Thirteen Diamonds

table. Sandra and Mark drank beer, supplied by me. I drank iced tea. Winston sat on the floor putting geometric shapes into a wooden puzzle. I was happy to see that he apparently had my mathematical ability. King played with Albert's dog outside. Albert was returning the rental truck.
    We had all been slaving since dawn on the kind of humid day that made me wish I had a container of ice water strapped to my back with a hose leading into my mouth. All my belongings were now either here or in storage. At least the storage charges would be much less than the monthly bill at Silver Acres.
    Sandra and Mark were dressed almost like twins, in sweaty T-shirts, shorts and sneakers. I still call them sneakers, although for the price people pay for them I guess I should use one of the fancier names invented by the shoe companies.
    The kids looked cute together and it relieved me that they appeared to be getting along very well with each other. At the moment they were playing kneesie. However, I suspected that it was too soon to send out the wedding announcements.
    I hadn't mentioned April's visit to Sandra because I didn't know what, if anything, Mark had told Sandra about her. He hadn't told me not to talk about her, which I considered a good sign, but once in a while I can be discreet.
    “My case fell apart,” I said, not directly answering either of their questions. I briefly described my meeting with Ellen.
    “An alibi!” Mark exclaimed in mock despair. “That's not supposed to happen. Do you trust this guy...Wesley, is that his name?”
    “Wesley, yes. And yes, I trust him.” Even though he had been accused of having an affair with Ida, which might in some strange way have given him a motive for killing Gerald. In which case he might be using Ellen as an alibi and he might have put the shellfish in the casserole. No, that was too ridiculous and I was on the verge of losing it. Maybe I should just give Albert my power of attorney now and turn into a vegetable.
    Sandra asked me again about caving in so easily to Carol Grant. I didn't want to implicate Albert so I said, “Maybe it's not such a bad thing that I left Silver Acres. This murder investigation has become an obsession with me. It's time I got away from it for a while.”
    “But what will you do here?” Sandra asked. “You'll be alone all day, except for the dogs. And most of your friends live at Silver Acres.”
    “I can always weed the flowers or the vegetable garden. And since I haven't been permanently banished from the premises of Silver Acres I can still go there and visit my friends. And there are lots of books I want to read....” I stopped, at a loss for words. I wouldn't admit it, but Sandra's question had been nagging at me all day.
    “You need something stimulating to do to keep your brain working,” Mark said. “Like crossword puzzles. Otherwise, you'll get senile.”
    “I'm better at math puzzles than crossword puzzles.”
    “Okay, here's one for you. You have 12 metal balls and a balance scale. The balls look identical but one is heavier or lighter than the others. Using the balance scale for no more than three weighings, determine which is the odd ball and whether it is heavier or lighter than the others.”
    “I think I'm the oddball,” I said. “Okay, I'll work on in my copious free time.”
    The front door closed and two playful dogs burst into the kitchen, looking for attention, followed by Albert. Albert had the smile of a man who has just accomplished something that is giving him a great deal of pleasure. I suspected what he had accomplished was getting me where he could keep an eye on me so I would stop embarrassing him with Carol.
    “I'll get you a beer, Dad,” Sandra said, going to the refrigerator.
    “Thanks. I need one,” Albert said, reclining in one of the padded chairs.
    He had on the standard shorts and T-shirt uniform, but had sweat somewhat more than the rest of us. As the only Morgan with a potbelly he could use some regular exercise. His weekly tennis games weren't enough.
    “I want to take this opportunity to thank all of you for helping move me today,” I said, trying to be sincere. “And Albert, thank you for letting me have the downstairs bedroom so I don't have to cart my old bones up and down stairs all the time.”
    “I know you can still climb stairs, Mother,” Albert said, “so you don't have to rub it in. But I do think you're better off on the first floor.”
    “There's one more thing we