The Final Order Arrived Before We Set Another Place For Supper

The clerk read guilty on the burglary counts, guilty on receiving stolen property, and guilty on insurance fraud.

Conrad kept looking at the jury box. He seemed to expect someone there to explain the mistake.

I watched his hands. They lay flat on the table, empty of pens, keys, and other people's papers.

Beatrice took my hand under the rail.

The verdict did not settle every number. There were still hearings, ownership claims, and a sentencing date. Helen told me which letters needed answers and which ones I could file away.

Conrad's civil suit ended first.

He dismissed it with prejudice, so he could not bring the same claim again. Under the written settlement, he paid my $2,180 in legal costs. He also signed a statement withdrawing his claim that I had stolen or damaged any part of his clock.

Helen made sure the payment cleared before she closed her file.

I put her final bill beside the original $65 inspection invoice. After all that, the work I had actually done still cost exactly what I had said it would.

At sentencing, Ruth Alder read a short statement about her father. A man from Guilford spoke about the birds his wife had carved before she lost the use of her hands.

I spoke about the key.

"I used to leave an extra cup out without thinking about it," I told the judge. "After someone entered my shop, I checked the lock before I checked who was knocking. I'd like that part of my life back."

Conrad received a prison sentence of six to nine years. The judge also ordered restitution. His seized sale proceeds and the later sale of his warehouse went toward the theft victims and the insurer's $30,000 advance.

Silas received eighteen months to serve, followed by probation. Owen received a year to serve and probation. Their cooperation helped their sentences. It did not erase the burglaries they had admitted.

The order barred Conrad from contacting us. Silas's conditions kept him away from my shop. Mara received the $286 locksmith cost through the restitution process and showed me the receipt.

"The cheapest part of this whole mess," she said.

No other crew appeared in the records or testimony. Bell told us the recovered inventory and the known buyers accounted for every stolen item in the charged cases. Some had been damaged. Those losses became dollar amounts in the orders.

Ruth got her river letter back that winter.

She brought it to my shop in its album. The torn crescent and the little purple number were both there. Beatrice spent ten minutes looking at it with her.

I made tea and set out a third plate.

The brass washer held down Ruth's napkin while the back door stood open for a delivery. I noticed that I had opened the door without checking the street first.

It was a small thing. I let myself enjoy it.

The local paper printed an account of the trial and the withdrawn civil claim. I framed neither. But the customer who had worried about her mantel clock sent her brother, and the auction house that once called to ask questions sent me a paid repair order.

My spring booking book filled. I raised my hourly rate from $55 to $60, because my supplier had raised his prices, not because I had become famous.

Clock 4471 remained held until the case and appeal were over. Months later, Bell told me no appeal remained pending. The recorded owners had received their property, the money from the ordered sales had been distributed, and the criminal file could close.

At the insurer's request, the stripped warehouse clock went to a salvage sale. I did not bid. My photographs stayed in my records cabinet under job 6814.

Beatrice still lived two doors away.

She had lived alone for twelve years. On our first supper nights, she had checked her watch before the plates were cleared. Now she sometimes forgot where she had put it. I liked that she could leave whenever she pleased, and that more often she chose to stay for tea.

One March evening, she brought over a small box of tea and put it on my shelf.

"That's for here," she said.

"I guessed."

"I might leave a book too."

I cleared a dry spot beside the lamp. She watched me do it, then kissed my cheek.

Outside, the brook was breaking free of its ice. Inside, the repaired regulator kept a steady beat. I had made squash soup, and she had brought bread.

I moved a tray of screws and opened the bread bag. Beatrice sat beside me while the clock kept time.

Then Mara tapped at the glass, holding an empty bowl, and I made another place at the quiet bench.