Bernie followed Mrs. Nescomb up the narrow stairway to the attic: "Now mind deary, Mr. Nescomb (blessing herself and whispering almost under her breath 'God rest') converted this from storage space. It's nothing lavish." They stopped in front of the door just long enough for Mrs. Nescomb to find the key in her apron pocket. "Here we go deary" opening the door, "Oh, a bit stuffy I'd say", she went on as she entered, crossing immediately to open the only window. Bernie stood at the threshold momentarily taking in the slopped ceiling room. The walls were painted cornflower blue with white trim and floor (three small area rugs were almost the same blue). It was modestly decorated; queen size bed, nightstand to the right with a small brass lamp atop a doily, dresser across with mirror on the wall, a small desk with with another brass lamp, phone and mismatched chair, an old standing wardrobe, and one overstuffed armchair with ottoman with a floor lamp tucked behind. "Well come in deary, have a look. Over here's the bath, no tub but a good size stall shower", Mrs. Nescomb chirped. Bernie entered, crossed to look in the bath then to the bed feeling the mattress. "Now let's see deary, at $30 per night for the month, no tax mind you, it's $840", she paused to calculate again. "$30 times 7 times 4, yes $840, that's right. So what do you think deary?" Bernie pulled out a roll of bills, peeled off 17 50"s and handed them to Mrs. Nescomb. "Keep the change", was all that was said. "All right then, I'll just get you a receipt", Mrs. Nescomb started when Bernie moved to the door and suggested she leave it till the morning. "Very well deary, suit yourself, here's your key", as she headed for the door counting the 50's "Breakfast is at 7:30, lunch at 1, supper at 7. No cooking in the rooms and all visitors are only allowed on the main floor.." "Thank you Mrs. Nescomb" Bernie said allowing the closing door to usher her out of the room. Briefly leaning against the door Bernie finally unshouldered the backpack and flung it onto the armchair. "So this is it" thinking out loud, "guess I should settle in." The thought stopped by the muted ring of the cell phone buried somewhere in the backpack. Quickly riffling the pockets, Bernie grabbed it, checked the caller ID, then answered; "Bernice Auerbach speaking".