Even the Butler Was Poor by Ron Goulart Read Free Book Online Page A

down a pale green hallway. She hesitated in the arched doorway to the reposing room. "I can't, from here, see who's in the coffin."
    Easing around her, Ben crossed the maroon carpeting and halted beside the metal stand that supported the polished wood coffin. There were no mourners in the small room, the five rows of dark wood benches were empty. Arranged behind the coffin were six small floral wreaths on wooden legs. "This is the right one," he said.
    Gingerly, she came into the room to join him. "I should've brought some flowers."
    "Custom doesn't require grave robbers to do that."
    "It really is McAuliffe?" She was watching her feet, not the occupant of the coffin.
    "Appears to be, judging from my childhood memories and from that photo I saw back at the home."
    Very slowly, and uneasily, she raised her head, stood on tiptoe and chanced a quick glance. "Oh, Jesus—I don't like to view bodies."
    "You should be getting accustomed by now."
    "Where's little Buggsy?"
    Ben pointed. "Right over there."
    The dummy's freckled face was visible on the far side of the coffin, wedged in next to the dead ventriloquist's right side, his red hair bright against the white satin lining.
    H.J., fists clenching, forced herself to take a more careful look into the coffin. "Yes, that's Buggsy sure enough," she said. "He looks dead, too."
    "Let's leave him be, Helen Joanne, and head for—"
    "No, I've come this far and I intend to carry this through. Can you tug him out of there, Ben?"
    "Might be easier to just reach in there and—"
    "But Buggsy's legs are hidden by the lower half of the coffin lid," she said. "No, you're going to have to get hold of the little guy by his armpits and give him a good hefty tug."
    "That's what you are going to have to do. I'm only an accessory, not the perpetrator."
    "Honestly, you can be such a geek at times." Nudging him aside, she stepped closer to the coffin.
    "Ah, I'm very glad to see this."
    H.J. stopped still, then brought her forefinger up to her nose, sniffling. When she turned to face the newcomer to the room, she seemed to be crying. "It's so sad," she managed to say.
    "He's had so few visitors, which is why I'm delighted to find you two here paying your respects." The man was in his forties, small, fresh-shaven, smelling of flowers and furniture polish. He wore a grey suit and a grey tie. "I'm Lynn Gerstenkom, one of the partners in the Wee Chapel," he explained as he approached them. With a sad smile he handed Ben an embossed business card. "Should you ever need our services." He smiled even more sadly as he gave H.J. a card.
    "My husband and I were dear friends of Mr. McAuliffe," she explained, sniffling while she dropped the card into her black purse. "And of little Buggsy, too."
    "Let me, now you've mentioned him, ask you something." Gerstenkom rubbed at his temples, then rubbed his hands together. "Does the dummy look—how shall I put it? Does he look tastefully laid out?"
    "Very much so," responded H.J. "Don't you think so, dear?"
    "Yes, yeah. He looks very natural. You'd almost think he was alive."
    "We debated long and loud, my partners and I, as to whether or not it was good taste to allow the dummy to share the coffin," said the funeral director. "There's also the question of provoking unwanted levity. Still, it was Mr. McAuliffe's wish, and in his day, so. I've been led to understand, he and the dummy were a well-known team."
    "You've arranged everything quite beautifully," H.J. assured him. "Now, I wonder if my husband and I might be alone here to pay our last respects to them both."
    "To be sure, certainly. I'll simply go sit down over there in the last row," said Gerstenkom. "This, you know, is my favorite of our six minichapels. I always bring myself here at day's end for a period of quiet meditation."
    H.J. asked, "How long a period?"
    "Oh, usually a half hour."
    Near to Ben's ear she said, "We'll have to come back later, damn it." Moving back, she smiled sweetly at the