Chapter 48

	Their costume, of a Sunday,
	Some manner of the Hair—
	A prank nobody knew but them
	Lost, in the Sepulchre—
	EMILY DICKINSON

Homer Kelly came in like thunder, his face extraordinary. He saw Mary leaning, pale and drawn, against the desk and stopped short. Then he turned to the wall and struck it a great blow with his clenched fist. “My God, all the desk man said was ‘one of the librarians …’”

Then he recovered himself and walked unsteadily over to the Thoreau alcove where Jimmy Flower had already started to work. Jimmy looked at him and shook his head, a sign of pain. There was a bright flash from the photographer’s equipment. Homer knelt down and looked at Alice Herpitude. Then he got up and went to Mary and took her roughly by the arm, looking savage. “Where were you?” he said. “Were you anywhere near her?”

Mary laughed lightly. “Oh, I was up on the balcony, pushing over p-pieces of sculpture.”

Homer glared at her. Then he saw that one of her eyes looked queer, with the water in it. He turned abruptly away, and started questioning Grandmaw Hand. Grandmaw was holding up heroically, being factual and terse. She was a remarkable woman.

Dr. Allen came in with his bag and bent over Miss Herpitude’s body. Mary turned away. The investigation didn’t interest her any more. She heard Homer tearing into Harold Vine.

“You lost him? When? How? Why in hell …?”

“Gee, I’m sorry.”

“Gee, you’re sorry,” sneered Homer. “Oh, damn it, it’s my own fault. There we were, assuming Charley was too much of a gentleman to do anything nasty or unsporting like run away and kill somebody. Oh, my God, why didn’t I go on ahead and put him in the lockup this afternoon, in spite of the D.A.?” He beat the side of his head with his fist. “Well, okay, Harold, so What happened?”

“Oldest trick in the book. Charley headed up toward Main Street, just ambling along, then he wandered down the Milldam until he got to Monument Square by the Civil War Memorial (you know, where it says ‘Faithful unto Death’), and then he just sat down for a while, leaning against it and looking up at the sky, like looking for airplanes, only there weren’t any. I felt awful stupid, walking along about half a block behind him, pretending to be minding my own business. I had to walk past him and go around the corner there by the Middlesex Fire Insurance Company. Well, after a while he got up and went toward the Colonial Inn, where you folks were. I saw you in there, having a beer. He went in, and I went in, and then he went toward the Men’s Room. So, stupid jerk that I am, I waited for him to come out. And of course he went out the window. I guess I’m not much good at tailing. He must have known I was there.”

Homer turned to Jimmy Flower. “How did he get in here and out again?”

“The coalbin window. All the others were locked from the inside. There Wasn’t even hardly any coal in it, so he may have got away without any coal dust on him anywhere. I’ve got the state police out on the road, looking for his car.”

But then the phone rang. It was Morey Silverson, at the Goss house. He had found Charley right at home, all tucked up in bed.

“Well, thank God for that,” said Jimmy. “What did he say he was doing after he got rid of Harold Vine?”

“Oh, some story about just wanting to walk around for the last time under the stars as a free man,” said Morey. “No, he didn’t think anybody saw him. He says he cut down to the river behind the Department of Public Works, then worked his way back up to the Milldam, got his car and went home to bed.”

“Well, he’s in for it now,” said Jimmy lugubriously. “And so are we. If it hadn’t been for the dumb D.A.…Now, we’re all going to be drawn and quartered.”