Free A Real Pickle by Jessica Beck

of here in tears.  I won’t have you disturbing my family in this tragic time, do you understand me?”
    “We have to find the truth,” I said.
    “For a biography that no one is ever going to read?” the matron asked sharply.
    “We’re not doing this for anyone but your brother,” Moose said.  “Profit is not our motive here.”
    “Then you fit right in with the rest of my family.  I’m the only one left with any sense of responsibility for the money our ancestors acquired.  Curtis was a solid businessman for many years, but I’m afraid that his illness tainted his ability to focus on what was important.”
    “And what would that be?” I asked.
    “Our bloodline, of course,” she said.  
    “So, who do you think might have killed him?” Moose asked her.
    “Why do you believe that I have any idea of who that might be?” she asked.
    “Because I’ve watched you assess those around you as though you were weighing them on your very own set of scales, and I have a hunch that they’ve all come up short in your eyes.”
    It was fascinating.  I could see her considering her options as she tried to decide how to react.  To my surprise, her response was a slight smile.  “Remind me never to play poker with you.  Yes, I admit that I have given it a great deal of thought.”
    “Have you come up with any conclusions?” Moose asked her.  
    “I don’t trust Crane.  Actually, I never really have.”
    “Has he done anything to earn your suspicion besides not being related directly to you?” Moose asked.
    “That’s a fair question,” Charlotte said, “but I don’t have an answer, at least not yet.  I’ll find the truth though; you can trust me on that.”
    “Were you and your brother close?” I asked her.  I hoped that they’d at least had a better relationship than the next generation appeared to have had with him.
    “We were, once upon a time,” she said, “but his illness finally drove us apart.  He changed in more ways than I can describe.  Things that were once important to him became nothing in his eyes, while he became odder and odder.  I suppose you know about those ridiculous plastic pickles he loved to give out.”
    “I thought they were charming,” I said, and it was true.  It had made Curtis stand out, something that was nearly always good in my mind.
    “It was an embarrassment,” she said abruptly.  “Our family has owned many businesses over the years, gradually building up into an empire.  Certainly our people sold pickles a long time ago, but we’ve grown into a huge corporation.”
    “But the brunt of your fortune still started making and selling pickles, right?” I asked.  It had been a point of pride with Curtis about his humble beginnings, and I hated seeing his sister trash the image.
    “It hardly matters at this point,” she said.  “I must ask you both to restrain yourselves from asking such personal questions while you’re guests here.  It’s unseemly.”
    “Maybe it is,” I said, “but it was what Curtis wanted.  Just because it makes you uncomfortable is not enough reason for us to stop.”
    “Must I remind you that you both are here at my discretion?” she asked.
    “Actually, Jeffrey is the one who has control of the estate right now,” Moose said.  “I’ll bet that was a real surprise for you all.”
    “It just shows you how much my brother had slipped in the last year of his life.  I’m afraid that Jeffrey is in it well over his head.”
    “Then we’ll be here to help him if he needs it,” I said.
    “So then, you are on his side in all of this,” she said curtly.
    “As a matter of fact, the only reason that we’re here is because of Curtis,” I answered.  “We aren’t going anywhere.”
    “So be it,” she said as there was a knock on the door.
    Before Moose or I could answer, Charlotte called out, “Enter.”
    Humphries walked in.  “Dinner is being served in the grand dining hall.”
    “We’ll be there