The Body In The Bog Part 25

knife. The library had a wonderful medical text I was able to study at length. I had never realized that you could employ a knife with such a relatively short blade-one a little over four inches, and we happened to have exactly the right size at home."

It was as Faith had imagined, even down to Joey's greeting. She didn't think she could stand to hear Nelson say any more, but the hands on the clock had barely moved. Unless Charley and John decided to come early, too, she had to keep the conversation flowing.

She asked her question again. ' 'What ring, Nelson? You mentioned a ring."

"The engagement ring for Lora. Didn't I tell you? We're getting married."

Faith sat down on the stool. It was that or fall down. Her knees had buckled beneath her.

Nelson spoke dreamily. "I think I must have always loved her. You know how she is with the children. We plan to have a large family. She comes from a large family, but I've never known the pleasure of siblings."

Some siblings might dispute that characterization, but Faith wasn't about to interrupt.

"Of course, I'd seen her in town. Watched her grow into full womanhood, but it wasn't until last fall that I knew my destiny had arrived. I had a kind of epiphany the day the Story Lady came. It might be interesting to talk to your husband about this sometime. It was a religious experience."

Faith thought now would be as good a time as any, but was sure that Nelson would not.

"The Story Lady?" Her questions had been brief ones throughout Nelson's monologue. It was so unbelievable, more complex inquiries eluded her.

"Lora has a friend who is a professional storyteller and actress. She came to entertain the children one day. I'm surprised Ben didn't mention it," he said accusingly.

In her son's defense, Faith spoke at greater length. "I do remember now. Ben was very upset at missing the visit 229.

from the Story Lady. The children talked about it for weeks afterward. But he was home with chicken pox. Amy had it, too." Faith had soaked them in so many Aveeno baths that the skin on her own arms had never been softer.

Nelson was mollified. "I'm sure she'll come back. A wonderful performer. She brought a suitcase filled with costumes and had the children act out the various stories with her. At the end, she spun a tale about a beautiful enchanted princess whose heart had been turned to stone because no one loved her. The Story Lady loosed Lora's lovely hair. '**' It fell to her shoulders in a gleaming cloud." Nelson was quite the weaver of tales himself.

"She put a gold crown on Lora's head and draped her in a purple velvet cloak. Lora took her gla.s.ses off and sat in the story chair." At least Faith knew what this was-an oversized rocker where the children gathered to hear Lora read.

"The princess could only be rescued by true love. The Story Lady had the children think of all their favorite people and things. One by one, they expressed their thoughts to their teacher. It was a very moving experience. As they went around the circle, Lora began to glow, lifting one arm, then the other. Her eyes opened wider. She smiled. Their love was working. I directed all my thoughts toward her from the corner where I had been working. I'd stopped when the program began. At the end, Lora kissed each child. I thought for an instant she might kiss me, too, but that would have given us away."

Lora with her hair down, Lora without her gla.s.ses, Lora with a crown-Faith knew what all that would have looked like. The Story Lady had unwittingly signed Margaret's death warrant.

But Lora and Nelson? What would Lora get out of the relationship, although it was clear that the Batcheldors had more money than Faith thought. You could get quite a decent diamond for seven thousand dollars, especially at the Jeweler's Building in town, but Nelson would have gone to Shreve's. He was a man who stuck to tradition.

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He looked at his watch and unc.o.c.ked the gun. Quickly, she tried to stall with another question.

"Have you set a date for the wedding? We're pretty booked, but it's possible we could fit it in. Niki does a beautiful cake-and it tastes good, too. Lots of b.u.t.ter-cream frosting with a hint of orange and-"

"You've finished your coffee."

The innocuous phrase had never sounded so chilling.

Nelson stood up and moved toward the end of the counter. She couldn't act too quickly-or too late. He wasn't saying a word now and was holding the gun by the barrel, ready to strike. He seemed much taller. She watched him intently. He was coming around the edge. Dozens of eggs were lined up in their cartons. He knocked into one with his elbow but didn't look away from his prey.

When he was almost next to her, she jumped off the stool and pushed it straight in his path. At the same time, she kicked some of the large pots stored under the counter out onto the floor. They made a loud clattering sound. He stumbled, as she hoped he would, and the pots added to his confusion. He leaned down slightly to push everything out of the way, shoving the stool aside with his foot.

Using her ap.r.o.n as a pot holder, Faith immediately grabbed the heavy copper skillet she'd planned to saute the beef in from the burner she'd turned on. The pan was red-hot. She brought it down on Nelson's head as hard as she could, letting it rest a moment. Her fingers were burning. He screamed in agony. The smell of his singed hair was nauseating. She hit him again full force and he fell to the floor.

"I thought you might need help," a voice at the door called out.

It was Fix.

Chief Maclsaac and Detective Lieutenant Dunne were punctual men. Faith had said 6:30, so 6:30 it would be. They were sharing some supper at the Minuteman Cafe- meat loaf-when their beepers went off. They jumped in 231.

John's car and arrived at the kitchen with several other officers of the law, sirens blaring-and Tom.

The first thing Fix and Faith had done was to make sure Nelson would not be mobile should his unconscious state prove brief. They did a thorough job of trussing him with twine Faith kept for the purpose, although in the past it had bound poultry and beef. Fix was good with knots. Then they called the police, Sam, and Tom, in that order. Sam walked into the parsonage to watch the kids just as Tom was hanging up, frantically wondering what to do about them.

"I'm not sure I'm made of the same stuff as Charlotte- you know, the one who continued to cut bread and b.u.t.ter as her lover was carried past the kitchen window stiff and cold on a shutter. Nelson wasn't my lover-far from it- but I still don't feel much like cooking tonight. It's going to be a while until I forget the sight of his body on the floor, and I may have to get rid of this perfectly good skillet."

"Early days yet," Fix advised. "We can wash the skillet and Twinkle its bottom." It was at this point that the police arrived.

"Copper cleaner," Fix explained. Then Faith explained a whole lot more.

Nelson wasn't dead, for which Faith was profoundly grateful. They took him out on a stretcher and he was already stirring.

Tom took Faith over to the end of the room. They sat in Ben's beanbag chair, with Faith on her husband's lap. The picture they presented would have been laughable if the situation had been comical.

"Faith, Faith, Faith...! almost lost you!" He held tightly to his wife, as he had since his arrival, rushing wide-eyed through the door.

The terror was over and Faith was beginning to breathe normally again. She was aware that her heartbeat had slowed. Nonetheless, she didn't mind the position she was in and was happy to cling in return.

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Pix vas starting to clean up, but John Dunne stopped her.

"I know you're trying to help, but this is all evidence and we have to do some work here. I want to make sure this guy goes away for a long, long time."

"I don't think there is much doubt of that," Pix replied somewhat acidly. She didn't want Faith to have to deal with the eggs and dirty dishes in the morning-and she doubted the police would tidy it all away. "He's killed two people and tried to make it three."

"Why don't I call you when we're finished?" He smiled at her. She wasn't as used to his appearance as the Fair-childs and found herself instantly obedient.

"We should get Faith home now, anyway."

"Good idea. Charley and I will drop by in a while."

"Maybe we'll take her to our house. My husband is watching the children at the parsonage and my daughter is coming to take over. She can feed them and put them to bed. No need for them to see their mother upset." They both turned toward the end of the room, where Faith and Tom were still ensconced in the beanbag chair. They looked comfortable, but Charley and Pix couldn't see Faith's face. Pix put herself in her friend's shoes for a moment and knew she would need a drink and a whole lot of people to talk to right away.

It turned out to be what Faith wanted, too, and they went straight to the Millers'. She was happy to let them take charge of her life for the moment, only specifying pot stickers instead of the pu pu platter they were ordering as an appetizer from the local Chinese restaurant.

While they waited for the food, the seats at the Millers' long harvest table gradually became filled with people. Pix had been busy making calls. Millicent arrived with Brad, followed immediately by Gus, his wife, Lillian, and Lora. Sam phoned for more food and told his wife to stop alerting the populace. "We've got a quorum or whatever, and with Charley and John, there won't be any more room."

Faith was sitting at the head of the table. She was feeling 233.

slightly dissociated. All around her, people were chattering away, expressing shock and relief. An hour ago, she had been on her way into her own oven.

"You okay, honey? Want to go home?" Tom asked anx-iously.

"Not yet. I have too many questions. And I'm hungry."

By tacit consent, everyone was waiting for the food and the police. Fix had given them a rough idea of what had happened at Have Faith when she'd contacted them, but no one was approaching the subject directly now.

Lora Deane got up from the table. She had followed her grandparents in, subdued, and been sitting quietly ever since. Looking at the young woman, Faith realized most of the questions that remained unanswered had to do with Miss Lora-both Miss Loras.

Lora bent over Faith's chair as she pa.s.sed by. "I'm so glad you're all right! And I think you're incredible. I would have died with fear on the spot or fainted or something." She leaned close to Faith's ear and added in an urgent whisper, "Please don't say anything about the apartment." Faith looked at her in surprise. Lora explained, "Bridey told me about the 'student' who'd been by and described her so well, I knew it was you. I'll meet you wherever you say tomorrow and tell you everything." Lora straightened up and went on her way, presumably in search of a bathroom.

Faith was happy to comply with her request since it meant Lora Deane would tell all. Opportunities such as this didn't come along every day, and Faith could wait. She had a pretty good idea what the apartment was for, anyway.

The doorbell rang. It was the food. Opening the containers and serving the food caused some good-natured commotion. It wasn't exactly Eat Drink Man Woman, but the dishes smelled inviting. Gus and Lillian wanted fried rice. Millicent was reaching for the family-style spicy tofu. "Cleanses the blood," she informed the table. Sam wanted some of everything and Danny wandered in, complaining they hadn't ordered any spareribs. Sam heaped a plate with 234.

food and sent him back to the computer and MYST.

"Is this the no-MSG place? Changhai?" Brad asked.

"Of course." Fix was indignant. The young man was lucky he had even been asked to dinner. There was no need to cast aspersions on her culinary judgment. She had picked up a thing or two from her employer. They had stopped using the place that drenched everything in red dye number two sweet sauce months ago.

Charley and John arrived, creating another round of confusion. Contrary to usual practice, Detective Dunne was ready for food. He and Charley had had to leave a perfectly good meat-loaf dinner, barely touched, on the table at the Cafe. He grabbed a container of rice, one of pork with black-bean sauce, and dug in, first carefully removing his Sulka tie.

"What have we missed?" Charley asked.

"Nothing," Faith answered. "We've been waiting for you. Is Nelson conscious?"

"Yes, but he's not making much sense. You hit him good and hard. He seems to think he's getting married on Sat.u.r.day-to you, Lora." Charley was sitting across from the Deanes. He added, somberly, "Seems to believe it absolutely. Says he gave you a ring."

All three Deanes dropped their forks.

"You were getting married and you didn't tell us!" Lillian wailed.

"He's old enough to be your father!" Gus thundered.

"Stop shouting at me! I don't even really know the man!" Lora protested. "Somebody tell me what's going on?"

John had wedged a chair next to Faith's. He was annoyed with her for setting the trap. They'd suspected Nelson Batcheldor for some time and were trying to collect evidence. It was true they hadn't come up with much, but Dunne did not approve of ordinary citizens taking police matters into their own hands, especially at considerable risk. But then, Faith wasn't an ordinary citizen. He reached for another container. He wasn't picky when it came to 235.

Chinese food. This one had some kind of chicken with fruit. It tasted like oranges or tangerines.

He and Charley had agreed not to tell the Fairchilds Nelson's other babblings, most of which concerned all the things he planned to do to Faith to get even. John hitched his chair closer to Faith's. With Dunne on one side and Tom just as close on the other, she was beginning to feel as if she'd acquired an extremely mismatched set of book-ends.

"Between the two of us, we ought to be able to answer Lora's question, don't you think?" he said to Faith. She'd had a few pot stickers and that was all she felt like eating for now. Her appet.i.te had deserted her when the police arrived and she'd realized they'd be going over the events of the evening.

"Shall I start?" she asked. He nodded. His mouth was full.

' 'Nelson Batcheldor was deeply unhappy in his marriage to Margaret. He was also an extremely disturbed person with a distorted view of reality. That meant he didn't do any of the things another man in his position might have- seek counseling, get a divorce. Instead, he developed a rich fantasy life revolving around getting rid of Margaret and replacing her with his ideal mate. I'm afraid that turned out to be you, Lora," Faith explained.

"Me! Why did he pick me! And how could he possibly have thought I'd be interested in him? He was old and not exactly what I'd call attractive."

Faith knew what Lora called attractive and she agreed silently. Nelson Batcheldor was not it. Now the old part, that was debatable, especially as the years were pa.s.sing. The young woman's reaction had chased away any lingering suspicions Faith had had about her involvement in Nelson's schemes. He had sounded so definite about their plans, as if they had been spending every spare moment planning their future together.

"He wanted children," Lillian Deane informed them. "And wasn't he doing all that carpentry work at the school?

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He must have seen how gifted you are with them," Lora's grandmother said with pride. ' 'The only reason I know how much he wanted to be a father was a remark he made many years ago. I was pushing you in your stroller, Lora." She paused as the irony of the situation was duly registered by everyone present. "He stopped me and told me what a beautiful baby you were, which was true. Such lovely soft curls and big blue eyes. 'You're a very lucky woman, Lillian,' he said. Til never be a father-or a grandfather. It's the tragedy of my life.' I tried to rea.s.sure him. Of course, he and Margaret were quite young then. He cut me right off, 'It's out of my hands.' Those were his very words. He smoothed your hair and tucked the blanket around you and left. I remember thinking what a good father he would have made. It's a shame. I always thought he meant they couldn't have children."

No one had interrupted Mrs. Deane's lengthy reminiscence. They weren't used to hearing so much from her, especially when Gus was around. Faith resolved to get to know the woman better.

"Always thought it was some sort of plumbing problem," Gus commented. "Didn't like to pry."

"Margaret didn't want children. That was one of the things he held against her," Faith explained. "But that wasn't the only thing wrong-the only thing he held against her."

Nevertheless, Fix, Lillian, and Lora exchanged meaningful glances. Not want children! Faith felt compelled to come to the defense of friends, relatives, strangers who'd decided otherwise.

"Children are not for everyone."

"Amen," said Charley. "Now let me get this straight, Lora. He didn't give you a ring. Didn't approach you in any way?"

"No, he was rather shy. I don't think we ever had a conversation about anything except the size of the bookshelves and the weather. No, wait, he was there when my friend came and acted out some stories with the children.

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He was very impressed by her and came over to talk afterward."

Faith told them about the Story Lady and her transformation of Lora into Lorelei.

"I can never let her know." Lora was aghast.

"If it hadn't been then, it would have been another time. When you were singing 'Wheels on the Bus' or reading Love You Forever-that's a real tearjerker. Nelson saw his devotion to you as a pure and holy thing. It justified everything else."

"We had our suspicions that he may have staged his own poisoning, but we weren't sure how," John said. "We'd found some vodka nips with his fingerprints on them in the men's room trash at St. Theresa's. Alcohol intensifies the effects of chloral hydrate. But we couldn't figure out how and when he'd taken the drug itself. He was lucky he didn't kill himself."

"It would have been lucky for Joey," Gus said sternly.

Faith realized she'd have to reveal Joey's blackmail activities to his in-laws. She wasn't sure this was the time or place.

"He'd practiced on himself," she told them, then described the way he'd brought the chloral into the hall.

"A Minuteman for twenty years. It's hard to fathom," Gus remarked. Like Millicent, uncharacteristically remaining in the background, Gus believed certain avocations produced una.s.sailable moral fiber.

Before the talk ventured into Joey Madsen's activities, Faith brought up her question.

"Nelson confessed to sending the letters and cutting the hydraulic hoses on the excavator-and the murders-but he didn't say anything about the calls. Did you ask him about them-and the brick through Lora's window?"

Lora flushed and looked at Brad. He sat up and swallowed hastily. Somehow most of the smoky chow foon rice noodles with beef and peppers were finding their way to his end of the table.

"Hey, I didn't call you! You made it perfectly clear that 238.