when they said the coppers were on their way, that man was ready to fly the coop. He was the first one out the door."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Auntie Lil scolded him. "He was stealing her pocketbook. He was picking the bones of a corpse!"
The old man looked a bit taken aback by the sudden intrusion of corpse bones, but he was not fazed by Auntie Lil's dramatic indignation. "Weren't my business," he explained patiently. "Weren't my business at all. But look out. There's always trouble when the eagle gets loose among the lambs." He returned to his stew and thoughtfully chewed on a chunk of gray meat, staring up at them impassively with very bright eyes.
"This mysterious man was the eagle, not the lamb? Correct?" T.S. asked drily. Much to his chagrin, Auntie Lil brightened up at once, apparently feeling it was an excellent question.
"He was The Eagle, all right," the old fellow announced ominously. He tapped a fist against the biceps of his right arm and nodded sagely. "He was The Eagle."
"The Eagle?" T.S. smiled at him grimly and thanked the old man for his time. Gripping Auntie Lil's elbow, he dragged her firmly away to the privacy of a kitchen corner. "Short of treating me to a real-life cross between Dr. Doolittle and a Charles Dickens character, what was the purpose of that little display?" he asked crossly.
"He saw who stole the pocketbook," Auntie Lil insisted, rubbing her elbow and glaring at him pointedly.
T.S. shook his head and ignored her silent admonishment. Physical containment was the only way to control Auntie Lil. "Auntie Lil," he told her, "as much as I admire your uncompromising honesty, I don't think the police are going to be too interested in trying to prosecute a thief who steals an empty pocketbook from a dead woman that nobody knows." He shrugged. "Let's just clean up, forget about the pocketbook and get ready for what will surely be a lighthearted evening popping in at the morgue in preparation for your latest goose chase."
His nervousness at seeing Lilah Cheswick prompted an enthusiastically sarcastic tone. But the only trouble with being sarcastic when talking to Auntie Lil was that she always cheerfully agreed that it was all too, too true.
By the time T.S. and Auntie Lil had helped the other volunteers scrub down the counters and wash the dishes, it was nearly six o'clock. Lilah was due to arrive any moment and T.S. scurried to the bathroom to do what he could, with what he had left, in the way of physical attributes.
Actually, he didn't look too bad for a man who'd just turned fifty-five. Perhaps the dim bathroom lighting helped, but there were far fewer wrinkles on his strong German face than was the case with many of his friends. In fact, he suspected that a couple of wrinkles had disappeared since he'd retired from his stress-filled job as personnel manager of a Wall Street private bank. He smoothed the skin over his broad cheeks and carefully scrubbed the oil and dirt until he glowed with pink-fleshed health. He did not like to admit it, but he bore a remarkable resemblance to Auntie Lil. In fact, a friend had once correctly commented that Auntie Lil looked exactly like T.S. might look if he were in drag. T.S. had not appreciated the remark.
He'd had the foresight to bring along a clean shirt. Immaculate personal grooming, T.S. believed, was the essential mark of a civilized man. He changed quickly, taking the opportunity to suck in his small gut and compare it in the mirror to what he'd seen a few weeks before. Yes, he was almost certain he'd managed to lose a pound or two. If he held his breath and threw his shoulders back, he looked no worse than he had a decade ago. Of course, he couldn't walk or breathe posed like that, plus his hair had turned an indisputable gray… but at least there was plenty of it. He'd taken to wearing it a bit longer now that he no longer had to march in uniformed lockstep with the rest of the Wall Street crowd. Secretly, he believed he looked a bit like an older version of that movie star, Richard Gere, but had yet to summon the courage to ask any friends whether they agreed.
There was a vigorous pounding at the door. "What are you doing in there?" Auntie Lil demanded. "Lilah is waiting for us outside."