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

funeral director. "Why don't you, Mr. Gerstenkom, show the flowers and their cards to my husband. I want to go freshen up before we leave."
    "Flowers?" said Ben, watching her start down the aisle alone.
    "Yes, you know how interested you are in that sort of thing. Kind of flowers, sentiments expressed, who from and so on."
    "I fear there aren't as many floral tributes as one might have expected for a performer of Mr. McAuliffe's supposed status at one time," said Gerstenkom apologetically. "Do let me show them to you nonetheless."
    "That would be," said Ben, "very nice."
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    A few minutes shy of midnight a light, misty rain started to fall. H.J. gave Ben a poke in the ribs. "The place's been empty for a half hour. We can make our move."
    Yawning, he sat up a bit straighter on the car seat and peered down across the weedy hillside field toward the Wee Chapel in the Glen Funeral Home. It sat a quarter of a mile below the wooded area where they'd been parked for the past few hours. "What you're contemplating is called breaking and entering."
    "We're not going to break in," she said, reaching up to flip the switch on the overhead light so that it wouldn't flash to life when she opened the door. "I already told you that, while you were chatting with Mr. Gerstenkom this afternoon, I slipped that folded up business card of his in a side door so that it wouldn't close completely."
    "There's still the question of illegal entry."
    "Well, a funeral chapel is pretty damn close to being a church, and you can enter a church anytime you want." Turning the handle, she inched the door open. "That's known as the law of sanctuary and it's been in effect for hundreds of years."
    "Looting a coffin, on the other hand, is still frowned on by the majority of the world's faiths." Yawning twice more, scratching at his lower ribs, he stumbled out into the new rain. "Suppose there's a burglar alarm?"
    "There isn't. I made sure of that this afternoon." She strode across the wet sidewalk and entered the grassy field. Stuck in her purse was the flashlight she'd bought that afternoon. "The cops who patrol this area won't roll by again for another twenty-two minutes."
    He followed her. "You logged their car every time it passed down there?"
    "I'm fairly efficient, a fact that you never fully appreciated."
    "You sure used to manage your affairs efficiently—"
    "We better go the rest of the way in silence, to be on the safe side."
    "Folks," he said in his sincere testimonial voice, "I went from respected actor to detested ghoul in just twenty-four hours. You can, too."
    "Hush up."
    The rain drizzled on Ben, insinuating itself down his collar and under his cuffs. There was a musty, earthy odor rising up from the weedy ground.
    A single light showed at the front of the slant-roofed chapel, illuminating a few of its imitation stained glass windows. H.J. made her way along the shadowy rear of the building and then around to the far side. She slowed, then stopped beside a wooden door. "Here's the one we want." Reaching out, she took hold of the knob to turn it slowly and carefully.
    The door opened inward silently. The wadded up business card hit the hardwood floor with a faint tick. She hesitated and then, like someone balanced on the edge of a high board, took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
    Ben slipped into the dark corridor behind H.J. and shut the door at his back.
    "Here, you use this." She slapped the flash into his palm. He snapped it on. "Minichapel 3 is this way."
    H.J. took hold of his arm and they moved ahead, following the yellowish beam of the brand new flashlight.
    The night rain made faint pattering noises on the shingled roof. The shadows in the hall gave off the familiar flowers and polish smell, with the scent of some sort of harsh chemical added.
    At the entrance to the small chapel where McAuliffe and his dummy lay, H.J. took back the flash and shot the beam in the direction of the coffin stand.
    "Oh, shit," she remarked after a few