Page 106 of Strangers in Time

“Do you know where Mr. Oliver is?” asked Molly.

“He left the shop around one. Didn’t say a word to me. Just a wave and then he was gone. He looked like he was limping.”

“The bombing last night. He was injured.”

Macklin made a clucking sound that, Molly thought, did not have much actual sympathy behind it. “Poor man. Yes, last night was a corker all right. Thought the ceiling was going to come down on me.”

“You didn’t go to a shelter?”

“I have a basement here. As good as any shelter, I reckon. And I don’t like hiding in the dirt. Doesn’t show proper spirit.”

“Well, if one is dead it doesn’t do much for one’s spirit. Now, I must be off.”

“I did notice what looked to be a police inspector here the other day talking to Ignatius?”

Molly slowly turned back around. “Yes. Someone tried to break into his shop, but nothing was taken.”

“Oh my, those hooligans. Here now, was that tied to what happened with that constable and the lad that got struck by the lorry?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“My, my, how terrible.”

“Yes, yes it was.”

“I also noticed through the glass that you went into the study, Imogen’s study, I always called it. Her father, Mr. Bradstreet, once told me it was her favorite place in the whole bloody world.”

“Yes, I’m sure. Itisvery nice.”

Macklin gave her a cagey look and said, “So did you find what you were looking for in there?”

Molly was disturbed by the woman’s obvious probing, but did her best not to show it. “I was looking for Mr. Oliver. So you knew her father and Imogen?” asked Molly. Yet her unspoken thought was,You know, the woman who thought you an insufferable busybody?

“Oh yes. The bookshop passed to Imogen after her father died. That was when she and Ignatius came to live there.”

“And then she died. How very sad,” said Molly, looking inquiringly at the woman. Molly was now doing some delicate probing of her own.

“Yes, yes, it was quite sad. Now, we didn’t see eye to eye on much. She was Labour and I’m a Conservative, as was my father and grandfather. She liked to read all the time, but I think books can do odd things to folks. Look at that one Hitler wrote, I forget the name. You think he didn’t change some minds with that rubbish?”

“But other books thoroughly refuted all of which he argued,” countered Molly.

“I guess it comes down to what you read and what you believe from what you read, eh?”

“Yes, I suppose it does.”

“And it seems Germany believeshim,” said Macklin.

“I think some of them may not have a choice in the matter.”

“Murderers, all of them!” exclaimed Macklin. “Look at last night. Bloody heathens.”

“Um, did you go to Imogen’s funeral?”

Macklin placed a malicious stare on Molly. “There was none.”

“I’m sorry?”

“There was no funeral because there was no body to bury.”

---