The Pastor’s Daughter: Episode XXX

Before I caught the first train to Atlantic City on Monday morning, I called Candace at her apartment.

“What’s up, Harry,” she said. “I have been waiting for your call. What’s going on?”

“Plenty,” I replied. “But I can’t talk about it now. I’m in a rush. I’m taking a train to Atlantic City in five minutes to attend the inquest. We’ll hang out together when I get back.”

“But you keep saying that, Harry. I’m sure there’s something wrong. I’m really worried about you. Tell you the truth, I have a feeling you are avoiding me.”

“How could you say that, Candace?” I replied. “Of course I’m not avoiding you! I’ve been busy. Common Candace, take it easy, will you? I’ve only got a couple of minutes. Here’s something you can do for me, if you don’t mind. The police have taken the guard off Brittany’s family house at Victory Villa. The key is with the parish secretary. Will you get the house cleared for me?”

“Sure,” she said.

“I hope to be back to Middle River sometime tomorrow, and I will call you, I promise. Can you do something about the house today?”

“I’ll try,” she said.

Tell Phorbus the Reverend want it done. He won’t bother you if you say that to him.”

“And you promise to call me as soon as you get back?”

“Yes, of course,” I said. “I have to go now. Talk to you soon.”

When the taxi dropped me off at Penn Station in Baltimore City, I had to run into the station to catch the train.

I reached Atlantic City soon after ten-thirty, I booked a room for the night at the Marriott Hotel, had a wash, then took a cab to the coroner’s court.

I was expecting to see other witnesses, so I  was surprised that I was the only witness to be called. Lieutenants Reid and Ludlum were there. Lieutenants Reid gave me a long, gloomy stare and then looked away. Lieutenant Ludlum nodded, but he didn’t come over.

Russell Jacoby, the coroner, a clean-shaven little man, avoided meeting my eyes. Although he kept looking in my direction, he always managed to focus on a spot just above my head at the last moment.

I was called upon to identify Brittany’s body and to explain why she had been in Atlantic City.

I saw three reporters sitting at the  court. They looked bored, and their expressions became gloomier as I explained that, as far as I knew, Brittany had rented a vacation house for a month’s vacation. There was nothing said about her renting it in the name of Mrs. Graham Reed.

As if for something to say, Russell Jacoby asked me if I knew if Brittany had had a phobia for heights. I almost said she had, but, catching Lieutenant Reid’s sardonic eyes at this moment, I told him that I don’t really know.

After a series of questions that I thought were irrelevant to the case, Russell Jacoby indicated that I could step down. He then called Lieutenant Ludlum.

Lieutenant Ludlum’s evidence electrified the three reporters and a few other people there who had come in to pass an hour out of the heat. He said he is convinced Brittany’s death wasn’t an accident. He and Atlantic City police were pursuing certain investigations that would probably prove that Brittany was murdered. He said he would like the inquest adjourned until Monday, since they should be able to successfully conclude their investigations by that date.

Russell Jacoby looked as if somebody just slapped him on the face. He said he hoped the Lieutenant have good reasons for asking for an adjournment, and Lieutenant  Ludlum said quietly that he had. After a long hesitation, Russell Jacoby granted the adjournment, and left the room in a hurry, as if he were scared someone would question his authority for granting Lieutenant  Ludlum’s request.

The three reporters cornered Lieutenant  Ludlum, but he had nothing to tell them. As they made for the door, I blocked their way.

“I think I know you guys from somewhere,” I said and smiled at them.

“Of course we know you, Mr. Harry,” the reporter for East County Times said. “But this news is hot, and don’t try to stop us.”

“Why should I,” I said. “I’m sure you will print facts and not opinions. Don’t say I hadn’t warned you.”

They shoved past me and ran for their cars.

“Mr. Harry…”

I turned.

Lieutenant Reid was standing at my side.  He had a bleak expression in his eyes.

“What’s eating you, Lieutenant?” I asked.

“Mr. Harry, I need a favor from you. We are looking for the guy who was at Atlantic City on the day Brittany Waters died. From the descriptions we have obtained from witnesses, we believe we are getting close to finding this guy. So, we are arranging an identity parade. Somehow, your height looked the same as this guy. Do you mind being a member of this parade?”

I felt a cold, sinking feeling inside down my  spine.

“I’ve got a call to make…” I said in a voice I couldn’t recognize as mine.

“It will only take a few minutes, Mr. Harry,” Lieutenant Reid said. “Please come with me.”

Behind him were two policemen, and they moved forward, smiling at me.

I went with them.

There were ten me already standing in a line: two of them were black men, one looked like and Irishman, and the rest were Mexicans. They were all shapes and sizes, but the two black men were about my height.

“It will only take a few seconds, Mr. Harry,” Lieutenant Reid said with the air of a nurse who is about to check a patient’s blood pressure.

A door opened and a thick-set white guy came in. His unshaven face looked embarrassed as he stood looking along the line. I recognized him immediately as the taxi-driver who had driven me from Atlantic City to Absecon train station on the mad rush to catch the train to Penn Station, Baltimore City.

He looked down the line and his eyes rested on me. He stared at me for about four seconds. Those few seconds felt like an eternity, and I found I was beginning to sweat. At last, he slapped his thigh with his hands, then turned around and went out.

I was tempted to wipe my face, but realizing that Lieutenant Reid was looking at me, I decided against it. When I met his eyes, he gave me a sour smile.

Another white guy was brought in.  I didn’t recognize this one. But by his worn overcoat and leather cap, I guessed he could be the attendant at the left luggage office at the Atlantic City train station where I had left my bag before walking out to the vacation house. His eyes went down the line until they reached me. We stared at each other for a while, then after looking at the other two men in the line, he went out.

They brought in two more white guys and a white lady. I did not recognize any of them. They too glanced down the line, their eyes passing over me. Because they concentrated more on one of the other guys at the far end of the line, I started feeling better. They stared at him and he stared back, grinning. I really envied him for his lack of a guilty conscience. To say the truth, I felt relieved that they didn’t stare at me as they had at him. I saw Lieutenant Reid was scowling. Soon, they all went away.

Lieutenant Reid indicated that the parade was over.

The ten men went away.

“Thank you, Mr. Harry,” Lieutenant Reid said to me as I moved after them. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience this may have caused you.”

“No problem at all,” I said. I saw he wasn’t happy with the outcome of the parade and I guessed the last three witnesses could have upset his hopes. “Did you find the man you are looking for?”

He looked fixedly at me.

“I can’t answer that question at the moment,” he replied and, nodding curtly, he walked away.

I left the coroner’s court and took a cab back to Marriott Hotel. Going up to my room, I put a call through to my Middle River office.

Candace told me she had arranged with the woman who deals in second-hand clothes to inspect the contents of Brittany’s family house that afternoon.

“The house should be cleared by tomorrow,” she said.

“Good job, Candace,” I said. “Is Phorbus there?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Could you put him on the line?”

“Sure,” she said. “But before I do that, I think you should know this: Lieutenant Ludlum has been asking questions about you.”

I stiffened.

“Interesting,” I said. “What vsort of questions?”

“He asked me if you knew Brittany Waters. He wanted to know if the name Mrs. Graham Reed meant anything to me.”

“Is that right? What was your response?” I found I was gripping the receiver unnecessarily hard.

“I told him that Mrs. Graham Reed meant nothing to me, and that you did know Brittany Waters.”

“Thanks Candace.”

There was an awkward pause, and then she said, “He also asked me if I knew where you were on the 29^th. I told him you were at your apartment, working on your book about Henry Ford.”

This girl is indeed an angel!

“That’s what I was doing, Candace,” I said. “It’s a true story.”

“I believe you,” she said.

There was another awkward pause, then she said, “I’ll put you through to Mr. Phorbus.”

“Thanks, Candace.”

After a moment or so, Phorbus came on the line.

“Hello Phorbus,” I said. “I believe you are having a good time?”

“What can I say,” he replied. “Tell you the truth, Harry, I would complain, but who would listen? What’s going on, anyway?”

I told him the coroner had postponed the inquest until Monday.

“Why? What’s biting him?” he asked.

“The police are convinced it’s murder.”

He whistled.

“That’s pretty,” he said. “I guess they must have their reasons?”

“Sure, they do,” I replied. “But they didn’t say. “Please call the head office and tell them the fact. You may also ask them for their opinion, or for some kind of guidance. It’s up to the Reverend whether they print or not. I’m certain the other newspapers will cover it.”

“Well,” he said. “I don’t know the facts, so I’m all ears.”

“Tell them the inquest is postponed until next Monday as both the Atlantic City and Middle River police want more time to make more inquiries. They have evidence that points to foul play.”

“Alright. Nothing more?”

“That’s all, Phorbus.”

“I’m on it. By the way, Harry, you didn’t by any chance bump the girl off, did you?”

I felt like an amateur boxer who had taken a low punch.

“What’s that?”

“Aw, skip it, Harry. I was only playing with you. That crazy cop was asking me questions about you and Brittany. He seems to think you knew her better than most.”

“Don’t mind him,” I said. “He’s crazy.”

“I believe you. I’ve always thought cops are crazy people. So long as your conscience is clear, why should you care?”

“That’s right,” I said. “ Now, please make the call, will you?”

Phorbus said he would get it off right away.

“Well, I’m gonna leave you alone. Try and keep out of trouble.”

He said he would.

END OF EPISODE XXX

P.S. Episode Thirty-One will be published here next Monday.