Time Travelers Never Die Part 44

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine." His heart was pounding.

"You look pale." She frowned, and he could see her make a decision. "Doctor, why don't you tell me what the thief was after?"

Sure. Shel had a time-travel device in there. "I've no idea," he said.

"Okay. The fire happened about 4:30 A.M. Friday morning. I wonder if you'd mind telling me where you were at that time?"

"At home in bed," Dave said.

"And you were here all night, right?"

"Yes," he said, and added, unnecessarily, "asleep."

She nodded.

"You're sure about all this?" asked Dave.

She kept writing. "There's really no question that it was arson. And murder."

Dave was beginning to feel guilty. Authority figures always made him feel guilty.

"And you can't think of anyone anyone who'd want him dead?" who'd want him dead?"

"No."

She tapped her notebook with her pen. "Do you know if he kept any jewelry in the house?"

"I doubt it. He didn't wear jewelry. As far as I know, there was nothing like that around."

Dave started thinking about the gold coins that they always took when they traveled. A stack of them had been stashed in a shoe box in Shel's bedroom closet. (Dave had more of them upstairs in the wardrobe.) Could anyone have known about them? He thought about mentioning them. But they'd be hard to explain. Best keep quiet. And it would make no sense that he knew about a lot of gold coins in Shel's shoe box but had never asked about them.

Her eyes wandered to one of the bookcases. It was filled with biographies and histories of the Renaissance. The eyes were dark and cool, black pools that seemed to be waiting for something to happen. She tilted her head slightly to get a better look at a t.i.tle. It was Ledesma's biography of Cervantes, in the original Spanish. "You speak Spanish?" she asked.

"Yes. More or less."

"Did he also speak Spanish, Doctor?"

"Shel had some some facility." facility."

Howard had gotten tired poking around. He circled back, picked out a chair, and sat down. "Dr. Dryden," Lake continued, "you live alone?"

"That's correct, Lieutenant."

"And you were alone in the house Thursday night?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I take it there's no one who can corroborate any of this?"

"No. There was n.o.body here." The question surprised him. "You don't think I I did it, do you?" did it, do you?"

"We don't really think anybody anybody did it, yet." did it, yet."

Howard caught her attention and directed it toward the wall. There was a photograph of Shel, Helen, and Dave, gathered around a table at the Beach Club. A mustard-colored umbrella shielded the table, and they were laughing and holding tall, cool drinks. She studied it, and turned back to him. "What exactly," she said, "is your relationship with Dr. Suchenko?"

"We're friends."

"Is that all?" She canted her head, and he caught a hint of a smile.

"Yes," he said. "That's all."

She made another notation. Glanced around the room. "Nice house." It was. Dave had treated himself pretty well, installing leather furniture and thick pile carpets and a stowaway bar and some original art. "Not bad for a teacher," she added.

"I manage."

She closed her book and began to b.u.t.ton her jacket. "Thank you, Dr. Dryden." He was still numb with the idea that someone might have murdered Shel. He had never flaunted his money, had never even moved out of that jerkwater town house. Possibly he'd come home from somewhere, and they were already in the house. He might even have been using the converter. d.a.m.n, what a jolt that would have been: return from an evening in the nineteenth century and get attacked by burglars. So they'd killed him. And burned the house to hide the murder. No reason it couldn't have happened that way.

Dave opened the door for the two detectives. "You will be in the area if we need you?" Lake asked. He a.s.sured her he would be, and that he would do whatever he could to help find Shel's killer.

It had been painful enough believing that Shel had died through some arbitrary act of nature. But it enraged him that a thug who had nothing at all to contribute would dare take his life.

HE attended a Monday evening memorial service for Shel at St. John's Methodist Church. Jerry was a member of the congregation, and had arranged things for his brother, who hadn't paid much attention to churches. Jerry was there, of course. And a few cousins and uncles, and some other people Dave didn't know. The preacher invited those who wished to speak to come forward, and they did. They described a stray cat Shel had taken in, and his two seasons as coach of the Little League Panthers. A member of the local Humane Society said how generous he'd always been both with time and money. attended a Monday evening memorial service for Shel at St. John's Methodist Church. Jerry was a member of the congregation, and had arranged things for his brother, who hadn't paid much attention to churches. Jerry was there, of course. And a few cousins and uncles, and some other people Dave didn't know. The preacher invited those who wished to speak to come forward, and they did. They described a stray cat Shel had taken in, and his two seasons as coach of the Little League Panthers. A member of the local Humane Society said how generous he'd always been both with time and money.

Dave remained silent. He would have liked to say a few words for his lifelong friend. But he didn't dare get started talking about Shel because he wasn't sure he wouldn't finish at the Library of Alexandria. Or with Molly Brown.

Helen was there, too.

When it was over, he took her to Strattmeyer's, and they had a couple of drinks while she looked listlessly out at the pa.s.sing traffic on the Expressway. They exchanged all the usual cliches about how they couldn't believe he was gone, how there'd never be another like him, how it just seemed impossible.

"I saw him Thursday night," she said.

"I'm sorry, Helen." He didn't know what else to say.

"We were going to get married."

"I'm not surprised to hear it. He loved you, Helen."

"The police have been around to talk to me."

"They were at my place, too."

"They think it was murder. Dave, I can't believe that. Who'd have wanted to take his life?"

"I don't know. I don't buy it. It's a misunderstanding somewhere. It'll get straightened out."

But he wasn't wasn't dead. Not really. He's alive in 1931, he's alive in New York on V-J Day, and in the Lamplight back in Durham. Time travelers never die. Not really. And, in a way, we're all time travelers. Somehow, the entire temporal stream exists, but we're only conscious of a single moment. Is that how it is? That it isn't the dead. Not really. He's alive in 1931, he's alive in New York on V-J Day, and in the Lamplight back in Durham. Time travelers never die. Not really. And, in a way, we're all time travelers. Somehow, the entire temporal stream exists, but we're only conscious of a single moment. Is that how it is? That it isn't the world world moving through the eons, but only our consciousness, like a light pa.s.sing through a series of dark rooms? Or, maybe a better a.n.a.logy, like an old-time film, in which only one frame at a time moves in front of the bulb? moving through the eons, but only our consciousness, like a light pa.s.sing through a series of dark rooms? Or, maybe a better a.n.a.logy, like an old-time film, in which only one frame at a time moves in front of the bulb?

He stopped with his second drink. Had to drive, and two was pretty much his limit.

"Are you going tomorrow?" she asked. She meant the funeral.

"Yes."

"I'll be glad when it's over."

CHAPTER 35.

The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.

-WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, MEASURE FOR MEASURE MEASURE FOR MEASURE

DURING the funeral, Dave kept thinking how Shel would appear at any time, walk up and say h.e.l.lo, ask whether he and Katie would like to join him and Helen for dinner. One of the curious phenomena a.s.sociated with sudden and unexpected death is the inability to accept it when it strikes those close to us. People always imagine that the person they've lost is in the kitchen, or in the next room, and that it requires only that we call his name to have him reappear in the customary place. Dave felt that way about Shel. They'd spent a lot of time together, and, with the advent of the converters, had shared a unique experience. When the dangers and celebrations were over, they normally came back through the wardrobe. the funeral, Dave kept thinking how Shel would appear at any time, walk up and say h.e.l.lo, ask whether he and Katie would like to join him and Helen for dinner. One of the curious phenomena a.s.sociated with sudden and unexpected death is the inability to accept it when it strikes those close to us. People always imagine that the person they've lost is in the kitchen, or in the next room, and that it requires only that we call his name to have him reappear in the customary place. Dave felt that way about Shel. They'd spent a lot of time together, and, with the advent of the converters, had shared a unique experience. When the dangers and celebrations were over, they normally came back through the wardrobe.

Shel stood up there now, just outside the bedroom door, his face emotionless.

Dave froze.

Shel advanced to the top of the stairs and looked down. "Hi, Dave."

"Shel." Dave could barely get the word out. He hung on to the banister, and the stairs reeled. "Shel, is that you?"

Shel smiled. The old, crooked grin that Dave had thought not to see again. Some part of him that was too slow-witted to get sufficiently fl.u.s.tered started flicking through explanations. Someone else had died in the fire. It was a dream. Shel had a twin.

"Yeah," he said. "It's me. Nice funeral."

"You were there."

"Yes."

"I didn't see you."

"I didn't exactly stand up front." They stared at each other. "You should try it sometime, watching people throw flowers on your coffin."

Somewhere, far away, he heard the sound of a train.

"I'm sorry," said Shel. "I know this must be a shock."

An understatement of sorts. Shel walked across the landing. Dave's heartbeat picked up. Shel came to the top of the stairs and started down. Dave started to back up, to make room. Shel grabbed his arm so he didn't fall. His hands were solid, the smile very real.

"What the h.e.l.l's going on?" Dave said.

Shel's eyes were bright and sad. He slid down into a sitting position and dragged Dave with him. "It's been a strange morning," he said.

"You're supposed to be dead."

He took a deep breath. "I know. I am am dead, Dave. The reports of my death seem to be accurate." dead, Dave. The reports of my death seem to be accurate."

Suddenly it was clear. "You've come back from downstream downstream. Or up upstream. Who the h.e.l.l cares? You're alive."

Shel nodded. "Yes." He drew his legs up in a gesture that looked defensive. "You sure you're okay, Dave?"

"I've been trying to get used to this. To the idea that you're gone. Or were were gone. Whatever." gone. Whatever."

Shel took a deep breath but said nothing.

"You're using the converter now."

"That's right."

"So when you go back-"

"-The house will burn, and I'll be in it."

For a long time neither spoke. "Don't go back," Dave said at last.

"I don't see how I can avoid it."

Ridiculous. Dave's mind filled with images of lightning strikes and burglars in the night and the charred remains of Shel's desk. "Stay the h.e.l.l away from it. What have you got to lose?"

"It's not that." His voice sounded tight. And there was a hunted look in his eyes. "I have no intention of going back there. But I'm not sure it's my my call." call."

"That makes no sense, Shel."

"It happened happened, Dave. You know that, and I do. Somehow, I'm going to wind up in that fire." For a long moment, he simply sat on the staircase, breathing. "They found me in the bed."

"Yes. I know."

"I don't believe it." Shel was pale and his eyes were red.

"They think you were murdered."

He nodded. Said nothing. They made their way back down into the living room and dropped into armchairs.

"What happened, Shel? Do you have any idea who it could have been?"

"None." His head sank back and he stared at the ceiling. "I was downstream, looking at stuff. And I did what we always said we wouldn't do. No matter what."

"You looked at your bio."