It was a 1958 Steinway Grand. Model M—the big one. Ebony finish. Art Deco case. Though the bench had worn upholstery and broken hinges, the piano appeared to be in good condition. Mike scribbled the serial number on his inventory form and paused for a moment to admire the instrument.
It was positioned in the southwest corner of the living room, the vast, open room that served as the central axis of this classic, mid-century ranch house. From here the house rambled off in two directions: one wing for the bedrooms, the other to the library and the study. In the back the kitchen and breakfast room shared a pass-through fireplace with the living room.
Through floor-to-ceiling windows, Mike could see lush stands of palms and birds of paradise, exotic aloe trees, pocket gardens of colorful succulents around the edge of a cool, green lawn. An amoeba-shaped pool opened up in the middle, the whole ten acres backed up against the golden rocks and chaparral of the Malibu canyon walls that hugged the place on three sides. Heaven. […]
