heated discussion with the director and his assistant. People in the audience were shouting to neighbors across the room. A stringer for the Aleford Chronicle was desperately begging Patrolman Warren to let him use a phone. The scoop of the century and he couldn't report in.
“Jesus.' Dunne looked amazed. 'The whole town's here!'
“Didn't Charley tell you?'
“He said they'd been shooting a scene, but no, he did not say that every man, woman, and child in Aleford was in it. I've got to call and get more help.”
On the way, Faith told him about Millicent's suggestion. It would have been safe to pass it off as Faith's own idea—and it would have been eventually—except this was the kind of lie she didn't tell.
The kitchen with its warmth and deep-seated associations welcomed her like a mother with a glass of milk and plate of freshly baked chocolate-chip cookies after school. Not her mother, but some mother.
From their lack of concern, it was clear that word had not filtered down to the Have Faith staff. She filled them in while Dunne helped himself to coffee and several dozen sandwiches.
“I don't believe it,' Pix stated firmly. 'I just don't believe it! How could he!”
This was a new slant on the matter and redefined the whole concept of blaming the victim. Pix was treating the murder as Alden's ultimate campaign tactic—'He would do anything to get elected,' her unspoken conviction.
The detective brushed the crumbs from his hands. He had come in wearing soft gray suede gloves, carefully removing them when he ate. Faith always thought he looked like a wedding guest who had taken a wrong turn when he appeared at an investigation.
“I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask all of you except Faith to come with me upstairs. We're going to need everybody in one place. She'll be joining you as soon as I finish talking to her.”
Oh, so no special treatment, Faith surmised while he was gone. She was to provide her information, then meekly join the rest of the herd. He was back soon.
“Now, Faith, for the love of God—and I know you do—will you please explain to me how it is you have managed to turn up with another body?' John perched on one of the high kitchen stools, creating an impossible balance that threatened at any moment to spill its top-heavy load onto the linoleum.
“One of our tables broke and I remembered the janitor had told me there were some others in a supply room behind Asterbrook Hall, so I went to look. I didn't find the right closet and so I kept going down toward the new addition. Then'—no maidenly blushes for Faith—'I had to go to the bathroom, and I remembered there was one there near the stairs. I opened a door, but it wasn't the bathroom; it was the storage room. I didn't notice Alden until I tripped over him. I thought he was a carpet.”
Dunne was writing it all down in his Filofax. It was a new one, Faith noticed—brown instead of black calf.
“Did you hear anything while you were looking for this room?'
“No' Faith thought hard. 'The old part of the building makes a lot of noises—creaks and groans—but nothing out of the ordinary. No cars pulling up or raised voices.'
“And obviously you didn't see anything.'
“No, not until I found Alden. But somebody was there. The lights in the hall went out shortly after I found the body.”
Dunne looked up, startled. 'Jesus, Faith! You might have been killed.”
The thought had crossed her mind.
“Whoever it was was more intent on avoiding recognition. Lucky for me.'
“Lucky!' John seemed about to say more, then picked up his gold Cross pen again and said evenly, 'Charley tells me Spaulding was running for the Board of Selectmen. You're not crying, so he wasn't a friend, but you must have known who he was”
Dunne lived in a much larger town. Despite his years in the area—far away from his beloved Bronx—he still had not caught on to the nuances of places like Aleford. Of course she would know Alden Spaulding.
“He was a parishioner—which reminds me, I haven't called Tom—and even though this was the only time Alden had run for selectman, he was involved in allsorts of Aleford institutions: Town Meeting, Chamber of Commerce.'
“What did he do?'
“He owns ... owned COPYCOPY.”
Dunne let out a soft whistle, just like the cops on TV. 'So he was worth a pretty penny.'
“Nothing was pretty about Alden, at least so far as I'm concerned, but yes, he was extremely wealthy.”
“We'll get back to your biases in a minute. First, who do you think will get the money? Wife? Kids?”
Faith hadn't thought about who would benefit. She did so now, aloud.
“He never married, and if he had any kids, someone, probably Millicent, would have spread the word. The only relative I know of is his half sister, Penelope Bartlett. His father remarried after his mother died and they had Penny. She's about seven years younger. But the two didn't get along, so Alden may have left his estate to charity.”
She stopped short at visions of a new roof for First Parish. She had been forcing herself not to think how relieved she was that Spaulding was very definitely out of the race for selectman. This happy new prospect was testing all her powers of restraint. One didn't jump up and shout for joy when someone died, particularly in such a manner. No matter how one might feel deep down inside. Faith's conscience shook its finger sternly. She was glad it was on the job.
“Penny is upstairs, if you want to question her. She is one of the extras. It's possible she may know the provisions of his will. Some of the property may have been in trust from her father and goes to the next of kin'
“I'll speak with her,' he said, then moved on to another subject. 'What do you make of the slide projec- tor? Was the guy some kind of photography buff? The slides are missing, by the way, so unless this Spaulding was demonstrating the art of hand shadows, we can assume the murderer took them.'
“I've never seen him with a camera or heard him talk about an interest in photography.”
Dunne wrote it down. 'Now, before I go, tell me quickly why you disliked him so much. Aside from your comment, it's written all over your face every time you say his name.'
“Well, to start, he was selfish, mean-spirited, and extremely aggravating.' All those endless calls to Tom complaining about picayune things—a sentence in the sermon, a wrinkled choir robe, a charity being supported by the Ladies Alliance. This last was actually not a small matter and had had the congregation in an uproar. He'd objected to their fund-raising for safe houses for battered women; said they should have the houses for men. He was really totally crazy. Here was a new thought.
“You know, he may possibly have been more than a little crazy. He used to have furious temper tantrums and was extremely paranoid.'
“All very helpful,' Dunne said, 'and I want to talk more, only I've got to get upstairs.' He got off the stool and walked toward the door. Just before opening it, he turned around and faced her with a look close to the old parental 'Can you look me straight in the eye and say that?' one.
“Faith, I like to think you would have told me right away, but I'll ask just to make sure. Do you have any idea who would have wanted to kill him?'
“No, not kill him in fact. Figuratively, more than half the town, especially during this election. His personalattacks on his sister's character were beginning to get to people. But bash his head in? No, I can't think of anyone.”
And it was true. Tempting as it was to think that someone had killed Spaulding to prevent his election, no one in either opposing camp filled the bill. Not Penny and not Millicent. Pistols at dawn on the green would be more Millicent's style. She'd never sneak up behind him. She'd want him to know what hit him. And the Heunemans— impossible. James looked to be one of those New Englanders whose reverence for life was such that he even eschewed ant traps. No doubt Audrey was the same, or was she? What about her remark—was it only a few hours ago?—that if Alden thought he was going to win, he was wrong? Dead wrong. And what about knocking over the coffee urn the day they were shooting on the green? What was it Freud said about there being no such thing as accidents? No, it was impossible. Besides, tonight the people around her would know right away she was missing from the scene. Still, when they looked at the film, they'd have to check every empty seat. Besides Alden's.
On the way upstairs, she mentioned this again to John. 'They've been shooting steadily since the break. It
