Nigel Lasserby knew his time was growing short.
In a gathering of his closest friends and family members he informed them of his imminent demise and offered each of them a parcel; a memento by which to remember Nigel.
Inside his Great-Niece’s package was half of a medallion and clues as to where the remainder of it was hidden. Brother Christoph had been given a book of quotations with many of the sayings highlighted with underlinings. Kenneth was Nigel’s man-servant. His “prize” was a key to a safe deposit box that Nigel had kept at the bank. Lastly, Kitten, a buxom stripper who had befriended Nigel in his final days, received a note book with a series of random numbers.
Before he could explain each gift, Nigel was stricken by a fatal heart attack and died.
“What the fuck is this?” Kitten hissed snapping her chewing gum. “Numbas, you stupid old shit! And afta all we’ve meant to each otha awl these past few days!”
The stripper was incensed. Nigel was worth millions. What about all those lovely greenbacks?
Her gum chewing was annoying. Her presence was even more. She was brought in by Cristoph to give pleasure to his dying brother one last time. And she ended up staying for days. It seems she found true love in the intimacy of his quarters. She found it in the multitudes of dollars as well.
“You’ll all hear from my lawya! Kitten stormed out as she ripped the pages from her book, and shredded the pages into tiny piece as she disappeared through the door.
“Thank goodness for bad trash!” Kenneth said dutifully as he retrieved the vacuum cleaner to eradicate the mess the horrid bitch had left behind.
He emptied the bag from the unit to deposit it at the curb for the trash pickup. His timing was as impeccable as he had kept Sir Nigel’s manse. The truck sped off as a red sports car careened into the long winding drive. It was her again.
“I want my pages with the numbas!” Kitten demanded.
After some thinking she realized they could have been important telephone numbers. Or combinations to some safe lock. Swiss bank account numbers? She had been too hasty.
“You are too late Madam!” Kenneth sniffed. “But if you hurry you might catch up with the garbage scow that just passed you on the street. I vacuumed your mess and made the trash just in time!”
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Kitten shouted as she hurried back down the drive.
Lucky for her she found the truck that had hauled the refuse away. She saw it pull away from the dump just as the breeze caught the last fragment of paper from the heap.
She ran lunging head first into a steaming pile of compost. She had a lot of searching to do!