Anthony, Piers Shade of the Tree

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that moment nature had caught up with him.
Yet Josh could not escape from that one sight of Foster's dead face, lying sidewise in the dirt: that look of
horror. Not pain, not worry, not even really fear. Just stark, absolute, mind-consuming horror. As though
the man had seen something so awful it had stopped his heart, literally.
Suppose there was a monster, horrible beyond belief, and Foster had seen it, there by the shed? Now Josh
remembered the smell he had encountered, there at the body, strong enough to penetrate his stuffed nose.
It could have been from the body, of course, but somehow it had seemed more general, as though
something foul had recently departed the vicinity. Bodies did not spoil that quickly, did they, even in this
hot climate? So something else
No, nonsense, he told himself angrily. His imagination was getting out of hand. The forest floor had an
odor sometimes, as leaves and fallen wood rotted; Foster had merely scuffled this up in the course of his
laborious progress.
What, then, of the saw? How had it moved? Had the old man tried to pick it up, and overstrained himself?
Or had it moved toward him on its own? That could account for the man's fatal horror!
No, again. Of course not. Obviously Foster had started to pick up the saw, perhaps just to move it, then
suffered some sort of shock. Perhaps the sight of the seeming blood under the saw that certainly made
sense. Yes, that had to be it. Foster would not have opened the shed for feed; he paid little attention to
animals. He had wanted to borrow the saw. Nothing supernatural here. After all, the saw had not even
been running.
Why, then, was there such an aura of menace about it, even when it was idle? Josh thought he had
conquered that fear, but it now seemed it had only abated temporarily. The saw radiated renewed evil.
He was overreacting, he decided as the sheriffs men departed. That was to be expected. Sudden death was
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always upsetting.
Chapter 11
In the morning, Monday, Josh packed the children off to school as usual, except that this time he walked
with them to meet the school bus. He did not say so, but he wanted to be quite sure that no more bodies
lay in the road and that there was no ghost where Foster had been. Of course there was no such thing, but
the children might think they saw it, without the steadying presence of an adult.
After the bus passed, Josh walked on south to Foster's farm. Sure enough, no one had fed his animals the
prior night; probably no one had checked his premises at all. The caged rabbits were ravenous, and the
cats fawned at him desperately. Josh poked about the feed shed and located chicken feed and dog food.
He tried the latter on the cats and it seemed to do. It was certainly all right for the dogs.
There was a large fallen branch in the front yard, too big to haul away by hand. Obviously it would have
to be sawed up and probably Foster didn't have a saw. There was the motive for borrowing Josh's saw.
Then he heard approaching hooves. He knew whom that would be!
"Now you understand," Philippa said as she dismounted.
"Now I understand," Josh agreed. "The animals must not suffer neglect. Where were you yesterday?"
"Off on a business trip. I shouldn't have gone; it seems all hell broke loose. How did Foster die?"
"At my place. By the feed shed well, he dragged himself up the road. Heart attack."
"I don't believe that. He was old, but I'm sure his heart was sound. He walked around a lot: good
exercise."
"Maybe a monster scared him."
She burst out with that ready laugh. "Why don't you take the morning feeding, and I'll take the afternoon,
until someone takes over here," she suggested.
Josh smiled. "I can see you've been through this before. Who'll buy the feed?"
"I'll do it," she decided. "I'll send the bill to Foster's estate."
"When do I get the bill for the Pinson estate?"
Again the laugh. That, it seemed, was all the answer he was going to get.
"Actually," Josh said, "I have to get moving on my next project, or I won't be able to afford much feed of
any kind." He wasn't going to touch those six gold coins until he knew their origin.
"What is it that you do?" Pip inquired.
"Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm a free-lance computer systems consultant." He paused because a low-flying jet
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plane passed at this point, drowning out conversation. It was a swift swept-wing job, handsome enough,
flying substantially ahead of its sound. "It's my job to select the best feasible computer system that's
hardware and software for the particular application, and adapt it to the need, and get the regular
company personnel started using it. I took a vacation while I was getting my family moved, but now I
have accepted an assignment involving the payroll and inventory of a large merchandiser. I'm going to
have to take a crash course in accounting procedures so I can organize it."
"Accounting procedures," she repeated thoughtfully.
"Yes. Something new each time. That's the way I like it."
"You can do that? Master an entire separate discipline for the sake of a single project? I should think you
would go broke just getting through it."
"I have to do it. It's the only way to formulate a system efficient enough to make my fee become a
bargain. I am not inexpensive." He smiled ruefully. "But when I made this contract, I did not anticipate
having a man die virtually on my doorstep. I'm going to have trouble getting the necessary
concentration."
"Maybe you need a good public accountant to help you get into it."
Josh considered. "Yes, maybe so. I had planned to hit the books I mean, the interactive courses I can
run on my computer. I'm a very quick study on such things. But now "
"I happen to have the number of the best free-lance CPA in Inverness. Would you like it?"
"Yes. Yes I would," Josh said, brightening. "A person remains better than a computer, so far. It can't do
any harm to check, and if it doesn't work out I can still research it on my own."
"It is P. Graham, at 726 "
"Wait, let me get that down!" Josh fished for his little notepad and pencil. She gave him the number, then
mounted her steed and trotted off.
Josh walked home, considering. Sooner or later he would have to reach out, start finding local resources.
Why not now?
At home he telephoned the number immediately. A man's gruff voice answered. "Graham."
"I'm looking for a CPA," Josh said. "Have I the right ?"
"Oh, sure," the man said. "Just a moment. Who is ?"
"The name is Pinson. I want to see about "
"Right. Be right back." There was a click as the phone was set down.
There was a long pause. Then the man was back. "Can't make it to the phone right now. Appointment for
Thursday?"
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"Well, I just wanted to "
"Ten A.M. do? Or later?"
"I really had in mind "
"Ten, then. Got the address?"
"No, I " [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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