Merry, Merry Ghost

drawer. She lifted out a twenty-two pistol, held it for a moment, gave a decisive nod.

As she walked toward the small table near the door and her purse, my view of her changed. She became more formidable. Though some Adelaidians never hunt, a good many do. From the ease with which she handled the gun, I thought it likely she was from a hunting family. That a single woman familiar with guns possessed one wasn’t surprising. That she felt the need to take the gun tonight to the abandoned brick plant told me she was uneasy about the person she was meeting.

I thought of the possible suspects: Jake Flynn, Gina Satterlee, Tucker Satterlee, Harrison Hammond, Charlotte Hammond, and, possibly, Dave Lewis. Kim knew one of them well enough to feel confident in suggesting a conspiracy to suppress the new will. She also knew that person well enough to feel it would be wise to be armed when meeting late at night in an isolated setting.

As she opened her purse to slip the small gun inside, I saw the unmistakable creamy envelope that held Susan’s will.

The night shift was at work in the police department. I passed the dispatcher’s office, heard laconic exchanges with patrol cars. In Chief Cobb’s office on the second floor, the table was covered with open folders and stacks of paper. He absently munched on M&M’s and made occasional notations on a legal pad, his heavy face molded into a frown of dissatisfaction.

The clock read thirty-six minutes after ten. I had to make up my mind quickly. Kim would likely leave her apartment in about fifteen minutes. It was approximately a five-minute drive to the abandoned brick plant on the southeast side of Adelaide near the railroad tracks. For more than a half century, red and white clay had been mined from open pits and made into bricks there, but the plant closed down not long before Bobby Mac and I set out on our last voyage on the Serendipity. The complex at one time included the plant, ten downdraft kilns, several smokestacks, two open pits, a boiler plant, a water tower, a filter house and pump house plant, a spur rail line, and more. I’d created many leaflets for the mayor’s office celebrating highlights of Adelaide, including the brick plant, the annual August rodeo, the cement plant, and Goddard College.

I wanted to accompany Kim as she drove to the brick plant. I had no intention of permitting her to give Susan’s will to anyone other than Wade Farrell. Somehow I’d intercept that exchange. But I couldn’t gamble with Kim’s life. If the person she had contacted turned out to be Susan’s murderer, Kim could be in grave danger when she reached the water tower even though she was armed. The abandoned brick plant was a sensible place for two persons to meet who wished to do so without observation, but the remote area was also shadowy and private. Violence could flare in an instant.

The clock hand ticked as it moved. I had one minute less to decide.

There was no time for subtlety. Officer M. Loy couldn’t handle this assignment on her own. Yet the Precept was unequivocal: Work behind the scenes without making your presence known. I hoped Wiggins would understand.

I picked up a piece of chalk, began to write.

Chief Cobb’s hand with another half dozen M&M’s stopped halfway to his mouth. His eyes, wide and shocked, watched as the words took shape:

S. Flynn wrote new will Sat night. Stolen from A.M. mail by W. Farrell’s sec.

Weaver taking will to brick plant now.

I underlined now.

Set up immed. surveillance there. W. to enter E. gate 11 P.M., meet unknown person at water tower.

I hesitated, then added:

Trust me. Officer M. Loy

I added a quick P.S.

Leon Butler witnessed will.

Chief Cobb took a deep breath. Lines grooved on either side of his broad mouth.

He had the air of a man in a cemetery alone on a dark night who hears stealthy footsteps and rustling in the bushes and the unsettling hoo of an owl.

I understood his mental vertigo as he teetered on the edge of the unknown. I gripped the chalk:

I’ll be with her. Officer Loy

Eyes fixed on the blackboard, he absently tossed the M&M’s in his mouth.

I grabbed the eraser and in three sweeping movements swiped away the message, all of it, leaving only the white smudges to indicate the board had been used. I placed the eraser and chalk in the tray.

Chief Cobb pushed up from the table, rushed to his desk, punched the intercom. “Get Price…”

I reached Kim’s apartment as she shrugged into a brown corduroy car coat and picked up her purse. She whistled cheerfully as she shut the apartment door. She hurried downstairs and out to her car.

I rode in the passenger seat. We left behind the lights of town and followed a rutted dirt road empty of cars. I bent forward, touched Kim’s purse, dropped carelessly on the car floor. To be so near yet so far was frustrating. However, if all went well, the will should be in Chief Cobb’s possession soon. I hoped that in the meager time at his disposal, Chief Cobb had successfully deployed his officers. I hoped they were well hidden, watching the east entrance and the water tower.

Kim’s Chrysler PT Cruiser hummed as she pressed on the accelerator. The road curved and twisted as we approached the dark plant. I held to the hand grip above the door. Kim braced with an elbow. Her seat belt dangled unused. Was she simply careless or did she resent any constraint imposed by authority? She slowed as she neared the east entrance. A ramshackle gate was pulled wide.

I wondered who had opened the gate and how. As we passed into the grounds, I glimpsed a broken chain dangling from a bar.