Thirteen Diamonds

never dreamed of winning a prize like that.
    “I read about it,” Tess said. “Recently. I think it was in Time Magazine . We have so many accomplished people here it must have slipped my mind. The article said it was the 25th anniversary of his prize and the subject is more pertinent today than ever.”
    “What did he win the Nobel for?” I asked.
    “Something to do with money...”
    “Well, of course there's a cash award that goes with the prize.”
    “No, I mean he wrote about money. Currencies. And with the instability in the world's currency markets, that's why his work is important today.” Tess sometimes fooled people. She was smart for having been “just” a housewife.
    “I hope somebody has the answer,” Carol said. “After what some of the third-world countries have gone through, recently, with their currencies depreciating so much as to be almost worthless.”
    There was a knock on the open door; Carol raised her eyes and said, “Come in.”
    I recognized the good-looking man who strode into the office as Joe Turner, whose title was something like Facilities Manager. He said, “Excuse me, Ladies. I have to get this requisition signed by the boss-lady or we may find ourselves with a backed-up sewer system.” He nodded to Tess, but not to me. What did she have that I didn't have?
    His bare arm muscles rippled as he gave Carol the document. She glanced at it briefly, signed it and returned it to him. He pivoted on a large work-shoe-clad foot and strode out of the office, leaving an aura of masculinity behind. He was one of the men who will be expendable in 50 years. I'm glad I won't be around to see it.
    “Now that is what I call a hunk,” I said.
    “Lillian!” Tess said.
    “I agree with you,” Carol said, smiling. “Why do you think I hired him?”
    Tess had a disapproving frown on her face so I changed the subject. I asked, “Does Gerald have family?”
    “He doesn't have any children. And of course Mrs. Weiss has been dead for a number of years. In fact, he had no close relatives. I'm told that his will leaves most of his money to charity. By the way, Lillian, I understand you were the one who discovered that Gerald's bridge hand when he was stricken was 13 diamonds.”
    “Yes, that's right.”
    “I hope it was fitting to include that hand on Gerald's memorial display in the main hallway. I'm not sure. Some people might think it's a bit unfeeling.”
    I kept quiet. I have been accused of being insensitive on occasion and I'm sensitive about it.
    When I didn't say anything, Carol said, “Don't worry about it. I know Gerald was an avid bridge player. I'm not a bridge player myself, but I'm aware that a hand like that is very unusual.”
    “ Very unusual.”
     
                       *    *    *
                      
    As we walked out of Carol's office, Ophah, the Silver Acres receptionist, was briskly returning to her desk from some errand. “Hi Ophah,” I said, “is the mail ready yet?”
    “About 30 minutes,” she said with a southern accent that I could at least understand, as opposed to those of some people, including the housekeeper who cleaned my apartment.
    Ophah had a commanding presence and controlled everything within her sphere of influence, which included the mailroom, with unmatched efficiency. “You were talking to Carol about Mr. Weiss, weren't you?” she said. “That was a terrible thing. He was such a nice man. He always winked at me.”
    “Unfortunately, there’s nothing that can be done for him now,” Tess said. “But how is your son? Is he playing baseball?”
    “Oh, Lord yes, he's playing in a summer league. He hits the ball so far. Hank Aaron is his idol. I watch Mark play every chance I get.”
    “I bet he'll play in the major leagues some day.”
    Since Ophah knew everything that went on she might be able to answer a question for me. I asked, “Were you here when the fire alarm went off on Wednesday—the day Dr. Weiss died?”
    “I was at lunch. It must have happened just after I left. I went to lunch a little early.”
    “Did anything unusual happen that morning?”
    “It depends on what you mean by unusual. A young man came in and said he had a delivery from a restaurant. He asked to use my phone to call one of the residents. He had a package, all wrapped up. I remember because he was real handsome and he said his name was Mark, just like my son.”
    “Who was the package for?” I asked.
    “I