Death Is a Cabaret

by Deborah Morgan

  When Jeff went back downstairs, Greer was waiting beside the car.

  “Greer, would it offend your butler’s principles if I drove?”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  At the end of two blocks, Jeff said, “Are you uncomfortable riding? You keep looking at me.”

  Greer hesitated, then said, “If I may ask, sir, what happened to your cheek?”

  Jeff touched the scab. The brief altercation in the Rosalyn Carter Suite seemed decades ago. “You should see the other guy.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Greer, do you think you could drop the ‘sir’ for tonight? It’s beginning to make me feel damned old.”

  “I’ll try, sir.”

  Jeff heard music coming from upstairs. He found Sheila curled up in bed, watching a movie. On-screen, Christopher Reeve, in the costume of an Edwardian gentleman, was kissing Jane Seymour. It was Somewhere in Time. Sheila was crying.

  Jeff joined her on the bed and handed her a tissue from the nightstand. “Honey, you’ve seen this movie a dozen times. I’ve never seen you cry over it before.”

  “I’m not crying over the damned movie.”

  He felt tired. He’d hoped they’d left the tension behind. “Are you still upset about before?”

  “Not with you. I’m so glad you’re home.”

  He put his arm around her. She leaned against him. “I just want to get better, Jeff.”

  “I know.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Jeff parked the woodie, retrieved the case from the back, and walked the half block to the front entrance of All Things Old.

  It seemed like ten years had passed since he’d left here Thursday evening.

  Trudy was waiting for him as planned. She ushered him into her office next to Blanche’s and stood watch at the door as he unpacked the pieces.

  Constantly he reminded himself to remain steady as, one by one, he took each item from its protective wrapping and placed it on the large worktable. Then he assembled the pieces for presentation.

  “Here she comes!” Trudy whispered excitedly.

  Jeff followed suit, whispering, “Tell me when she’s inside.”

  Trudy nodded.

  After a moment, she turned. “Okay, she’s in her office. Are you ready?”

  Jeff exhaled, steadied himself. “I’m ready.”

  Trudy held the door open for Jeff as he maneuvered his way through the opening and into the corridor. He held back, then, while Trudy knocked.

  “Come in.” Blanche’s voice sounded muffled, distracted, and Jeff knew that she’d already buried her head in the shop’s ledgers. He followed Trudy inside.

  Blanche was seated behind her desk, slippered feet planted as always upon her tapestry footstool. Her fiery red hair was piled high in curls that bobbed as she turned her head from receipts to columns and back again.

  Something ached inside Jeff. How could he have ever suspected this virtuous woman of spying on him?

  “Mrs. Appleby,” Trudy said, “you may want to get out your checkbook. Mr. Talbot was high bidder on an auction item you’ll be interested in.”

  Blanche looked up. Her jaw dropped, then clamped back shut. She clasped a delicate hand to her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes. At last, when she was able to speak, the words came out quietly and a little pinched by emotion.

  “Oh my, oh my,” she said.

  Trudy, who’d been grinning broadly, suddenly burst into tears. With one hand she held the large frames of her glasses away from her cheeks and with the other dabbed at her eyes with a linen handkerchief.

  Jeff placed the cabaret set on Blanche’s desk. He swallowed hard, and a long moment passed before he could speak. “Have tea with us, won’t you, Blanche?”

  Blanche Appleby looked up at him with all the innocence and wonder of a child and nodded.

  RECOMMENDATIONS FROM JEFFREY TALBOT

  Dear Reader

  As I replace reference books on the shelves of my library, I am compelled to share with you some comments on a few volumes you might enjoy. For those of you interested in learning more about antiques—or, more specifically, about some of the areas of collecting mentioned in my quest to attain Blanche’s cabaret set—I encourage you to check out the following list. It’s a bibliography of sorts, and includes my comments to help narrow your focus, if need be.

  Sheila tells me there is such a thing as a “webliography” as well, and has asked that I list a few of her favorite web sites. (The things we do for love.)

  Although Blanche’s tea room, The Cabbage Rose, offers a near-infinite variety of coffees (thank God), it boasts many flavors of tea as well. As you’ve guessed by now, Blanche personally bucks our city’s coffee tradition by consistently choosing leaves over beans. Since my trip centered around a tea set, I’ve agreed to include a couple of Blanche‘s favorite books on the ceremony of tea. (The things we do for friendship.)

  By the way, I’ve shared my coffee bean combo with Blanche. She has named it “Jeffrey’s Blend” and has added it to the tea room’s menu.

  Gordy Easthope and I are planning a fishing trip. Maybe I’ll have a fish story or two to share with you next time out.

  Meanwhile, best of luck keeping track of the bodies.

  Jeff Talbot

  The book in which Blanche found the pram is Fine Wicker Furniture, 1870-1930, by Tim Scott (Schiffer Publishing, 1990). It includes history, many color photographs, and a price guide. Remember to check publication dates and allow for changing market trends when considering the value of a piece you find listed in any book.

  Antiques Roadshow Primer, edited by Carol Prisant (Workman Publishing, 1999). This volume from the hit PBS television show lives up to its name and is a great introductory guide. The show has become so popular, in fact, that its concept has been the subject of episodes of such popular sitcoms as Frasier and Will & Grace. (Since Sheila is housebound, we watch a lot of television and movies.)

  The two books I found in Frank Hamilton’s room are The Bulfinch Illustrated Encyclopedia of Antiques, Paul Atterbury and Lars Tharp, consulting editors (Bulfinch Press, First North American Paperback Edition, 1998), and Warman‘s English & Continental Pottery & Porcelain (3rd Edition), by Susan and Al Bagdade (Krause Publications, 1998). I find the Bulfinch volume to be a constant source of valuable information about everything from porcelain to furniture. Wonderfully categorized, it offers history, time line charts, and a wealth of color photographs. Warman’s is a price guide with valuable information, including maker’s marks and histories.

  If my pursuit of the cabaret set whetted your appetite for more about Napoleon and Josephine, I recommend the definitive biography, Napoleon Bonaparte, by Alan Schom (HarperCollins, 1997).

  Although Inkwells II, by Veldon Badders (Collector Books, 1997), doesn’t include as much historical information as I’d like, its color photographs are a true feast for the collector.

  Objects of Desire, by Thurman Freund (Penguin, 1995). If you have no interest in antiques, this book will make you a believer. If you love the antique world, it will increase your enthusiasm. This tale of the history, rediscovery, and eventual fate of a number of pieces is as gripping and suspenseful as any best-selling thriller.

  Walkingsticks, by Ulrich Klever (Schiffer Publishing, 1996; originally Verlag Georg D. W. Callwey, Munich, 1984). A prize, this one. Rich in information and wonderful photographs. Walkingsticks will provide a solid ground of information about the cane as weapon, musical instrument, automaton, and smoking accoutrement. Includes a value guide.

  Note: The late W. Stewart Woodfill, former owner of the Grand Hotel, amassed a collection of 222 walking sticks, of which 133 are displayed at the hotel in a custom-designed English mahogany cabinet. Woodfill bristled when people referred to them as canes, stating, “Canes are for invalids.”

  A favorite publication of mine, the monthly Maine Antique Digest. M.A.D. (published by Samuel Pennington), offers articles about the industry, photos of antiques, prices that will gi
ve you a general idea of the market, and an extensive calendar of shows and auctions.

  The cookbook I picked up at the fort is titled History from the Hearth: A Colonial Michilimackinac Cookbook, by Sally Eustice (Mackinac State Historic Parks, 1997). Sheila’s thrilled with this impressive publication and plans to try out some of the eighteenth-century recipes soon. (I’ve requested that she skip the muskrat stew.)

  As you’ve now learned, I have a passion for cuff links. One of my favorite books is Cuff Links, by Susan Jonas and Marilyn Nissenson (Harry N. Abrams, Inc., paperback edition, 1999). Although this book does not give values or specific guidelines for cuff link identification, I recommend it as a visual and historical introduction. It offers nearly 200 color plates, many of which showcase the links on shirting fabric.

  Asia Graham’s account of her extensive collection of black memorabilia intrigued me, so I picked up The Art and History of Black Memorabilia, by Larry Vincent Buster (Clarkson N. Potter, Inc., 2000). This impressive-looking work comes highly recommended by Whoopi Goldberg, Ossie Davis, and various experts in the field.

  Blanche says that Victoria: The Charms of Tea (Hearst Books, 1991) not only includes mouthwatering recipes but also shares excerpts from novels on the custom of tea. The Pleasures of Afternoon Tea, by Angela Hynes (HP Books, 1987), shares a well-grounded history as well as suggestions for establishing the taking of tea and many recipes.

  It turns out Cal Brookner is a barbecue connoisseur. His favorite book is the Jack Daniel’s Old Time Barbecue Cookbook, by Vince Staten (Sulgrave Press, 1995). Rich with folklore, over one hundred color photos, and a large variety of recipes, this book offers a thick, juicy slice of Americana.

  Sheila uses Le Cordon Bleu at Home (Hearst Books, 1991) for many of her French dishes, including the coq au vin and pear tart she was preparing before I left for Michigan.

  Ben Hurst mentioned two books while telling me about his sports collection. The 2000 Sports Collectors Almanac, from the editors of Sports Collectors Digest, is his main source for information on new cards to add to his collection. Showcasing the greatest collection of baseball memorabilia ever owned by an individual is Barry Halper Collection of Baseball Memorabilia, edited by Peter Golenbock, Yogi Berra, Ted Williams, and Selby Kiffer. The boxed edition includes three volumes.

  Jennifer Hurst’s contribution is Hollywood Dressed and Undressed: A Century of Cinema Style, by Sandy Schreier, with commentaries by Loretta Young and Bette Midler (Rizzoli International Publications, 1998). She says it’s a must for film buffs and fashion gurus, and pairs classic and current film photographs with anecdotes and facts about favorite Hollywood stars and their unforgettable costumes.

  I couldn’t let you go without pointing you to The Coffee Book: Anatomy of an Industry from Crop to the Last Drop, by Gregory Dicum and Nina Luttinger (New Press, 1999). Great history, well written. Also Seattle Emergency Espresso, by Heather Doran Barbieri (Alaska Northwest Books, 1992), for a neighborhood coffeehouse guide and over a dozen recipes that some were willing to share.

  SHEILA TALBOT’S WEBLIOGRAPHY

  www.deborahmorgan.com

  The author’s web site features links for antiques, recipes from Sheila’s files, and news about the Jeff Talbot mystery series.

  www.drugstore.com

  Health and beauty items, and both prescription and nonprescription drugs.

  www.epicurious.com

  Set up your own on-line recipe box, choosing from over 12,000 recipes. Conduct word searches too.

  www.nationalwoodieclub.com

  A great site for news about classic woodies, regional and national events, and the club’s monthly publication, Woodie Times.

  www.maloneysonline.com

  The internet version of Maloney’s Antiques & Collectibles Resource Directory (5th Edition) by David J. Maloney, Jr. (Antique Trader Books, a division of Krause Publications, 1999). Astounding database of clubs, dealers, experts, museums, etc.

  www.travelsmith.com

  Clothing, luggage, and travel accessories.

  www.williams-sonoma.com

  Shopping, recipes, seasonal items, and entertainment suggestions.

  A Preview of THE WEEDLESS WIDOW

  Book 2 of the Antique Lover’s Mystery Series

  CHAPTER ONE

  Fishing can be an important connection between generations, as well as a way to practice good stewardship.

  —Washington State Department of Fish and Wildlife

  Her legs were long and curved and dark as bronze, with smooth knees and slender ankles supported by tiny, delicate feet.

  Jeff Talbot gazed at her and sighed. She looked better than she had in years and, although the cost had been high, it had been worth it.

  She had seven sisters in varying stages of disrepair, but the one standing before him now was the first to have received a facelift.

  The eight matching Chippendale-style chairs were fashioned of mahogany, with cabriole legs and bow-shaped crest rails.

  The chairs weren’t actually period pieces from the latter half of the 1700s, but rather Victorian Revival antiques, so Jeff’s path didn’t lead him to the nearest Antiques Roadshow taping or to any of the top auction houses of New York. Instead, he took them to a man who was a veritable magician with antique furniture. That man had coaxed to the surface the original integrity of the first chair, and he would easily do the same with the others. It didn’t matter that the chairs were 100 years younger than the style from which they’d been copied. Jeff predicted that they would be more valuable than last year’s Pontiac.

  His discovery of the eight side chairs had been a right-place-right-time circumstance.

  But his acquisition of them had come years later.

  He’d happened upon a pack rat of a woman — ancient, even back then coming out of a neglected, abandoned-looking house. Jeff approached her, explained that he was an antiques picker, and inquired whether she had any old items she’d like to get rid of. She’d told Jeff that she lived next door and used this extra house for storage. She’d gone on to explain that she had neither the need nor the desire to sell anything. When Jeff had glanced in the direction she’d indicated as her residence, he’d seen a house in roughly the same condition as the abandoned one. Although he had finally gotten the old woman to accept his business card, he hadn’t expected anything to come of it.

  The phone call he’d received, announcing her death and asking if he might still be interested in “all this junk,” had come from a benefacting grand nephew (the sole survivor, it turned out) who couldn’t wait to be rid of the contents so he could have the structures razed and a prefab erected in time for the holidays as a surprise for his wife and kids.

  Jeff had moved swiftly, scanning the contents of the two houses and offering a price for the lot. The new owner’s eyes lit up like Christmas bulbs, and Jeff scratched out a check.

  He’d felt as if he’d unearthed a stash of presents, each with a gift tag that read, “Happy Holidays, to Jeff.” It was the best deal the picker had made to date.

  He’d taken the chairs to Sam immediately upon discovering the distinctive marks that told him who’d originally crafted them.

  Now, Jeff turned his attention back to the chair that stood before him. “Sam,” he said to the craftsman who’d renovated the piece of furniture, “you’ve outdone yourself. She’s as beautiful as she must’ve been when your great-great grandfather made her nearly a hundred and fifty years ago.”

  Sam Carver beamed, his teeth blindingly white next to his dark skin. Like many middle-aged black men, Sam had a quality of perpetual youth. In fact, he was five years older than Jeff’s thirty-eight. Sam was lean, with arm muscles strung tight from years of carving and sanding and buffing the fine woods of the world. He was a fourth-generation woodcarver and restorer. After the Emancipation Proclamation, Sam’s ancestors had chosen to use their vocation as a last name, rather than their former master’s surname.

  Sam’s talent as a restorer had earned him accola
des from customers on both sides of the Atlantic. The foundation for those skills had been handed down from eldest son to eldest son along with the tools of the trade.

  Those antique tools commanded a higher insurance premium than the building in which Sam worked. By Jeff’s estimation, the hand tools alone — planes, clamps, and vises with elaborately etched brass fittings, rosewood handled chisels and carving tools with warm patinas created over decades by the firm grips of craftsmen — would cost more to replace than a blue-collar worker might earn in a year.

  Over the years, Jeff had been aware of his friend’s desire for a son, the fitting offspring to carry on the family business. And he’d seen Sam’s concern increase as each and every one of the wood carver’s five offspring had come swaddled in pink. Fortunately though, Sam’s middle girl, Maura, had taken to wood carving like a duck to a decoy. She’d practically grown up in Sam’s shop and had officially joined the business when she was sixteen. That was ten years prior — and in the past decade, the Carver business had tripled.

  Jeff nodded appreciatively. Yes, he thought, Sam’s forebears would be proud.

  Sam rubbed his hands on a once-white rag, which now showed various shades of furniture stain, then stroked the chair’s curved back as if she were a lover. “The old gal just needed the touch of a good man, Jeff.”

  “Don’t let Helen hear you talk like that. She’ll suspect you’ve got some young thing on the side.”

  Sam laughed. “My woman knows she’s the only two-legged female I can handle. She’s got nothing to worry about.”