'No. That's all.'
'Okay. I understand Ruth always came to the store on Sundays, is that right?'
'Right after church.'
'Who knew about that?'
'Just about everybody, I guess. It wasn't a secret or anything,' Russ explained.
'You mean, everybody at your church knew?'
'I guess. Other people, too. Other friends.'
'Could you make up a list of all the people who knew about Ruth coming to the store on Sundays, Russ?'
He nodded, shoulders drooping as if even the thought of the task was too much for him.
Copin asked, 'You or your wife owe anybody money?'
'We never borrowed. Ruthie doesn't-didn't-believe in buying things you couldn't pay for.' He coughed, and passed a hand over his face trying to disguise his watery eyes.
Hallock said, 'Okay, that's all, thanks very much. Get that list to us soon as you can.' He squeezed Cooper's shoulder. 'Sorry about this, Russ.'
Hallock and Copin walked away, leaving Colin alone with Cooper.
'What should I do now?' Russ asked Colin, tears springing to his eyes.
'Why don't you go home, Mr. Cooper. Or to a friend's. Is there somebody I can call for you?'
'I don't know.' He rubbed his temples as if an answer would appear, like in a crystal ball. 'Maybe Annie.'
'Annie?'
'My minister. Yes, Annie. Could you call her?'
Colin hesitated for only a moment. 'Do you know her number?'
After a few false starts, Cooper gave it to him. Colin told him to sit down, and went across the street to the public phone in the parking lot. It rang four times before she answered.
Colin identified himself, then said, 'This isn't a social call.'
'Okay,' she said.
'You know Ruth and Russell Cooper?'
'Yes.'
He didn't know how to tell her gently. 'Ruth's been murdered. In her store. He's there now and asked me to call you. I…'
'I'll be right there.' She hung up.
Colin slowly walked back across the street. A few people were standing around rubbernecking. He'd been so intent on making his call to Annie Winters he hadn't noticed them before.
A man stopped him. 'What's going on, son?'
'I can't help you. Sorry,' Colin responded.
Back inside, he went over to Cooper and told him Annie was on her way.
Cooper said, 'Why would anyone want to kill Ruthie?'
Jesus, Colin wondered, did every survivor say the same thing about their murdered loved one? How many times had he heard it? He'd even said it himself. 'I don't know, Mr. Cooper,' he said, 'The police will find out, though.'
'Will they?'
'They'll try.'
'Was it a burglary?'
'I don't know.' Colin knew it wasn't. He tried desperately to think of something else to say to Cooper but couldn't. His mind was on Gloria Danowski and Ruth Cooper. What did they have in common? Gloria was thirty-one, Ruth must have been in her fifties. 'How old was your wife?' he asked.
'Fifty-six. Same as me. She just celebrated her birthday last week. I won't be fifty-six till Friday. I always kidded her, saying she robbed the cradle.' His mouth twisted to the right and then he was sobbing, his face in his hands. Cooper's shoulders heaved and he let out a bellow. Colin couldn't help thinking he sounded like a wounded animal. He wondered if that was how he'd sounded. At a loss as to how to comfort Cooper, he decided to give him privacy. He went over to Hallock and Copin.
'Got a statement, Chief?'
'We don't want to panic the people, Maguire. You know what I mean?'
'I do.'
'Good.' He ran thumb and forefinger over his long nose. 'Let's say it was a suspected burglary.'
'But it wasn't?'
'No way. Nothing's gone, not even looked through. Ruth Cooper came here every Sunday after church, somebody knew that. This thing was planned. Got in through the window in back, probably waited for her in her office. Motive? Who the hell knows? Who the hell ever knows with a psycho?'
'You think that's what he is, a psycho?'
'Don't you?'
'It looks that way. You know, Chief, it's one thing not to panic people and another to try and make them cautious.'
'You can do one without the other. We don't know enough yet to make any judgments about anything.'
'Don't you think you have a serial murderer on your hands?'
Hallock said, 'Two killings don't make a serial, Maguire.'
'What about the A?'
'What about it?'
'Any ideas?'
'Frankly, no.'
'She wasn't raped, was she?' He'd noticed the lower half of Ruth Cooper's clothing hadn't seem disturbed.
'Offhand I'd say no. We'll have to wait for the M.E.'s report to be definite on that.'
'What do you think about the M.O. being different?'
'You mean the fact that Danowski was strangled and Cooper's throat was cut?'
Colin nodded.
'Don't know. Got to be the same perpetrator though. The A.'
'Could be a copycat killer,' Colin offered.
'Maybe. But I don't think so. Too early for that.'
The front door opened and Reeves stuck his head in. 'Annie Winters is here, says Mister Cooper called her.'
'That's right,' Colin responded.
Reeves opened the door wider and Annie came in, went right to Cooper, and put an arm around him.
'So you'll be careful what you say, Maguire, okay?' Hallock emphasized.
'Don't worry.' He was looking at Annie, watching her tending Cooper. He liked what he saw.
Hallock and Copin left. Colin thought there was nothing more for him to do, but he wanted to speak to Annie. She was helping Cooper up, leading him toward the door. Colin got to it first and opened it for them.
Annie glanced at him. 'Thanks,' she said.
'Anything I can do?' he asked.
'I don't think so. I'm taking Russ back to the parsonage with me now if anyone needs him.'
He watched them go across the street to Annie's Escort, waiting until they drove off before he got into his own car. What he should do now was to interview the Cooper neighbors, get a line on Mrs. Cooper. Maybe she was sleeping with somebody, too. Maybe the A was for Adulteress. Or maybe A stood for the killer's mother's name. Or his wife's. Or any goddamn thing. Hallock was right: When you were dealing with a psycho there was nothing logical to go after.
But it was all absolutely logical to the murderer. Colin knew that whoever he was, cutting an A in his victim's chest made perfect sense to him. At this point the only thing they could rule out was that A stood for one. A. What else could it mean?
And then a stupid ditty from grade school was running through his head. The girls bouncing a ball in time to the words: 'A, my name is Alice, my husband's name is Al. We come from Alabama, and we sell apples.' It was funny
