened. This's where poor people live. The north side's a lot more rural, which means less spoiled. You'll understand what I'm saying better when we take that boat trip."

I had hardly heard her second and third statements. "I find it hard to look down on those poor people," I said. "After all, I'm one of them, a poor man living in an old house on the wrong side of the river."

"A poor man who just might buy a rare coin to add to his collection."

"You have that backward, I'm afraid. I have a coin I might sell. I probably won't, but I might. I want to hear what a professional has to say about it."

"May I see it?"

Remembering the ring, I hesitated. "You're driving, Doris. I don't think you should."

"I'll pull over."

She did, and I handed her the coin.

"Wow! Is this gold? How old is it?"

"It's certainly gold--not pure gold, of course. As I understand it, pure gold is too soft. As to its age, your guess is as good as mine, so let's hear it."

"What have you got, Bax? Two Ph.D.'s? I think you said that."

I nodded.

"I was a home-economics major and never got a degree. So my guess
isn't
as good as yours. But I think this goes way back to ancient times. I don't know what the shop in Port Saint Jude will say, but my guess is that Saint Jude in person would call this a really old coin."

A gnome ran the coin shop, a stooped, bald man with glasses and enormous ears. I showed him my coin; he scrutinized it through a large magnifying glass, weighed it, and scrutinized it again through a jeweler's loupe. "You say you found this?"

"Correct. I live in an old house on this side of the river." I cleared my throat. "I own the house, so the coin is legally mine. I was looking at some furniture in the attic and found this coin in a drawer."

He said nothing.

"It looks old and I'm interested in ancient history, so I put it in my pocket. I'd be very grateful if you can tell me anything about it."

"Very little." He sighed. "Very, very little, sir, and I cannot provide the appraisal we spoke of. I've never seen one like this. I have reference books, and I will go through them tonight. If you'll leave your number with me, I'll call you. That's if I find anything."

I gave him my number.

"The helmeted woman on the obverse . . ."

"Yes?"

"Presumably, she is Athena. A woman wearing a helmet on a Greek coin is always Athena, in my experience. The other woman on the reverse--"

Doris interrupted. "Is that a woman?"

"It is, madam. You failed to observe her breasts. Breasts, plural. So would I, without a glass. But they are there." He sighed. "She engages with a spear in one hand and a sword in the other. No doubt you both saw that. Thus she is not a second depiction of Athena, who would
surely bear the aegis, the shield of Zeus. Nor is she an Amazon, since an Amazon would have but one breast."

Doris looked surprised, and he added. "That is what the Greek means, madam. Without a breast. One breast was burned away in infancy."

He turned back to me. "Do you wish to sell this, sir?"

"Perhaps. I don't know."

"Knowing no more than I do, I dare not offer too much. Would you consider three hundred dollars?"

I shook my head.

"Then three hundred and fifty, and that is my final offer. Until I know more, I can go no higher."

"No," I said.

"He's a poor man," Doris told the shopkeeper, "who never seems to need money."

He ignored her. "If you like, sir, I will take it on consignment, with a price of five hundred dollars. If it sells, my commission will be twenty percent. Shall I do that?"

I declined, and we drove to the Skotos Strip.

It was larger and more heavily forested than I had imagined. The slope was slight, but perceptible. We drove slowly up Route Thirty-seven until we found a good spot and pulled off the road. As she locked the car, Doris asked what I wanted to do.

"I'd like to walk south from here until we reach the river, then walk along the river a bit. After that we can turn north, find this road, and follow it to the car. It should be two miles or less, I would think. Would that be agreeable?"

It was, and we set out. The oaks--they were nearly all oaks--were large and in full leaf. They protected us from the sun so well that the time might have been an hour after sunset. I had come prepared for mosquitoes. There were none, and a large flashlight would have been a more useful provision. I said as much, and added that I was afraid of stepping in a hole.

"Are you as lost as I am?"

"Not at all, I'm following the slope down. If we do that, we're certain to reach the river."

As I spoke, a hand slipped into mine.

It was pleasant, of course; but a few minutes later when Doris said, "I think I'll turn around and go back," it seemed that she was some distance behind me.

"I'll meet you at the car, in that case," I told her. The hand in mine squeezed it, which I took to mean that she would not actually leave.

Almost at once, a big, heavyset man stood frowning in front of us. I should scarcely have been able to see him, yet I saw him quite distinctly--his white shirt and dark patterned tie, as well as his fleshy, not-unhandsome face.

My companion muttered something, and he vanished as abruptly as he had appeared.

I said, "Did you see that?"

"We are not far from the water."

I looked, but could see only the trees and a little underbrush; listened, but could hear no sound that might have been flowing water.

"A man was standing right in front of us."

She said nothing.

By then I had recovered sufficiently to be frightened. "Tassels on his loafers, dark slacks, and a white shirt." I was babbling.