The Undertaker's Unfinished Guest List

How it begins

Agnes preferred clients who had already died.

They were less likely to change the arrangements.

The five bookings on her desk came from people scheduled to arrive on the morning ship.

No date of death.

No medical certificate.

All paid in advance.

Felix read the first name and stopped polishing the handles.

"Do we offer a discount for groups?"

"We do not encourage them."

He laid the cloth down.

Outside, the harbor bell announced the ship's arrival.

Agnes could see its passengers lining the rail, impatient for dry land and breakfast.

The shipping notice reported an uneventful crossing.

She turned the first booking over.

A room number.

Not a cabin.

A room in the warehouse beside the customs office.

Felix looked at the signature.

"I know that hand."

"Whose is it?"

"That depends when you ask."

Agnes had employed him for eleven months.

He was punctual, careful and reluctant to discuss any period before the previous spring.

She had respected the boundary.

Now it appeared on her desk in ink.

"Felix."

"She was alive when I last saw her."

"An encouraging qualification."

"I helped her leave."

"From where?"

He looked toward the ship.

On its upper deck, a woman in a gray hat lifted her hand.

Not a wave.

A count.

One finger.

Then two.

Then five.

Felix stepped away from the window.

Agnes took her best coat from the stand.

"We're going to the harbor."

"What about the appointments?"

"If they arrive before us, ask them to remain alive."

She placed the bookings inside her bag.

At the door, Felix stopped.

"What if they don't want to be found?"

Agnes looked at the five signatures.

"Then we begin by asking them, rather than arranging their funerals."

The harbor bell sounded again.

This time, somebody on the ship answered with a whistle.

Felix went very pale.

Agnes handed him the bag.

"Tell me on the way."