"I,ll be careful," Reuben said. "But it really wasn,t a mountain lion."

"And how do you know that, son?" the man asked.

Why was he arguing? Why was he even saying a word? Let the old man believe what he wanted to believe. Isn,t that what everybody was doing?

"Because I would have smelled it if it had been a mountain lion," he confessed, "and the scent would have been on the dead men and on me."

The man pondered that for a moment, reluctantly, but seemingly honestly. He shook his head. "Well, she got my dog," he confessed, "and I,m going to kill her just the same."

Reuben nodded.

The old man started up the broad oak stairway.

"Did you hear about that poor little girl in Marin County?" Galton asked over his shoulder.

Reuben murmured that indeed he had.

He could scarce breathe. But he wanted to see everything, yes, every single thing.

The place looked so clean, polished floorboards gleaming on either side of the old Oriental carpet. The little candlelike sconces were all lighted as they had been that first night.

"You can put me in that last bedroom back there," he said. This was the last one at the end of the western hall, Felix,s old room.

"You don,t want the master bedroom on the front of the house? Gets a lot more sun, that front room. Beautiful front room."

"Not sure yet. This is fine for now."

The man led the way, snapping on the light quickly enough as though he was entirely familiar with the house.

The bed was freshly made up with a cheap flowered polyester bedspread. But Reuben found fresh sheets and pillowcases underneath and some very old but clean towels in the bathroom.

"My wife did the best she could," said Galton. "The bank wanted the place decent, they said, soon as the police released the crime scene."

"Gotcha," said Reuben.

The man was cheerful and kind, but Reuben wanted this part of it all to be over.

They walked through a number of the rooms, chatted, talked about simple repairs, a doorknob here, a window painted shut there, some Sheetrock crumbling in a bathroom.

The master bedroom was indeed impressive, with its original brilliant flowered William Morris wallpaper, and the best bedroom on the front of the house.

It occupied the southwest corner, had windows on two sides and a very spacious marble bathroom with a windowed shower. The fire had been lighted there especially for Reuben, in the big deep stone hearth beneath the scrollwork mantel.

"In the old days, there was an iron stairs in that left corner," said Galton, "that went up to the attic room above. But Felix couldn,t have that. He had to be private up there and he made his nephew and his nephew,s wife take out that stairs." Galton enjoyed the role of tour guide. "All this is the original furniture, you know." He pointed to the huge walnut bed. "That,s Renaissance Revival, broken-arch style. You see those urn finials? That headboard,s nine feet, solid walnut. Those are burl panels." He gestured to the marble-top dresser. "Broken-arch style," he said pointing to the high mirror. "And that,s the original washstand too. Berkey and Gay made this furniture in Grand Rapids. Same with that table. Don,t know where the big leather chair came from. Marchent,s father loved that chair. Had his breakfast up here every morning, with the papers. Somebody had to go get the papers. Nobody would deliver them out here. These are real American antiques. This house was built for furniture like this. It was Felix who brought in all the European furniture in the library and great room downstairs. That Felix was a Renaissance man."

"That I can see," said Reuben.

"We fixed up this room special for you with the best sheets. Everything you need is in the bathroom. Those flowers on the table came from my garden," he said.

Reuben was grateful, and he said so. "I,ll make my way here eventually," he said. "It,s surely the best room in the house."

"It,s the best view of the sea, from here," Galton said. "Of course Marchent never used it. It was always her parents, room to her. Her bedroom,s just down the hall."

Shades of Mrs. Danvers, thought Reuben quietly. He felt one of those delicious chills to which he was becoming all the more susceptible. This is my house now, my house.

He wanted so badly for Phil to see this place, but he couldn,t bring Phil up here just now. That was simply out of the question.

The southeast bedroom of the house was just as quaint as the master, and so were the two central front bedrooms that faced south. These three had the heavy impressive Grand Rapids furnishings and the dazzling floral William Morris paper, but the paper was coming down in places and moldy in others, badly in need of repair. None of these bedrooms had been renovated yet, confessed Galton. Didn,t have enough electric outlets, and the fireplaces needed work. And charming as the old bathrooms were, with old pedestal sinks and claw-foot tubs, they would have been uncomfortable to use. "Felix would have gotten to all this," said Galton, shaking his head.

Even the long wide front hallway had a neglected aspect to it with threadbare carpet.

They moved on to several other eastern bedrooms that had the American antiques as well - sometimes massive bedsteads and scatterings of old Renaissance Revival chairs.

"Now all this here is renovated," Galton said proudly, "and all this is wired for cable, every bedroom in the place. You,ve got central heat in these rooms and working fireplaces. Felix saw to that. But Marchent never installed televisions. And the old televisions are long gone. Marchent wasn,t much of a one for television, and, well, after the boys were banned from the place, there just was no point. She brought friends here all the time, of course. Why, she brought a whole club of people here one time from South America. But they didn,t care about television. She said it was just fine."

"You think you could mount a good flat screen for me in that master bedroom, with full cable service?" asked Reuben. "I,m a news junkie. Get the top of the line. Wouldn,t mind a good flat screen in the library downstairs either. And maybe something small in the kitchen. As I said I cook for myself."

"No problem, I,ll get right on it," said Galton with obvious glee.

They went back down the oak stairs, and through the vestibule of death.

"Now, you do know I have two other fellas working with me," said Galton, "and so they,d be in and out of here too, but one,s my cousin and one,s my stepson. It,s the same as having me. We can do just about anything you want done."

They went back downstairs, and Galton showed Reuben proudly how the broken dining room windows had been "restored" so you could hardly tell they were not the originals. And that was no easy thing to do what with diamond-pane leaded glass like this.




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