"Woman's World" published this story in January of 2003.  It later received a honorable mention in Future Mystery Anthology Magazine's Slesar Twist contest, 2003.

The Obits

Dockers.  Plaid shirt.  Sweater.  Ed Williams slipped on his blonde wig.  Without his black hair and business suit nobody would guess he was Kansas City's Edward Williams, Attorney at Law. He practiced the "nice guy" smile that lured old ladies into inviting him into their homes. 

Ed smiled.  Dumb burglar!  Every time he scored a hit, he made himself a target for arrest.  Although Ed was an avid collector of glass and china, he prided himself on having paid for every piece in his collection.  He offered only a pittance of an item's value, but that was a collector's right, wasn't it?  He kept his sleazy methods a secret.

Eighty-year-old Ora Jackson promised to be a pushover.  He'd read her husband's obituary in the newspaper days ago.  Lonely widows were easy marks.  They wanted someone to talk to.  They welcomed a little extra cash.  And they seldom realized some of the dishes they'd used for years were now antiques.

He'd memorized Ora Jackson's address.  He parked in front of her apartment and knocked on her door, listening to the flub-flub of slippers against bare floor before she answered.  Stooped and wrinkled, Ora had hair like a silver Brillo pad.

"Hello, Mrs. Jackson," Ed said. "I'm Carl Wells.  I collect dishes, and one of your neighbors told me you might have some depression era glass you'd be willing to sell."

"Can't imagine who said that," Ora said.  "Only dishes I have are those Charley and I used.  Now that Charley's gone . . . "

Ed tossed Ora his best smile.  "Would you show me some of them?  I'm always interested in adding to my collection."

Ora opened the door wider.  He stepped inside. 

"Well, I do have a few pieces that I could part with.  Nothing special.  Just goblets that my mother passed to me.  Never did like them. But that doesn't mean I'll sell cheap."

"Oh, I wouldn't expect that," Ed said, smiling.

"Sit down, Mr. Wells, and I'll see what I can find."

Ed sat on a sagging sofa in the musty-smelling room.  Soon Ora returned carrying a tray holding two goblets, a lemonade pitcher, and a Willowware tureen. 

"Would these pieces interest you, sir?" 

Ed hid his enthusiasm. The pitcher itself could be worth over a hundred dollars, the soup tureen, too. 

"What's your price on these goblets?" 

"Don't rightly know, sir.  What's your offer?"

Ed examined the goblets.  "Well, they're scratched from use.  That's to be expected.  But look.  There's a chip on the rim of this one."  He pointed to the slight flaw.  "How about a dollar each?"

"Fair enough," Ora said, "considering the chip.  What about the pitcher?"

Ed turned the pitcher over and studied the hallmark.  "That's a mighty nice piece, Mrs. Jackson.  Five dollars?"

"No," Ora replied.  "I'd need at least ten."

"Could we settle for seven-fifty?" 

Ora hesitated before she nodded.  "And the tureen?"

Ed examined the tureen for cracks and read the hallmark.

"Ten dollars."

"Make it twenty," Ora said.  "This piece belonged to Granny.  It's a true family piece."

"Twenty dollars it is." Ed decided not to bargain.  He'd obtained two excellent pieces for almost nothing.  If he ever decided to sell, they'd bring top dollar. 

Ora wrapped the dishes in newspaper and tucked them into a cardboard box.

"Thank you, Mr. Wells.  This's Friday night's bingo money." 

"Good luck at the parlor." Ed took the carton and left. 

Later, as Ed stood at his kitchen sink washing his new finds, someone knocked.  His throat tightened as he saw two police officers on this porch.  What's this all about he wondered.  When he opened the door, the tall officer flashed his badge. 

"Sgt. McGreavy, sir.  I have a search warrant."

The shorter man kept in the background.  Ed opened the door for the officers.  His conscience pricked him, but why?  He'd paid for the dishes.

"An informer tells us you have dishes from the Hampton burglary in your possession."  Sgt. McGreavy said.  "May we look around?" 

"Why certainly, Sir."  Ed fought to keep control.  He held his breath as the officers entered his kitchen and saw the dishes in his sink. 

"Officers, I paid Mrs. Ora Jackson for those dishes.  She'll vouch for that."

Sgt. McGreavy opened a manila folder, and pulled out photos of the pitcher and the tureen.

"Mr. Williams, Ora Jackson is a collector.  She says you came to her trying to sell these dishes.  She wrote down the number on your car tags because she recognized the tureen from the newspaper description.  You're under arrest.  At headquarters you can explain why you're in possession of pieces from the Hampton burglary."

Ed felt the steel handcuffs on his wrists all the way to police headquarters. 

Ora Jackson left town with the reward money in her purse.  She always rented  furnished quarters so could leave quickly.  She pinpointed her antique heists using the newspaper.  The obits told when a family would be at a funeral, leaving their valuables unguarded.  That's when she acted. 

She also used the obit column in another way.  Anyone could pay to have an obit printed.  She'd used Charley's obit dozens of times.  Sooner or later some scam artist who preyed on elderly widows would rap on her door expecting to bilk her out of something, dishes, books, furniture or money, if they had something to sell. 

She was always welcomed garnering a few bucks on her stolen loot, but to collect a $1,000 reward!  Whoopee!  Carl Wells was going to have a hard time explaining how he happened to have those stolen items.  She smiled as she thought of the cartons of dishes in her car trunk.  He'd have an even harder time explaining where he'd hidden the rest of the loot.

The End.

My short stories have appeared in "Futures Mystery Anthology Magazine," "Woman's World," "Orchard Press Mysteries," "Mysterious Intent Mystery Magazine," and "Hand Held Crime."  My short story, "When in Rome" won a Derringer award from Short Mystery Fiction Society in 1999.