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“Um, let’s see. You went to a meeting? Oh—and they ran out of petit fours! My God, the inhumanity!”
“Randall, stop—this is serious!” she said, hanging her jacket on the rack in the front hall.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You should have said so.” Randall came to attention and made a very serious face. “Seriously—what happened today?”
“My cousin Benjy,” she said, hurrying on into the living room and sitting urgently on a settee. “He died! Benjy is dead!”
“He died at the meeting?” Randall said, sitting next to her. “Right there at the conference table?”
“What? No, of course not,” Katrina said. “He was up on the roof!”
“The meeting was held on the roof?” Randall asked, rubbing a hand through his beard, half genuinely puzzled.
“Stop it, Randall, of course not,” Katrina said. “The meeting was in the boardroom where it always is. Benjy was on the roof—he never made it to the meeting.”
Randall was looking at her with real curiosity now. “Why was Benjy on the roof?” he asked. “Instead of at the meeting?”
“He goes up there to get high,” she said. “Oh—I mean he went up. He’s not going to— He’s dead, Randall!”
Randall shook his head. “I’m sorry, this is— He died from getting high? Was it an overdose? Or poison dope?”
“Randall, the man is dead! My cousin!”
Randall put a comforting hand on her back and rubbed in small circles. “I’m sorry. Were you fond of him?”
“Not really,” Katrina admitted. “He was kind of a borderline black sheep? But he was family, and I’ve known him my whole life.”
“I’m sorry,” Randall repeated. “How did he die?”
“What? Randall—he was on the roof!”
“Is it a very dangerous roof?” Randall asked.
“He fell!” she said. “Of course it’s dangerous!”
“He fell—OFF the roof?” Randall asked.
“Yes, of course.”
He nodded. “I guess that would do it,” he said.
“He must have been so high, he just—I mean, he was probably looking at the lights, you know, after smoking pot? And he must’ve lost his balance, and . . .” Katrina stopped and took a ragged breath. “Anyway,” she said.
After a pause, Randall, still rubbing her back, hesitantly said, “And, um, aside from that—how was the meeting?”
She stared at him, and then, in spite of herself, she giggled. “Shit,” she said, holding a hand to her mouth. “I mean, I shouldn’t—poor Benjy was just . . .” She got herself under control, sighed. “Anyway, with Benjy dead, the museum has a little problem. Because the Iranian crown jewels are coming, and—did I say that part of Benjy’s job was Special Events?”
“You did not say that,” Randall said.
“Well, so we need somebody very experienced in the art world—and we need them now! Because time is running out and there’s so much to—I mean, Benjy liked to do everything at the last minute, so . . .”
“So the last minute is very soon?” Randall asked.
“Practically yesterday,” Katrina said. “And it usually takes weeks and weeks to find the right person for a museum job.”
“Well, I’m sure the right person will turn up,” he said soothingly.
“And of course, technically,” Katrina said, “it has to be somebody in the family. That’s the tradition. Family. Either a blood relative or, you know, by marriage? So that makes it a lot—oh!” Katrina put a hand to her throat and literally bounced into the air. She turned in midair and launched herself at Randall. “Oh, Randall! Of course! I should have thought of it right away!” She hugged him with excitement.
