Jamie Brodie 02 - Hoarded to Death

of the room, wondering what the hell had just happened.
    I got settled in bed and was reading when Pete stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing his hair dry. He hung up his towel and slid into bed. "You know, I've been thinking about who might have been the junk man's accomplice."
    I chuckled, reli eved that we weren't going to talk about mine vs. ours issues. "That's the ex-cop coming out of you."
    "Yeah, I guess." Pete rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his elbow. "I left the force before I got to be a detective. I think I would have enjoyed it. Anyway...let's think logically. That box was buried under five years' worth of junk. Who could have known it was there?"
    "Hmm. Okay. Jennifer got the boxes of books when her aide died. Miss Lucille told Jennifer that she didn’t have any family, but maybe that wasn’t true. Or maybe she was estranged from the family. In her mind, she didn’t have any family, but there are relatives out there who know about the boxes."
    "Sure. That's one possibility." Pete rolled onto his back, reached into the drawer of his bedside table, and pulled out a small spiral notebook and a pen. I raised my eyebrows. "I didn't know you had anything but condoms in there."
    "Ha ha." Pete grinned. "This is to record any strokes of genius that might occur in this location."
    "Right. Not much recorded yet, I see."
    Pete smirked. "I've been busy with other things in this location recently." He turned to a clean page and started a list. "Okay. Number one, did Miss Lucille have any family, and if so, did they know about the boxes. Who else?"
    I mused. " Jennifer could have told someone. I don't know who, though. Someone that she works with? But again, even Jennifer didn't know exactly what was in the boxes. All she knew was what the old lady had told her."
    "Right. But it's still a possibility, however unlikely." Pete made another note. "Could anyone associated with the TV show have known?"
    "I don’t see how. Jennifer would have to have told them, and she apparently didn’t know."
    "And what about Wally himself? Was he the one who made the initial discovery, then alerted someone else? We don't know anything about his background, either. He could be an unemployed rare books dealer, or something like that."
    " True. He didn't look like a career junk man."
    "No, he didn't. He was too clean. Although that's a stereotype, isn't it?"
    "Yep. I had no idea you harbored these prejudices against junk men."
    Pete laughed. "Neither did I. Did you talk to Wally at all on Saturday?"
    "Not really, not beyond a few interactions like 'You got that?' and 'Thanks.' Did you?"
    "Nope, not even to that extent. I don't remember hearing him talk much to anyone."
    "Me either. We were all too busy hauling junk to talk much." I yawned. "Did you notice anyone working in that area in particular? Over where those particular boxes were?"
    "No. I don't remember anyone being in that corner for any length of time. We didn’t even uncover those boxes."
    " Right." I frowned. "But Eckhoff said there were several boxes open. Like the guy or guys had been looking for something specific in one of the boxes. So they must have known what they were looking for, but they didn't know exactly where it was."
    "But they had a pretty good idea. There were a lot of boxes in there, and they must have narrowed it down pretty quickly."
    "Yeah. Which makes me think that they were concentrating on the ones that came from Miss Lucille’s attic. Which brings us back to either the old lady's family, or someone that Jennifer told."
    "Yeah. But how could Jennifer have told anyone about anything as specific as an illuminated manuscript, if she'd never opened the boxes?"
    I shook my head. "She couldn't."
    "So Belardo and Eckhoff are probably concentrating on the old lady's family or estate."
    "Yep. She died about five years ago, according to Jennifer. Do you suppose the executor of the estate would have done an inventory before they released the boxes?"
    "I have no idea." Pete rolled back over and put the notebook and pen on his nightstand, then rolled back to face me. " So we're right back where we started."
    "Right. And that's exactly nowhere."
    That night, I dreamed that when we opened Jennifer’s apartment door, the place was full of monks, bent over desks, producing illuminated manuscripts.

    The next day I had lunch with Liz and told her about my conversation with Pete about the townhouse. “I’ve got to make a decision about giving up the