Chapter 06



“They are.  I’m drowning my sorrows in them,” said Abby.

“Everything all right outside?” asked Mitch.

“It’s all trouble you don’t want any part of,” said Abby.

Mitch raised his beer up to his chest, cocked his eyebrow, and with a comical Bogart impression said, “I don’t mind a reasonable amount of trouble.”

“Sam Spade, nice,” said Abby.

“When I was a boy I wanted to be Sam Spade,” said Mitch.  “As far as I was concerned being a private detective was top of the heap.  Do you like Sam Spade?”

“What curator wouldn’t be intrigued by a golden falcon encrusted from beak to claw with rare jewels created by the Knight Templar of Malta in 1539?”

“Touché,” said Mitch.

“Plus there’s Sam Spade, that’s one of my favorite movies of all time.”

“Cheers,” said Mitch.  “Cheers,” said Abby.

“Is the real Maltese Falcon in a museum somewhere?” asked Mitch.

“Not at all,” said Abby, “but it was based on a real sculpture called the Kniphausen Hawk made in 1697.  No romantic story like the Maltese Falcon, but it was still covered in jewels.”

“I’d rather have a good story over the jewels,” said Mitch.

“Agreed,” said Abby.

Mitch finished his beer.  “Can I get you another glass of wine?”

“I would love one. However, after seeing that parking fiasco I’m pretty sure I’m on driving duty,” said Abby.

Across the room Mitch and Abby could see Will’s face glowing as he was describing something to the Lumsdens’.  In an exaggerated gesture Will was making a large circle with his hands from above his head to his waist and then from his chest to the extent of his arms, all the time holding a three quarter full wine glass.  His eyes were fixing to and from Hank and Mary Lumsden’s faces to judge their reaction.  Either they were totally enthralled by the story or waiting for the red wine to come jetting out of the glass straight into there faces.

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