“What happened?” I asked, as I rolled my window up again.
“We were playing Parcheesi in the social hall,” one of the men said. “To help keep awake.”
“And we took a break every hour and patrolled,” the plump woman said. “Inside, of course—what a beastly night!”
“And just a little while ago, we smelled smoke coming from the undercroft,” the man went on. “Hank and I went down to check things out, and there was a fire in the furnace room!”
“We emptied the fire extinguishers on it without doing much good,” said another man—Hank, I supposed. “So we called 911.”
“And evacuated,” the plump woman said. “And would to goodness we’d taken the time to grab our coats.”
“Good thing we didn’t,” the first man said.
“Wouldn’t have hurt,” the woman said. “Church hasn’t burned down yet.”
“You didn’t see that fire,” Hank countered. “Meg, can you pull a little closer to the church so we can see what’s going on?”
I started the car again, and carefully crept through the parking lot until I found a spot with a better view of what was going on. Some of the firefighters—including Michael; I recognized him by his height—were dashing in through the front door, dragging hoses behind them while others had gone down into the basement stairwell. But they appeared to have halted there. I could see several of them standing at ground level, holding the hose or their axes, peering down. Then I heard a smashing noise, and the firefighters set up a cheer, and they all disappeared into the basement.
We watched in silence for a few moments.
“Looks a bit more serious than ducks and skunks,” one man finally said.
More smoke billowed out of the basement door, and a little out of the front door of the church. Was that a bad thing? A sign that the fire was spreading? More likely it meant the firefighters were pouring water on the blaze.
I noticed two of Chief Burke’s deputies working their way around the left side of the church, giving the clouds of smoke a wide berth. The chief himself was standing in the parking lot, well out of the firefighters’ way, but visibly impatient for them to finish their job so he could start his.
After a while he spotted my car and strolled over. I rolled down my window.
“Evening, Chief,” I said.
“Morning, I think,” he said. “One of these days you’re going to have to let Michael and Rob go to a fire all by themselves. Are these the folks who called in the alarm?”
My passengers poured out their story, interrupting each other in their haste. The chief heard them out, then took their names and numbers.
“I hate to ask it, but would you good people mind staying here until the fire’s out and I can get into the church?” he asked. “I’d like to take your detailed individual statements as soon as possible.”
“No problem,” Hank said.
“We’re the night owls,” the plump woman said with a small laugh. “We were planning to stay up all night to watch over the church.”
“Looks as if we failed,” another man said.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Chief Burke said. “Looks as if you called 911 in time to save the church.”
He pointed to the front doors, where firefighters had begun trickling out. I felt a sudden wave of relief when I saw Michael’s tall form among them.
“Is it the same prankster, Chief?” one of the men asked.
“Too early to tell,” he said. “Were the five of you the only people in the church?”
“Yes,” said the plump woman.
“As far as we know,” muttered one of the men.
“The doors and windows all locked?” the chief asked.
“And checked every hour,” the plump woman said, nodding vigorously.
“And you didn’t let anyone else in at any time?”
The members of the watch all shook their heads, some of them frowning uneasily.
“Good.” The chief nodded absently. He appeared to be lost in thought. I hoped the watch members were reassured by the fact that he was staring into space, not at any of them. I know I would have been relieved.
Chief Featherstone came over.
“We’re still finishing up in the basement,” he said. “But the fire’s out, and you’re welcome to come in and start your investigation. And I expect these folks would like to get in out of the cold. Okay with me as long as they stay out of the basement.”
“And with me as well,” Chief Burke said. He turned and strode toward the church. My passengers all murmured thanks to me and scrambled out of the car to follow. I decided to tag along.
Since the night watch had all been in the social hall when the fire broke out, the chief sent them there, with orders not to talk to each other until he’d interviewed them—and a deputy to watch over them and make sure they followed orders. I went along and busied myself making a pot of coffee so I’d look useful enough that they wouldn’t kick me out. In fact, I decided, I’d fill the big pot we used for receptions. The firefighters might want some before they went home, and there were bound to be more deputies showing up soon, not to mention curious parishioners.
When the coffee was ready, I grabbed a cup with my good hand and went out to hand it to one of the firefighters or deputies, so I’d have a good excuse for taking a look around. I spotted the two chiefs in the vestibule, talking intently about something. I headed their way.
Then I saw my dad appear in the vestibule, medical bag in hand. He said a few words to the two chiefs, then trotted briskly in my direction.
“Morning, Meg,” he said when he spotted me. “Terrible business.”
He disappeared down the basement steps.
I went to the head of the stairs and peered down. A deputy was standing at the foot of the stairs. He turned, and I recognized him as Vern Shiffley, one of Randall’s many cousins.
“No one’s allowed down here,” he said.
“Not sure I even want to go down there,” I said. “Coffee?”
“Thanks.” He trudged up the stairs, looking glum, and took the cup from me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Is it bad down there? Was anyone hurt?”
“We have a body,” he said. “Looks like the prankster went too far this time.”
Chapter 23
“A body?” I flinched at the thought. “Who?”
He looked for a moment as if he were about to tell me to mind my own business, then his face fell.
“It’ll get out soon enough. That old gentleman who used to run the First Farmers Bank of Caerphilly before it got bought up by that out-of-state bank.”
“Barliman Vess?”
“That’s him.” Over Vern’s shoulder I could see the chief had spotted us talking and was heading our way. I braced myself to be kicked out.
“I gather Mr. Vess works here or something?” Vern asked.
“He’s a vestryman.”
I could tell from Vern’s face that he didn’t know the word.
“The vestry is very similar to what you Presbyterians would call the session,” I said. “Group of people elected from the congregation to help govern the church.”
“So he’s what we’d call an elder?” Vern asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Hello, Chief,” I added.
“Any idea what Mr. Vess was doing in the furnace room at three in the morning?” Chief Burke asked.
“None whatsoever,” I said. “We had a night watch staying here in the church—those people who were warming up in my car. They were keeping a lookout in case the prankster came back. But they were all in the social hall, as they told you, playing Parcheesi between patrols. You can ask them if Mr. Vess was with them—though I think they’d have mentioned it if one of their number never made it out of the church.”
The chief nodded.
“The only thing I can think of—” I began. And then I stopped myself, because what I had been about to say suddenly seemed foolish.
“Go on,” the c
hief said after a moment.
“Mr. Vess was kind of a gadfly,” I explained. “Particularly on church financial issues.”
“Useful to have a retired banker for that,” the chief said.
“Except he drove everyone crazy,” I said. “He was always going on about overspending, and trying to catch people being wasteful—or worse, dishonest. Mother said last year he was putting marked bills in the collection plate to see if the people adding up the offering were honest.”
“What could he have been trying to find out in the basement?”
“No idea,” I said. “Robyn—Reverend Smith—might know. Or my mother. She’s on the vestry with Mr. Vess.”
The chief turned to Vern.
“It would help if we knew whether Mr. Vess was killed in the furnace room or whether his body was moved there later,” he said.
“I’ll ask Dr. Langslow.” Vern headed down the stairs.
“So you think he hid in the church after the concert and then came out to do—whatever he came to do,” the chief said.
“No, he couldn’t possibly have been hiding in the church after the concert,” I said. “I locked up for Robyn while she was seeing people out, and I’d have found him.”
“He could have been hiding in a closet,” the chief said. “Or the men’s room.”
“The bathrooms are one-person and unisex,” I said. “And I checked them all. And all the closets. I remember one time Mr. Vess hid in the broom closet for hours so he could find out who was constantly leaving the lights on after choir practice. So I checked everywhere.”
“You were checking for Mr. Vess?” The chief looked confused and a little suspicious.
“No, I was looking for potential pranksters, but I remembered how easily he’d hidden in the closets, so I figured if he could hide in closets, so could they.”
“I suppose you checked all the doors,” the chief said. “Including that little door at the far end of the basement.”
“The door that would be just perfect for sneaking in with a small cage of skunks?” I said. “Absolutely.”
“Actually, this time it was rabbits,” he said. “And they’re fine,” he added hastily, seeing the look on my face. “A little frightened, but they were at the far end of the furnace room. The fire didn’t get that far.”
I nodded, and found I had to blink back tears. For the rescued rabbits, or Barliman Vess? I wasn’t sure.
“Only two of them,” the chief went on. “Not much of a prank compared to the others.”
“Maybe Mr. Vess interrupted the perpetrators while they were unloading the rabbits and they fled with most of them,” I said. “You could put out an APB. See if you can find anyone in possession of a suspicious number of rabbits. Just kidding,” I added, seeing that the chief didn’t seem to like my suggestion.
“Indeed,” he said. “Actually, since the rabbits turned out to be stolen from the fifth grade classroom at Caerphilly Elementary, which only had two to begin with, I don’t think we’ll be uncovering any hoards of contraband leporids.”
I decided to wait until he looked less stressed before making my other, more serious suggestion—that perhaps whoever had killed Vess had left the rabbits to make it seem as if Vess’s murder was connected to the other pranks. Although the odds were, the chief had already thought of it.
“By the way,” I said aloud. “I know no one was hiding in the church when I left, but I’m not sure it’s all that significant. I don’t think the locks have been rekeyed in twenty years, and both Robyn and Father Rufus have been pretty quick to give a key to anyone with a legitimate purpose. Including some of the people from other churches who were here at Trinity over the last few days. Like Lightfoot and Randall’s construction people.”
The chief sighed and nodded.
“It’s the same at New Life,” he said. “The reverend is always more interested in bringing people in than keeping them out. We won’t be solving this one based on who has access to my crime scenes. But thanks.”
“Chief, there’s something else,” I said. “Did you get my call last night?” I decided that was more tactful than “Why the heck haven’t you returned my last three phone calls?”
He nodded. I looked around to make sure no one else was nearby.
I noticed he did, too.
“You have some relevant information?” he asked, in a low voice.
“Do you know Caleb Shiffley and Ronnie Butler?” I asked.
“Yes.” He nodded slightly. “Both fine young men. I believe they’re seniors this year. Both on the basketball team, in fact. Ronnie is a member of the New Life congregation, and I believe Caleb, like most of the Shiffleys, attends First Presbyterian. What about them?”
“They were the ones who put the skunks in the choir loft. I overheard them talking about it. And the snake here.”
The chief looked at me for few moments, expressionless.
“Yes,” he said finally.
“You already know?”
“I didn’t quite know,” he said. “But I suspected. In fact, I was suspicious of Caleb almost from the start.”
“You were?” I exclaimed. “Why?”
“Caleb helps his father out at the Shiffley Exterminating Service. His father usually assigns him to go deep into the woods to release the animals that are being returned to the wild. The most plausible explanation I could come up with for the sudden appearance of so many skunks was that some of the rescued skunks had not been released as planned over the last few months. And Caleb and Ronnie are inseparable. Have been since grade school. I figured if one was in on it, it was almost certain the other was.”
“So you were just gathering evidence?” I asked. “Before confronting them or arresting them or whatever?”
He sighed.
“Gathering evidence, yes, but frankly, I was hoping when they realized how much trouble they’d caused, they’d both come forward and offer to make amends. But after the duck incident, I had no choice. I was already planning to bring them and their parents into the station this morning. If only I hadn’t waited.”
“So you didn’t return any of my calls because you already knew about them,” I said. “Makes sense.”
“I’m sorry.” He seemed to be wincing slightly. “There was also the fact that I’ve gotten at least a hundred calls over the last day and a half, all from people who were sure they knew who had committed the pranks.”
“Now I feel guilty, adding to the avalanche,” I said. “I probably should have just relayed the information I had to Debbie Anne. Or one of your deputies.”
“Actually,” the chief said. “I suspected, with all the time you’d been spending around the New Life choir, that your suspicions might be a lot more accurate than most, but I wanted to see if I could induce the boys to come clean first.”
“Before I gave you concrete information that forced you to take more drastic action.”
“I was … well, yes. Precisely. I wanted to handle it privately, with apologies to Reverend Wilson and Father Donnelly, complete financial restitution, and a stiff unofficial course of community service to the two churches.”
I nodded. I hoped Josh and Jamie never did anything as stupid as the pranks, but if they did, I hoped the chief was still around to help us deal with it.
“I was wrong,” the chief went on. “I let myself be swayed by my good opinion of the young men. My desire to avoid ruining their futures. If I’d only brought them in after the duck prank, perhaps they’d have stopped, and whatever tragic sequence of events happened here last night would never have taken place.”
“But they didn’t do the duck prank,” I said. “And I doubt if they did this. They did the skunks and the snakes—I overheard them talking about it on Saturday. But they had nothing to do with the ducks. That’s what I was calling last night to tell you.”
Chapter 24
“Didn’t do the duck prank?” The chief looked surprised, and a little skeptical. “Are you sure? And how do you know?”
I relayed what I’d heard in the hallway at Trinity on Saturday, what I’d seen on Riddick’s computer, and then what I’d overheard Sunday afternoon.
“So you see why I don’t think Caleb and Ronnie did anything after the snake incident.” I didn’t realize until I was finishing up my account how much the information had been weighing on me.
“You believed them, then?”
“Yes,” I said. “They had no idea anyone was listening, and they sounded utterly truthful. They were both reproaching the other for committing the duck prank—doing something so stupid, something that was likely to get them caught, after they’d agreed to lie low.”
He pondered for a few moments. I glanced down the hallway and saw that a couple of the deputies were looking at us, obviously impatient, but not about to interrupt the chief when he was so intent on a conversation.
“Anything else?” he asked.
Should I tell him about Rose Noire’s premonition of danger in the church and her suspicions of Lightfoot? He’d probably only find it annoying. And what good were premonitions about something that had now already happened? I shook my head.
“Keep this to yourself for now,” he said finally.
I nodded.
“It’s possible that whoever did this is hoping the blame will fall on the boys,” he went on.
“And you want the real culprit to think that he’s succeeded so you can catch him off his guard. Or her.”
“Or them,” he added. “Precisely. So tell no one.”
“Not even Michael?”
He frowned for a moment.
“I think we may rely on Michael’s discretion as well,” he said finally. “But no one else.”
“Especially not my dad,” I said. “Who would probably manage to tell the whole county within a few hours—swearing them all to secrecy, of course.”
That got a slight smile out of him.
“Speaking of your father, I need to talk to him. Stick around, if possible. I may need your help to sort out what went on here.”
With that he started down the stairway toward the basement. I headed back for the parish hall, to wait with the others there. Just as I was about to enter it, Horace dashed through the front door. The deputies in the vestibule pointed him toward the stairway.
Duck the Halls Page 14
