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.Larry was in his late sixties, and even though he didn’t have to, he dressed up each time he was at the museum, with a dress shirt, bow tie, and gray slacks.He had a gray moustache and beard and wore reading glasses perched at the end of his nose.Besides running the museum, his other work consisted of traveling hither and yon, taking spectacular photographs of lighthouses.He shook my hand as I got past the doors and said, “Damn, so sorry to hear about your house.I hear it was arson? True?”“Unfortunately, very true.”“Damn.Any idea who might have caused it?”“A literary critic who doesn’t like my columns, I guess.The investigation is still continuing, according to the State Fire Marshal’s office.”Larry folded his large leathery hands and leaned on a glass counter that held old coins and bills from the Revolutionary War period.“It was a hell of a shame, not only about your home, but about the history before it was converted into a house.”“Which is why I’m here, Larry,” I said.“A couple of years back, we had a chat at the Tyler Town Days.You said that somewhere in the archives, you had some original blueprints and plans for my home, covering at least fifty years.I was hoping I could see them at some point.”“You plan on rebuilding?”“You know it,” I said.Larry rubbed at his bristly beard.“I know we’ve got the plans.It’ll take some digging, but I can get them for you.But I got something else that might interest you.My brother-in-law Gavin, he’s in the home contractor business and specializes in old homes, old barns, stuff like that.”“Go on.”“Thing is, I know he keeps lumber he don’t use, and he’s got a christly big barn in Tyler Falls that’s full of planks and timbers that are up to a hundred years old.Some even older.It’ll be pricier than hell, but if you were wanting to do your remodeling job right, I could hook you up with him.”I smiled.“That’s fantastic.”Larry shook his head.“Again, I’ll warn you.It’ll be a right pricey job, to do it right.”I headed for the door.“Pricey is fine.I want to do it right, and then some.”On the third day after my return home, pricey was no longer fine.Adrian Zimmerman was an eager young man with fine black slacks, long leather coat and leather briefcase, and a small digital camera that he used to take photos of my house and what was left of my Ford Explorer.His hair was light blond and he shook his head a lot while walking around the rubble, and he looked like he had bought his first razor blade a month ago.He was a claims agent for the insurance company that covered both my home and car, and when he was done, we went back up to his Buick, where he breathed on his hands and rubbed them together.“Mister Cole, it’s obvious you’ve suffered a tremendous loss, but I’m afraid we can’t do anything for you at the present time.”I kept a pleasant smile on my face that didn’t match my words.“And why the hell not?”“It’s out of my hands, really, and the local office.Your case has been bumped up to regional.You see, preliminary investigation here is that your home fire began as an arson.Then, from police and news media reports, we also know that you were a suspect in a similar arson, just a few days later, up in Osgood.”“All those charges were dropped.”His smile was still wide and sincere.“Perhaps they were, but it still raises a number of questions, so regional plans to take its time answering before proceeding on any claim.”“That’s not fair, and you know it,” I said.“I’ve been a customer for years, never once late for a payment, not once ever filing a claim.”“Fair has nothing to do with it, I’m afraid.In these troubled times, Mister Cole, with your connection to two arsons, there will have to be a very thorough investigation before my company will assume liability and issue a payment.”“Look, I just want to get things going here.Don’t you understand?”“Of course I understand, Mister Cole, but look, even if a settlement is reached in another several months or so, my recommendation is that the residence be razed and a new structure be built in its place.”“It’s been here for more than a hundred years!”He shrugged.“A hundred or a thousand, it’s still nearly burned to the ground.”There were a few more words exchanged, with him getting calmer and cooler as I got angrier and hotter, but after a while I just gave up and he drove off, still smiling and in a good mood, in his company car, which I no doubt had had a hand in buying for him.Another day, this time with drinks at the Lafayette House bar with Felix in attendance.We both had Sam Adams beers and overpriced appetizers, and after munching through scallops wrapped in bacon and some jumbo shrimp, he said, “Confession time.Let it out.”“All right,” I said.“For the first time in my adult life, I didn’t vote in the presidential election.Couldn’t get an absentee ballot at the Grafton County Jail.”“Not much of a confession.What do you think of the results?”“The American people have spoken.Who am I to disagree?”“Even with one bum leg, you’re dancing pretty good.So.Confession time.Let it out.”I got another Sam Adams, another round of jumbo shrimp, and I let it all out.From the time I left Manchester in Felix’s borrowed pickup truck, to my surveillances in Osgood, to the encounter with the pheasant hunters, my later encounter with Professor Knowlton, and my raid of the house, the shootings, my wounding, the arrival of the Gurkha soldier, and the subsequent fire [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]