A Perfect Crime by Peter Abrahams

Author:Peter Abrahams [Abrahams, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, C429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9780345436559
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2008-10-12T13:00:00+00:00

20

“I hope this doesn’t offend anyone,” said Ned, dispensing with his elegant little fork and slurping the oyster right off the shell. “The only way to eat them,” he said, patting his mouth with a napkin. He’d ordered a dozen, the others—Francie, Anne, Roger—half a dozen each.

“Not at all,” said Roger. “Boldness is all when it comes to certain of the appetites.”

“I’m sorry?” said Ned, pausing, the next oyster halfway to his mouth.

“You know that old saw,” Roger said, tasting the Montrachet he’d ordered and nodding to the waiter. “ ‘He was a bold man that first eat an oyster.’ ”

Francie could see from the look on his face that Ned didn’t know. “Swift, isn’t it?” she said. “And since the bold man probably wasn’t bold enough to venture into the kitchen, his wife must have tried it first.”

Laughter. Roger raised his glass to her. Ned’s eyes lingered on her face; didn’t he realize those eyes were too obviously appreciative, even loving, if you knew them? Next his foot would be touching hers under the table; she drew her feet under the chair and said, “The bread, please.” Ned passed it to her, his hand moving a little quicker than Roger’s.

The waiter filled their glasses. Anne drank half of hers in one gulp. “Swift,” she said. “Do you know the Marriage Service from His Chamber Window?”

No one did.

She drank some more. “‘ Under this window in stormy weather / I marry this man and woman together; / Let none but Him who rules the thunder / Put this man and woman asunder. ’”

Silence.

“How times change,” Roger said.

Anne looked across the table at him. “Beautiful, isn’t it? I wanted it read at our wedding.”

Roger refilled her glass.

“This is wonderful wine, Roger,” Anne said. She glanced at Ned. “I’ll know something to order from now on.”

“If we win the lottery,” Ned said. Roger’s eyes swept over him; Francie thought Ned’s dark face darkened some more.

Roger turned to Anne. “But?” he said.

She put down her glass. “But?”

Roger smiled. “But Swift didn’t make the grade?”

Anne glanced again at Ned.

“It wasn’t raining on our wedding day, for one thing,” Ned said. “And we were indoors.”

Roger topped off Ned’s glass. “Where was this?”

“Our wedding? In Cleveland.”

“Ah,” said Roger.

“We’re both from Cleveland,” Anne said.

“I’ve never actually been there,” Roger said, sipping his wine. “Have you, Francie?”

“Yes,” she said, stupidly adding, “it’s very nice.”

“I’m sure it is,” Roger said. “And what brought the two of you here?”

“Ned did postdoc work at B.U. We liked it so much, we stayed.”

“Your field, Ned, if it’s not rude to ask?”

“Psychology.”

“You teach at B.U.?”

“I have. Now I’m in private practice.”

“Don’t be so modest, Ned,” Anne said. “He’s also on the radio five days a week.”

“Really?” said Roger. “In what capacity?”

“Ned has his own show.”

“Psychology instruction?”

“More like advice,” Anne said. “It’s called Intimately Yours. Boston Magazine’s doing a piece next month.”

“Dear Abby of the air?” said Roger.

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Ned said.

“My apologies.”

“None necessary. I just try to help the callers think things through on their own.

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