record,” Andrew said, holding out his hand for the return of the card. “That’s why Robert’s bail was waived.”
“You could skip the country,” Penny told Robert. “We could move to Canada.”
“That would hardly clear his name,” Sally said, somewhat alarmed by the prospect of losing Robert Koelz to Canada’s wasteland.
“I have already given the license plate number of Mary Jo’s van to the police,” Andrew said. “You did a great job. I hope Harvey has friends in the police department in Kansas City.”
“ Harvey has friends on the entire planet,” Robert said, already in the sauce.
Sally checked her watch to confirm the inappropriateness of his intoxication. Two o’clock in the afternoon. “Did you wait until after lunch, at least?” Sally asked him.
“We haven’t had lunch,” Penny said.
Andrew shook his head. “Robert, you need to keep a steady head for a couple weeks.”
“Nothing wrong with my head,” Robert said. “My ticker’s been racing and a sip of sherry slows it down, a bit.”
“When was the last time you had a physical? Sally asked, still irked because he was drinking. She realized part of the problem was she wanted to finish more than one bottle of cream sherry and now wouldn’t be soon enough to start. At least her friends respected her history and didn’t offer her favorite poison. Sally reminded herself Robert wasn’t an alcoholic until he acknowledged it; or rather, not accepting his addiction to alcohol guaranteed the continued consumption of Robert by the booze.
“Doctors are idiots,” Robert said. “But I could eat.”
“I need to talk to you, Robert,” Andrew said, checking his watch.
“I’ll go down to the Red Fox and bring you back soup and bread,” Sally offered.
“I’ll go with you,” Penny suggested.
She was a sweet child. Sally did like her and wouldn’t mind the company while she waited, or the extra arms to carry back the food. The wait for the order seemed exceedingly long. “I’m still tired from the trip,” Sally conceded.
“You look great,” Penny said. “I hope I can keep myself up, when I’m your age.”
“Oh thanks,” Sally said. “I’m not nearly as decrepit as all that.”
“No, no,” Penny blushed. “Didn’t I say it right? You look great.”
Sally nodded and tried to smile away the sag of her chin and the mean lines around her mouth. “You’ll always be a beauty, Penny.”
“I hope I don’t get fat,” she said. “I really love to eat.”
“You have so much energy. I’m sure you won’t stomach becoming a lazy person.”
“I’m still a virgin,” Penny said.
“Out of the blue.” Sally didn’t want to talk about the subject.
“I wanted you to know.”
“No,” Sally said. “You wanted me to explain why Robert hasn’t made a move on you.”
“Right,” Penny admitted.
“He’s a eunuch.” Sally hoped she would not need to give further details.
“From the war.” Penny’s blue eyes widened in appreciation, or alarm.
“No, his wife was a virgin when she divorced him,” Sally further enlightened her.
“She’s pregnant now,” Penny said.
“Is she?” Robert had not told Sally this new evidence of his failure. “When did he find out?”
“While you were in Illinois.” Penny traced the outline of a glass’ bottom, which remained eternalized on the surface of the wooden restaurant table. “Nancy stopped by. She’s six months pregnant.”
“A pretty picture to set before the king,” Sally said, wondering if she had gotten high from the fumes of stale alcohol in the Bibliopole.
“He wasn’t happy,” Penny said. “I can tell you that.”
“He surely didn’t say anything out of the way to her, for heaven’s sake?”
“No, no, Robert congratulated her, asked the due date, hoped to see the child when he ‘popped out’.”
“Popped out?” Sally asked.
“That’s how Robert put it.” Penny hung her head. “His ex-wife laughed.”
“You don’t want to