"Probably hold a celebration at the nearest bar after-ward."

"Probably." Lydia sighed. "I don't think there will be any family at the graveside, either. Chester once told me that he had no close relatives. He was always saying that was one of the things he and I had in common."

Melanie snorted softly. "You and Chester Brady had nothing at all in common. He was a classic loser, always looking for the big score and always screwing it up whenever he came close to getting it."

"I know." Not so very different from her at all, Lydia thought glumly. But she refrained from saying that aloud. "It's weird, but I think I'm going to miss him."

Melanie rolled her eyes. "I don't see how you can summon up any sympathy for the little jerk after the way he stole your first client away from you last month."

"He just looked so pathetic lying there in that sarcophagus, Mel. The blood and everything." Lydia shuddered.

"It was awful. You know, Chester was pond scum, but I'm surprised that he actually made someone mad enough to murder him."

"Among his other glowing qualities, Brady was a thief. That tends to irritate folks."

"There is that," Lydia conceded. "And as a parting gift to me, on his way to the afterlife he managed to sabotage the sweet deal I had going this morning."

"Think you've lost the client who came to interview you today?"

"For sure. The poor guy had to spend an hour with the cops because of what happened. He was polite about it, but I got the impression that Mr. London is not accustomed to tolerating that kind of inconvenience. He's a rich, successful businessman from Resonance City. When he phoned earlier he made it clear he prefers to keep a very low profile. He wanted all sorts of assurances about discretion and confidentiality. Thanks to me, he'll probably wind up in the evening papers."