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“Okay, so any ideas who might’ve taken the golden egg?” asked Lucy.
“Like I said, I don’t know why anybody would want it, but there is one guy in town who likes shiny things.”
Lucy ran through the town’s roster in her mind and came up empty. “Likes shiny things?”
Zach’s shoulders shook. “I shouldn’t name names, but Dave Forrest dominates the town’s gold market.”
“The jeweler?”
Zach nodded. “The very man.”
“I’m not going to put that in my story,” said Lucy.
Zach nodded in agreement. “Better not.”
Leaving the shop, Lucy headed for the empty office, where she wrote up the story for Ted’s weekend update. She hadn’t got everybody on his list, but she’d interviewed a good selection. And it wasn’t as if she was going to get any overtime pay, she rationalized, hitting send and heading off to the IGA, determined to salvage what remained of her weekend.
Chapter Five
Bill and Lucy spent most of Sunday cleaning up their yard: picking up fallen sticks and saving them for kindling, raking up old dead leaves, and spreading mulch on the flowerbeds around the house. When she left for work on Monday morning, Lucy surveyed their property with approval, noticing that the crocuses were in bloom, the daffs were budding, and the tulips were already poking green shoots through the mulch. She made a mental note to clip some daffs for an arrangement and checked her watch, reassured that it wasn’t quite eight. Ted had a habit of showing up early on Monday mornings and she didn’t want to be late.
But when she got to the office, Ted glanced at the antique Willard clock on the wall above his roll-top desk and greeted her with a disapproving glare. “About time you showed up,” he growled.
“Well, you know, I did work most of Saturday.”
“Yeah, I got your story. Not quite up to your usual standard. I’d almost think you’re up to something. One of your investigations.”
Lucy didn’t think it wise to respond. She glanced at Phyllis, expecting an eye roll, but instead got a sympathetic smile as she pointed to the Willard clock on the wall. That clock, which had kept perfect time for over a hundred and fifty years, indicated it was a quarter past nine o’clock.
Shocked, Lucy checked her watch again and noticed its hands were showing it still not quite eight. Uh-oh. “I am sorry, Ted,” she said, dropping her bag on her desk and shrugging out of her barn coat, “my watch stopped.” She stuck her arm out for him to see. “It says it isn’t even eight yet.” She sat down at her desk and powered up her PC. “Did I miss anything important? Did they recover the egg?”
“Well, no,” he admitted, somewhat reluctantly. “But that’s not the point. You’re supposed to be here at eight, ready to cover whatever comes up. What if there was a big fire, or a car crash?”
“Well, I guess you could’ve called me on my cell and I would’ve hurried to the scene,” said Lucy, watching the blue circle go round and round. “Come to think of it, Zach Starr said something kind of funny the other day. I asked him what he thought about the theft and he threw out Dave Forrest’s name, suggesting he might’ve taken the egg.”
“Dave?” Ted didn’t sound convinced. He furrowed his brow. “Are you investigating the theft, Lucy? You’re supposed to be covering the Chamber.”
“Well, people are interested and it does come up in conversation. Oddly enough, everyone I’ve talked to has a different suspect.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Phyllis.
“I agree,” said Lucy. “Zach’s a contrarian and he probably picked the least likely person just for the heck of it.”
“To make trouble,” said Phyllis.
“Absolutely,” agreed Lucy. “But if you think about it, the weird thing about the egg theft is that even though it’s valuable it’s very identifiable, which would make it very hard to cash in. Unless, of course, you were someone like Dave who has a lot of industry contacts who handle valuable things like jewelry and objets d’art.”
“That’s right,” said Phyllis, thoughtfully. “He’s got all kinds of stuff in that shop, those Lladró figurines go for big bucks and so does the Waterford crystal.”
“What’s the egg made of?” asked Ted. “Is it actually gold?”
“I have no idea,” admitted Lucy. “I think the finish is gold leaf, but I don’t know what’s under it.” The blue circle had stopped spinning and Lucy clicked on the Google icon, typed Karl Klaus egg sculpture in the search box and hit enter. “According to Wikipedia, his sculptures have a bronze base and various finishes.” She read further. “Oh ho, the eggs aren’t gold leaf at all, they’re actually covered with a base coat of silver and then gold. Real gold.”
“So a skilled artisan could conceivably recover the gold and silver?” asked Ted.
“I don’t know,” admitted Lucy, “but I bet Dave Forrest would know and I do need a new watch battery.”
“I think you should head over there and get that battery,” advised Ted.
