I laughed.
"You want to keep your head above water, you need an edge. Is this concept new to you?"
"Toby," I said, “I'm a Dunstan."
He stuck out his furry paw, and in the light of a sudden recognition I surrendered my hand to be tenderized. Toby Kraft's loyalty to my aunts, by extension to me, would forever overlook the petty cruelties they wished upon him, because Nettie and May represented his only surviving connection to the wife whose extraordinary talents had delighted him beyond measure.
•84
•I spent the rest of the day in the doze of the pawnshop. Separately, two men who looked as though they had never pawned anything in their lives came in and proceeded to the office. On his way to lunch, Toby introduced me to the second of these visitors, "Mr. Profitt," who brushed his manicured hand against mine and said, all in one word, "Goodameetchakiddonledimdownawright?"
“I hear you," I said.
Toby came back alone and handed me a brown bag containing a tuna-fish sandwich, a packet of potato chips, and a Coca-Cola. He apologized for not giving me a lunch break and said I was doing a great job. To my surprise, the customers I dealt with during the day bore out his promise that I would know how much to offer for a pledge: by a flick of the eyes, a hesitation of speech, a wayward gesture, each had communicated the hoped-for amount. When I named half of the sum, they accepted on the spot.
At 5:00p.m., Toby patted me on the back and told me I could get "spruced up" for the aunts. He gave me a set of keys. "Let yourself in a half hour early tomorrow, okay? We're going to rearrange the storage room. When you leave, lock up in front and show theclosed sign. I don't want no more customers today."
After I locked the gates, I went to an agency on Commercial Avenue, checked the boxes for all the insurance I could get, and rented a Ford Taurus painted the saturated green of a Spanish olive.
•85
•The map in Hugh Coventry's old journal put the entrance to Buxton Place, where Edward Rinehart had occupied two cottages purchased under the names of characters from H. P. Lovecraft, near the top of Fairground Road, not far from the campus. I pulled into a parking space in front of a coffee shop. Two blocks ahead, Fairground Road came to an end at a deep swath of green intersected by paths leading to red brick, neo-Georgian buildings. I glanced backward and saw the bus stop where I had gotten off to visit Suki Teeter. Buxton Place lay ahead and on the other side of Fairground Road. I walked past the gilded window of an Irish bar called Brennan's, then stepped between the parked cars and jogged across the street.
Storefronts lined the sidewalk all the way to the intersection. Buxton Place had to be in the last block before the university. I went past an unbroken row of comic-book stores, clothing outlets, student restaurants, and candy shops. My memory had tricked me, and the cul-de-sac came into Fairground Road further south, maybe a block past Suki's corner.
I walked past the same storefronts I had seen on the way up. When I came parallel to Brennan's, I glanced through the window at an aproned bartender aiming a remote control at a television set I could not see. I glanced to my right and between a Canadian pancake house and a Middle Eastern restaurant saw a cobbled alley no wider than my rented car. If the alley had a name, the City of Edgerton had seen no reason to put up a sign. I stepped down onto the cobbles and peered into the gloom. Past the rear of the shops on either side, the alley widened out. I made out the double doors of old stables and, at the far end, two small cottages.
Thick padlocks hung from the doors of the old stables. Beneath their dusty windows, stenciled letters spelled out ALBERTUS UNIVERSITY STORAGE FACILITY. Edward Rinehart's houses stood side by side, separated by a common wall. Each had two windows up and down and a fanlight over an arched doorway. Narrow chimneys pierced the slanting tiled roofs, and iron crestings ran along the gutters. They looked distorted, diminished, as if squeezed down from some larger, original size. The windows reflected my cupped hands and the dark, indistinct oval of my face. I hurried back into the sunlight.
With eight minutes in which to accomplish a fifteen-minute drive, I whirled into an illegal U-turn and sped south on Fairground Road. A traffic light flashed yellow, and I bumped the accelerator and shot through the intersection a moment before it turned red. Robert, who had abruptly appeared next to me in the passenger seat, applauded. "Dash! Verve!"
I almost drove into a parked car.
"Did I startle you? Please accept my apologies. I trust that our documents are now in Toby Kraft's safe."
"Go to hell. Yes, they're in Toby's safe."
"Do we have plans for the evening?"
“I'm having dinner with Nettie and May."
"Do you know, I have never enjoyed a meal in the company of our great-aunts?"
"You wouldn't like it," I said. "Their conversation tends to be repetitious."
"Let me relieve you of the tedium. I'll take your place."
"No."
"After the tedious dinner, were you thinking of driving to Ellendale?"
"Stay away from Laurie Hatch," I said.
“If you insist. For the time being, anyhow."
"Robert," I said, but I was talking to an empty seat.
•86
•From her station in the window, Aunt Joy pointed at Nettie's house, then herself, telling me that I was to come over after dinner. I nodded. Joy and I had a lot to talk about.
The aunts smiled up from the sofa as I came into the living room. Clark granted me the indulgent sneer of a man fresh from an appearance at the Speedway Lounge. He was arrayed in pearl-gray trousers, the jacket of a purple suit, and a wide necktie with yellow polka dots on a red background. “I guess you got a vehicle now."
"Just a rental," I said. I kissed my aunts, and May handed me a brown paper bag.
“I hope I got the sizes right."
In the bag were two three-packs of Calvin Klein briefs, size 34, and six pairs of black over-the-calf wool socks, size 10—12. After the aunts had divided up the loot from the ICU, I had jokingly asked May to get me underwear and socks, and she had taken me at my word. "The sizes are perfect," I said. “I don't really approve of this, but thanks, Aunt May. I can use them."
“Is that blazer your only coat, Neddie? I can get you a new one from Lyall's. They have some beautiful coats in their men's department."
"No, no," I said hurriedly, “I have all the jackets I need."
"Have any this color?" Clark asked, almost belligerently.
"No, but it's very pretty."
"What would you call this particular color?"
"Purple?"
“I hate to see a young man make a fool of himself."
"Midnight purple?"
"The true name for this shade is aubergine. Now you don't have to walk around in ignorance."
"Good," I said. “I've been walking around in ignorance most of my life."
Nettie said, “I think we had better get into the kitchen. Do you still like fried chicken, Ned?"
"Do I ever."
The table had been set with bowls of mashed potatoes and string beans and a pitcher of iced tea. Nettie peeled aluminum foil off the top of a platter of fried chicken. May hobbled up to distribute the chicken onto our plates. Uncle Clark lowered himself into a chair, and I poured him a glass of iced tea. "How's your friend Cassie?"