Katherine Page - Body In The Belfry

“When you entered the belfry, Mrs. Fairchild, can you describe exactly what you saw ? Sometimes it helps if you close your eyes.”

Faith obediently shut her eyes, looked at the mental picture, and carefully began to put it into words. "It was very bright out, so it was a few seconds before I saw that somebody else was there on the other bench. I thought she was asleep because her head was on the bench. It looked like a very awkward way to sleep. Not very comfortable, tumbled over to one side. I stood up to leave, because I thought Benjamin might start to cry and disturb whomever it was. That was when I realized it was Cindy and that she had a knife with a pink rose twisted around it sticking out of her side.

“I tried to think what to do. She wasn't breathing and I knew she was dead. I remember thinking it wasn't any use to try to resuscitate her.”

Faith 's big blue eyes flew open, filled with some of the fear of the day before. "My next thought was that the murderer must be close by."

“Why did you think that?" Dunne queried.

“Because the body was warm. Oh, that's right. I put my hand in front of her mouth to see if I could feel any breath and I touched her neck to find a pulse. There wasn't any, but the skin was still warm." Faith shivered. " I knew she couldn't have been dead long. So I rang the bell."

“And a good thing too," MacIsaac noted. He was solidly in Faith's camp on the bell controversy and was contemplating nominating her for the Bronze Musket, a plaque awarded on Patriot's Day to a citizen who has contributed above and beyond the call of duty to the town. Had it not been for Faith's quick thinking, they would have wasted valuable time apprehending the perpetrator. Of course they hadn 't apprehended anyone yet, but they would. Towns like Aleford had few secrets for long. His thirty-year sojourn had taught him that.

Dunne nodded in agreement. " Now one or two other points, Mrs. Fairchild.”

Faith stiffened slightly. What on earth was she going to say about Dave ? Just then Benjamin began to scream angrily from his cage. Her relief was enormous. She started to get up, then changed her mind. Who knew what Tom would say if she left him alone ? By their very nature, most ministers are notoriously poor liars. His innate goodness, something she cherished, had the effect of both buoying her up and weighing her down. This was one of the times when she could feel the water level rising. She put her hand on his shoulder.

“Tom, dear, would you see what Ben needs and I'll come help as soon as we're finished here ? " Faith hoped the emphasis she put on "finished" wasn 't too obvious, but obvious enough to get them out of her living room.

Tom took Benjamin upstairs grudgingly, well aware that his wife was about to tell any number of, to her, perfectly justifiable falsehoods.

Dunne turned back to Faith and asked, " How did you know so quickly that it was Cindy Shepherd ? “

She was surprised and momentarily relieved. So he didn't want to know about Dave. Not yet anyway.

“ It wasn't hard. I recognized her hair first of all and she had on a nice turquoise and black Benetton sweater that she'd worn to the last Young People's dance at the church.”

She was also wearing those black stirrup pants, tacky and already passé, and turquoise ballerina flats, Faith recalled to herself. It was definitely an outfit and she was pretty sure what Cindy was wearing underneath was black lace or nothing at all. Not a class act, but proven effective. She wondered if Charley would tell her about the underwear if she got him alone some time.

Tom was back with a fussy Benjamin in his arms.

“I'm afraid he needs your particular talents, darling," he said with a touch of smugness as he handed Ben over.

“We're just leaving," Dunne said and stood up, occupying most of the airspace in the room. He walked over to Faith with MacIsaac at his heels. She noticed Dunne had on a well-cut Harris tweed sports jacket. She felt a little sorry for Charley, whose plain clothes usually took the form of an ancient Celtics jacket or shapeless brown overcoat. He'd been widowed a long time and his wardrobe had definitely remained in mourning.

Faith faced the two of them squarely. This is it, she thought.

Dunne spoke sternly, " What we are investigating here is a murder. And the murderer is still at large. We don't want to alarm you or your husband, but you must exercise simple caution until this is all wrapped up."

“You can 't mean that you think somebody wants to kill me ? " Faith protested.

“ Remember, the murderer may think you saw something you didn't.”

Faith blanched.

“We don't want you to lock yourself in the house day and night, Mrs. Fairchild. Just report any odd behavior to Chief MacIsaac or to me. Here's my card with numbers where I can be reached day or night. For instance, let us know if someone asks you a lot of questions about what you saw."

“ But that will be the whole town ! You might as well arrest Millicent McKinley and be done with it. Sorry, no I rpun intended.”

Dunne smiled, or grimaced, it was hard to tell. "None taken. Believe me, I'm used to it. My mother was a poetry lover," he added.

Charley spoke up, "She does have a point, John. Just about the entire town will have an unhealthy interest in all this. Maybe it would be better to focus on the folks who don't talk about it.”

Detective Dunne looked at him with something like respect, "Please be careful, Mrs. Fairchild, and keep in touch. Above all, don't play amateur detective." He turned to Tom, including him in his remarks, " You'd be amazed at how many people who are involved in crimes like this think they can do better than the police." Tom was standing near the fireplace. "You don 't say ?" His deliberately neutral tone was belied by a sudden flush on his face that could scarcely have been caused by the flamelike chrysanthemums.

“I blame TV," Dunne said, moving across the room to the door with the others in his wake. He stopped just before opening it.

“By the way, we haven't been able to locate Cindy 's boyfriend, Dave Svenson. Do you happen to know where he is? We'd like to ask him some questions.”

Before Tom could speak, Faith stepped in front of him.

“No," she said firmly, "We don't know where he is, but if we see him, we'll give him your message.”

All of which was perfectly true, she told herself, crossing her fingers behind her back to be on the safe side.

Since Dunne didn't say anything further, she added, " Is he a suspect then ? " There was no harm in asking.

Dunne looked at her intently. "Everybody's a suspect until we have a suspect." It was a good exit line and had never failed him yet.

MacIsaac was listening to a different drummer. A beat that kept you lingering on the doorstep.

“Oh, Tom, we'd like a list of the members of your Young People's group and anything else you think might pertain," he said.

“No problem. I'll get everything together for you and call the station. I would also appreciate it if you could let us know when the funeral can take place. I'll be seeing the Moores this afternoon.”

Charley looked at Dunne, who obviously wanted to be in the car backing out of the driveway by now, for an answer.

“They're doing the postmortem this morning, so I'dsay Monday or Tuesday. Tuesday to be on the safe side." He strode off purposefully.

Tom shut the door.

“Faith, what can you be thinking of? And crossing your fingers behind your back does not make a lie any less of a lie, as I believe I have told you God knows how many times before !"

“Hold on a minute, Thomas! First of all, God does know what I mean and even so I know very well what makes a lie and what doesn't. And next, I didn't see you blurting out that Dave had been here for breakfast !" Tom looked uncomfortable.