CHAPTER TEN: Don’t Latch On
When Blair opened the envelope, he recognized one of Cal Maxwell’s red felt instrument holders. Untying the black string, he unrolled the set and found a fine assortment of restorative instruments: a dycal applicator, an amalgam carrier, pluggers and carvers, college pliers, a plastic instrument, and several spoon escavators. A mouth mirror and a couple of explorers were on the end. On top of those was a pair of wire cutters.
Tossing the envelope into a nearby garbage can and then rolling and tying the instruments up again, Blair stuffed them inside his back pocket. To his horror, he saw Officer Follen coming up the street while flipping a baton. Another confrontation with Follen was something he wanted to avoid, so he went inside a candy store and then darted out of a door on the opposite side. After walking down the street, he soon hustled inside another store. The object was to get to where he was going while staying out of Follen’s sight.
Blair used most of the change he had left to ride a bus out of Detroit. It had been almost a year since he’d last seen Thomas Abbott. Blair had met Thomas for the first time thirteen years ago at the University of Michigan. They had graduated at the same time, Blair with a degree in biology and Thomas with a bachelors in mineralogy. Thomas had been on his mind quite often recently, especially since finding out that Cynthia’s killer was a lapidary.
After riding the bus as far west as it would go, Blair had to transfer to another bus. Even so, the second ride fell short of Thomas’s house, but Blair didn’t mind walking the extra five miles out. The day was still bright and sunny, but the air felt cool. It was a good time to be outdoors, and it was the first time in the last few days that he didn’t feel weak or ill.
When he reached Thomas’s house, he hesitated at the base of the front steps. He promised himself to keep quiet about what he knew of the murders and simply insist that all he needed was a place to clean up for Cynthia’s wake this evening. He was looking for something, but right now even he didn’t know what that was.
He looked like the tramp that he was. Glancing down, he examined more of himself than he cared to: dirty, sunburned arms dusted with light brown freckles, long fingernails with loads of debris caked under them, and his shoes! His Loafers were gaping now around both big toes and scuffed up with the soles worn through, especially around the balls of his feet.
Just as he decided that perhaps visiting Thomas wasn’t such a good idea after all, a familiar voice said, “Long time, no see.”
Blair backed away from the porch and paused, staring at the ground. “It has been a while,” he said, finally looking over at Thomas’s triangular grin and happy, blue eyes.
“Where’ve you been, man? I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’ve been hanging out here and there.”
“I heard you lost your job.”
“Yeah, well, the boss fired me but I had it coming. He could only take so much of his associates extracting the wrong teeth.”
“I didn’t ask about Driscall, I asked about you,” Thomas said, making Blair smile. He really needed to hear stuff like that.
Thomas reached over to shake Blair’s hand and gladly he obliged. Thomas’s close-cropped hair glistened in the sunlight, well doused with perspiration. “All the drinking was a factor in your dismissal, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Blair said. “It’s brought me down to depths I never knew existed.”
“Why did you let it happen?” Thomas asked, stepping closer and holding a pair of soiled work gloves. There was dirt on his jeans and he had a trowel in his hand.
“I wasn’t thinking straight. Besides, I didn’t let it happen, it just happened.”
“Man, I haven’t been to the dentist since you quit. I just don’t trust anybody else. If you don’t start practicing again, I’m never going back.”
“Thomas, my boy, you are a periodontist’s dream. Gum disease will end up being your best friend.”
“Impossible. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
Blair raised his hands in mock distress. “Don’t latch on, or I’ll take you down with me!”
Thomas’s smile faded and so did Blair’s. “Damn liquor,” Thomas said.
“You know I can handle my liquor. I used to drink you under the table any day of the week.”
“Used to,” Thomas said, trailing off. Blair understood that Thomas didn’t believe the same to be true now. “Where are you staying?”
“On the street.”
“Oh God, no! Stay here with me, man. I’ve got plenty of room.”
“What about Ingrid?”
“She’ll understand.”
“Three’s a crowd,” Blair said, wiping his mouth with his hand. It was shaking badly now, so he slipped it inside his pocket and hoped Thomas hadn’t noticed. “What I could use is a shower and a shave.”
“You’ve got it,” Thomas said without hesitating.
“May I borrow a change of clothes, too? I’d like to go to Cynthia Maxwell’s viewing tonight, but not like this.” He emphasized the tattered Armani suit he was wearing with outstretched hands.
“Of course. Come on in.” Thomas led the way, putting his arm around Blair’s shoulders as they walked together. He tossed the work gloves and trowel onto the porch.
Seeing the walls populated with artifacts and collectibles from Thomas’s various expeditions relaxed Blair. Blair paused in front of one of the display cases, examining each gemstone with great fascination. Most of them didn’t appear to be of very high quality, although a few seemed pretty nice. Each of the stones was labeled, so Blair didn’t have to guess what they were. There was a lump of marble speckled with bluish-red corundum, two dozen cloudy-looking rubies each under a carat, limestone streaked with bright green beryl, uncut sapphires, rhodolite garnets, spinels, and diamonds, all of which would only appeal to a rock and mineral aficionado.
Thomas unlocked the case and opened up the top. He had plenty of samples native to Michigan, most notably the state’s gemstone, the Isle Royale greenstone. Blair picked up a sample of Petoskey stone and ran his thumb over some of the gray speckles. Putting it back, he then concentrated on the rest of the collection.
“I like that micro display of red spinel,” Blair said, “and that transparent topaz.” He smiled. “Nice, buddy.”
“Check out my amber collection. The one on the left has a dozen termites in it, and the one in the middle has a spider.”
“Unbelievable. What’s that in the third? A pine cone?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where did you get these?”
“Rock and gem shows. The amber came from a show in Flint. I nabbed the topaz in Virginia.”
“What’s the matrix? Feldspar?”
“Yes, pegmatite.” Thomas smiled, his triangular grin deeply set above an equally triangular chin. The tips of his ears were elfin-like, coming to points as they protruded away from his head. His short hair accentuated the effect. “I’m happy to see that you haven’t been too busy to remember the glory of minerals.”
“I’ll never forget that stuff,” Blair said. “Hiddenite, lapis lazuli, bloodstone….. These blue sapphires are new, too,” Blair observed.
“Yes, Ingrid and I vacationed in North Carolina last summer. We spent most of the time rock hunting along the Great Smokies.”
Blair glanced at Thomas from over his shoulder. “I’ll bet she loved that,” he said.
“Well yes, she did,” Thomas said, sitting down on the arm of a lounge chair after making sure that the back of his trousers weren’t dirty. “Besides wallowing in red clay she never could wash out of her clothes, she got a ruby bracelet out of the deal.”
“No kidding? You found red corundum nice enough to cut?”
“Sure did.”
“Where?”
“Several surface mines in the Cowee Valley. That’s in Macon County. We found a ruby that was over three and a half carats before it was cut.”
“You’re shitting me!”
Thomas smiled again
. “No, I’m not. North Carolina is hot right now. People are crowding in. They’ve got the flumes working overtime because the alluvial deposits are brimming. You should come with us the next time we go.”
“For a ruby that weighs over three carats? No thanks,” Blair said, turning away from the display case and facing Thomas.
“Why not?”
“If I got my hands on stones worth a couple of thousand dollars each, they’d have to bury me next to Cynthia. I’d only use the money to drink myself to death.”
“You should dry out, Blair,” Thomas said, looking concerned.
“Well, that’s right. I should. But that’s easier said than done.”
“It’s good that you can admit you have a problem. If there’s anything I can do….”
“Thanks, man.”
Thomas got up and went into the kitchen. When he returned, he had a large pear in his hand and he promptly tossed to Blair. Blair caught it and wiped off the smooth, reddish-brown skin with his hands. As he took a bite, Thomas said, “Just help yourself to the shower. I’ll lay out a nice black suit and tie for you to wear.”
“Thanks, Thomas. I really appreciate this.”
“I expect to see you back here after the wake. I insist that you at least spend the night.”
Blair smiled as he started chomping on the pear again. “It’ll be nice having a place to come back to,” he said, wiping some of the juice away from his lips.