Myst Thanksgiving theft A
Bill Jones was eager to share his exquisite find . . . but one dinner guest was a little too greedy!
s soon as his three guests arrived at his home on Thanksgiving Eve, Bill Jones eagerly showed off his latest oddball art acquisition.
“The Cyprian Duck!” Bill proclaimed, whipping a velvet cloth off the little bird sitting on his dining room table.
The duck was made of 24-karat gold and encrusted with precious jewels from beak to tail. It glittered spectacularly under the dining room’s chandelier.
“That’s just great,” his son, Ted, commented with little enthusiasm.
“Yes, lovely,” his daughter, Julie, sighed, rolling her eyes.
“How wonderful,” Bill’s friend John Simms stated flatly.
The three were less than impressed. Ted and Julie because they were sick and tired of their elderly father throwing away his money and their inheritance on overvalued, dubious art items. John because he was an art collector himself and didn’t like being upstaged by his friend.
The trio had been invited to Bill’s house to share Thanksgiving dinner and, unknowingly, view the man’s duck.
“How much did you blow on this thing?” Julie folded her arms.
“It’s priceless!” Bill breathed.
Julie mumbled, “Everything has a price.”
“Well, how much could you sell it for if you had to?” Ted asked, planting his hands on his hips.
“I’d never sell it!” Bill exclaimed. “When my time is up, I’ll donate it, along with the rest of my collection, to the City Museum.”
Where did you get it? Who sold it to you?” John demanded, slamming his hands down onto the table and glaring at the bird. “I’ve been after the Cyprian Duck for years.” Bill laughed. “That’s a secret!” He noticed the bags his guests were carrying and asked good-naturedly, “Have you all come bearing gifts?” Julie swung a huge bag onto the dining room table, making the gold and jeweled duck jump. “I brought a twenty-pound turkey to cook up tomorrow.” Ted set a pair of bags on the table. “I brought a green bean casserole, a pecan pie and a pumpkin pie.” John dropped a paper bag on the table. “I brought a couple of bottles of cider for the occasion.”
Bill and his guests went to bed early, leaving the Cyprian Duck glowing in all its glory on the dining room table.
When Bill awoke early Thanksgiving morning, he found his beloved bird gone from its perch.
The police were called in, along with a tracking dog. They searched the house and luggage of all three guests, but the Cyprian Duck could not be found.
“Well,” Ted said, after the police had left, “we’d better start cooking the turkey.”
Ted pulled open the refrigerator and looked in on the giant tin-foiled bird and the other Thanksgiving dishes and bottles that had been assembled for the holiday dinner.
But Bill threw up his arms and cried out, “Who can eat at a time like this?” There were tears in his eyes.
“Why don’t we forget about cooking the turkey and dine out instead. It would be far better than hanging around the house all day,” Julie suggested.
“That’s a good idea,” John agreed. “Let’s leave the scene of the crime, Bill. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the duck. We can donate Julie’s turkey to a homeless shelter.”
“Who cares about turkey when my beautiful Cyprian Duck is missing?” Bill angrily marched over to the refrigerator, dragging out the bird in question and throwing it on the floor. It landed with a heavy thud, the tinfoil split open at one end, and the Cyprian Duck slid out.