All he wanted was a sanctuary, to get in out of the open for a while, where they couldn’t find him.
—Cornell Woolrich, “The Heavy Sugar”
ON THE ROAD back to Quindicott, I called Eddie Franzetti’s office at the QPD. The dispatcher informed me that Eddie was still in Providence with his wife and they would not return until tomorrow—which meant part of our plan was already wrecked.
Seymour, Brainert, and I would have to implement our scheme—and likely face an armed man—without Eddie to back us up. There was no one else on the police force familiar enough with the case to even grasp what we had to tell them. If I let Chief Ciders in on our scheme he would likely have all of us arrested!
Soldiering on with our original plan, Seymour, Brainert, and I stopped at the Finch Inn next. It was nearly two o’clock when we arrived and I kept an eye out for Hollis West’s fancy sports car. But it was Seymour who spotted the vehicle, parked at the far end of the inn’s lot, beside the path that led to the Lighthouse, where Peyton was staying.
While Brainert watched the desk, Seymour and I pulled Fiona into the library and told her how we found Norma, what we learned, and our scheme to clear Norma of false charges of theft and murder.
Fiona reluctantly agreed to our plan but insisted I make all the arrangements. I was fine with that, so our next stop was Spencer’s elementary school. After getting permission from the principal—let’s face it, Mrs. McConnell owed me—I was handed a hall pass to visit Mr. Alan Burke’s classroom.
I did not let Mr. Burke in on what was really going on, or what we were planning. I simply suggested a new venue for his science prodigies to showcase their projects before the science fair.
“I think that is a wonderful idea, Mrs. McClure. I’m sure my students would love to show off their skills to the people in our community.”
“I’m sorry it’s such short notice,” I said, “but it has to be set up by tonight at seven o’clock.”
“No problem. These are smart kids. They can pull it together in time.”
“And remember what I said about Susan Trencher’s project.”
Mr. Burke nodded. “Up front where everyone in the community can see the pollution right in our backyard.”
Well, something like that, I thought.
The end-of-school bell rang a few minutes later, and I grabbed my son before he got on the bus.
“Get in,” I said, pushing him into Seymour’s vintage Volkswagen. As usual, Spencer failed to see the vehicle’s charm.
“It smells in here,” he said.
“Hey, you little brat!” Seymour cried. “I’ll have you know—”
“We went camping,” I interrupted. “You’re smelling the campfire smoke. Now, listen. I need to know if you got any fingerprints off that television knob.”
Spencer’s eyes lit up. “Two solid prints, Mom. I don’t know who those fingerprints belong to, but—”
“We’re going to find out,” I interrupted. “And by securing those prints you may have saved someone from prison.”
“Wow! Mom, you’ve got to tell me—”
“I’ll tell you everything, but you have to wait until tomorrow. In the meantime, I want you to keep that knob and a copy of those prints in a safe place. Okay? Deputy Chief Franzetti is out of town, but as soon as he gets back I will be handing them over to him. Got it?”
“I got it, Mom. I’ll be sure to hide it somewhere safe just as soon as I get home.”
“And remember, mum’s the word.”
Spencer mock-zipped his lips, them muttered incomprehensively.
“What?”
“I said my lips are sealed, Mom. That’s why I mumbled. Didn’t you get the joke?”
I got it, Jack said with a laugh. The ghost had returned, at last. Your little scrapper is a real George Burns.
Thank goodness you’re here, Jack. I have plenty to tell you—
Oh, I’ve been listening, and watching. And I have to admit I’m impressed.
With me?
With the lummox and the sheepskin—
You mean Seymour and Brainert?
Yeah, the two stooges almost seem . . . competent. I am truly amazed.
Well, just wait a little, Jack. I’m sure they’ll find a way to lose your newfound respect for them real soon.
Next, Seymour drove us over to the First Presbyterian Church. While the others waited in the car, I paid a visit to Reverend Waterman.
“You once told the flock that you and Mrs. Waterman met when you were both playing summer stock.”
“That’s true, and I remember that time fondly,” the reverend replied.
“Of course. You met your future wife.”
Reverend Waterman nodded impatiently. “That, too. But I was more excited about headlining Guys and Dolls. I played Sky Masterson. That was Marlon Brando’s role in the movie, you know? We played nine weeks!”
“Well, I need you and Mrs. Waterman to do a little acting tonight, for a much smaller audience. An audience of one, in fact.”
I filled them in on all I’d learned, then gave them the “script.” The Watermans agreed immediately.
“What now, Pen?” Seymour asked when I returned to the Volkswagen.
“We’ve got all the actors in place,” I said. “Now we have to get our own act together . . .”