Sheski peered from the hallway into the viewing room to see Dr. Stone standing near the head of the casket, talking intimately with a middle-aged, heavy-set woman. Sheski deduced correctly that the grieving female, dressed in a dark polyester dress and black flats, was Rose's only cousin, Ruth Wagner from Toledo. She had not seen her only cousin in more than a year, not because of any conflict, but due to their individual heavy schedules. Ruth had a great deal in common with Rose and they supported each other in their endeavors.
The owner of her own construction business, Ruth was a real go-getter, used to pushing people around to get what she wanted. Back in Toledo, she had about as many friends as Rose could claim in Danville. Both women were bullies and got lip service of loyalty and friendship but, behind their backs, most people just wished they would go away. In a manner of speaking, Rose did.
From the hallway near the guest book where the detectives were standing, it appeared that Ruth and Lesley were having a disagreement. They were talking and gesturing, unaware of the lieutenants' presence. Lips firmly set in a grim expression, Ruth seemed to want something and, whatever it was, Lesley was not giving it up. Occasionally, the lieutenants could hear a word or two and, in the heat of the discussion, the voices became loud enough that they understood what Ruth was after. She was trying to coerce the doctor into giving her the famous Darling Diamond. Her not-sopersuasive argument was that Rose had promised it to her as her only other relative. After all, weren't they like sisters? Ruth argued.
Apparently Dr. Stone was having none of it. He set his own jaw firmly, telling Ruth to forget it, the dia mond was his and his alone. And when it was found, he concluded, she was not getting it. With that, he defiantly turned his back to her and stared down at the coffin.
Karen Stone, dressed in a black suit and low heels, was sitting on a chair in the front row of mourners. Sheski couldn't help but notice that she had nice legs. Not as nice as Lana's, he thought. Conspicuously absent was Jess Walter. Karen looked lost without him and had her head bowed as if in prayer. In her hands was a paper that appeared to be the funeral program.
While Mike stayed back near the registry, Sheski quietly approached Karen, and told her again how sorry he was about her mother. He then sat down in an adjoining chair to make conversation with her easier. Karen explained to him that Jess had wanted to escort her through the difficult day's events, to be supportive, but he still was not feeling well. And, in the interest of keeping what little peace there was in the family, he'd decided to stay home. She was sorry now to have given in to those pressures, because she really needed him.
Sheski spoke words of understanding and felt sorry for Karen's predicament. She had noticeable circles under her eyes and her pretty face was showing signs of strain. Karen thanked him for coming and then, once again, bowed her head. Sheski joined Mike at the back of the room.
Dr. Stone, still at the head of the coffin, got a glimpse of Sheski out of the corner of his eye and was not pleased to see that he was talking to his daughter. Stone was uncertain how much the lieutenant had seen the night before when he and Kylie were together in the library of his home. After Sheski had left, he worried that the policeman was too smart for his own good. It made him uncomfortable that the two staties were at the viewing.
Dr. Stone walked over to Karen, said something into her ear, and approached the lieutenants in the hallway. The two men saw him coming and held their ground. "Is this standard procedure, attending the funeral of someone whose murder you are investigating?" Stone asked.
Mike indicated that they frequently did so out of respect for the deceased.
The psychiatrist's eyes narrowed and he said stonily, "Like hell. You investigators are like vultures. Just hanging around trying to gather something that you can use against innocent people"
His harsh tone surprised the two men. They were used to the behaviors of myriad suspects, but most kept an air of civility between themselves and the police. He was no ordinary suspect. They knew it and so did he. Dr. Stone was cracking a little.
The staties moved to the side of the room, blending in with others who were waiting to talk to Rose's family.
Attending the service were about a hundred local friends and acquaintances. The place was full. Some came out of respect for the family. Others, not sorry to bid a troublemaker goodbye, came out of curiosity.
Rose had been on many community boards, including her favorite, the Restoration Committee, and many of those groups were represented today. When Sheski looked about the crowd for familiar faces, he noticed Richard and Kylie Burns entering through the front door just ahead of Sarah Grove and the two women with whom he had seen her at Stone Haven. He wondered who was minding the office.
The Burnses made their way to pay their respects to Lesley and Karen, who appeared to have called a truce for the occasion. Richard went first, shook Lesley's hand, and hugged Karen. Tears flowed down the grieving daughter's cheeks as she accepted his warm words.
Kylie held Karen's hand and drew her close in a half-hug, expressing her sorrow. Kylie then fully embraced Lesley, whispering in his ear.
A line of sympathizers was beginning to form and the investigators noticed more familiar faces. Gordon and Gladys Ashman warmly hugged and consoled the Stones before making their way to Rose's bier. They were sorrowful and held onto each other as they said their silent goodbyes. Attorney Smithson was talking shop with the folks in front and in back of him in the line of those waiting to pass by the casket. He distributed a few business cards to potential clients without shame, occasionally pumping hands. He also managed to keep one eye on Lesley and the other on the lieutenants.
Evan Haynes was in line, too, and Sheski saw Jerry pressuring him again about the divorce case they were working on. Evan peered back at Sheski with the look of a man who had had enough. Sheski smiled and shook his head in sympathy.
The line of mourners was peppered with local people the policemen recognized from downtown businesses. Sheski was busy scanning the crowd when Mike tugged lightly at his right sleeve.
Turning his head in the direction of Mike's gaze, he saw the object of his attention. Entering the room was John Deadly. He was dressed in a dark pin-striped suit with a blue shirt and dark tie, and the tam was back on his head. Too late, thought Sheski, I already saw what you're trying to hide.
Deadly stopped directly in front of the door and was greeted by the kindly funeral director. They shook hands and he moved toward the guest book. He cast a critical glance at the floral tributes nearby and then noticed a young woman who was holding an infant over her shoulder. Deadly smiled as he gazed upon the newborn's angelic face. Entranced, he stepped closer and gently placed his large hand on the baby's soft head as he passed by, causing the child to whimper. The mother, unaware of the security man's touch, lovingly brought the child to her breast, comforting her.
When Deadly reached Dr. Stone, he leaned close to whisper, causing his suit coat to open. His clump of keys dangled freely from the front of his suitpants.
Sheski thought, He must wear that thing everywhere.
At precisely 11 A.M., the funeral service began, led by Reverend Marcus Conley, a local minister. He opened the service by stating that, at the request of the Stones, only immediate family members were invited to the gravesite following the service.
Sheski caught sight of Rose's daughter fingering the miniature Darling Diamond and crying mutely. Dr. Stone was expressionless.
Reverend Conley finished by reciting "Crossing the Bar" from a worn copy tucked inside his black King James bible. When the final Tennysonian lines were spoken, Sheski looked back to see Deadly making his way out of the door. The lieutenant guessed who Deadly's "pilot" was.
Following the short service, those in attendance left the funeral home for their cars. The remaining small procession entered waiting vehicles and the cortege crossed the river bridge. They went slowly up the hill to the Kase Cemetery where several generations of Stones were resting in graves marked wi
th slate and marble. The black Cadillac hearse carried the coffin. Dr. Stone, Karen, and Ruth followed in an identical funeral home vehicle. Behind them in a dark blue Cadillac was Deadly, followed by Reverend Conley in his Honda Accord. Sheski and Mike were in a state car a discreet distance behind the pastor.
Getting in and out of the old cemetery would prove to be difficult because of the narrow dirt road leading through an even narrower entrance. Mike knew this, so he parked a half-mile down the road in a vacant lot and the two men walked quickly to the burial spot.
Kase was an old cemetery dating back to the nineteenth century and was not constructed with modern transport in mind. Most hearses had difficulty getting through the iron gates, and funeral directors complained endlessly to the cemetery council. The council stood firm. The old gates had been in place for more than a hundred years, and they were not about to change them now. No matter, because most people believed that with the condition the iron gates were in now, they would soon fall down on their own.
When the policemen arrived on foot, vehicles were already attempting to negotiate the tight entrance. They made it through after careful maneuvering. Reverend Conley parked next to Deadly's car, just inside the graveyard oh the side of the dirt road. The hearse pulled up further, next to the gravesite. Family members got out of the next car and walked through newly-raked grass to a small vinyl shade covering the open plot. Kase gravediggers unloaded the casket and placed it on a frame over the freshly dug hole. They then positioned themselves discreetly in a fencerow of maples and oaks just south of the cemetery.
There were three chairs, soon occupied by Ruth, Lesley, and Karen, placed in front of the walnut box. The stainless steel vault was in the ground. Its cover was resting out of sight near the back of the cemetery, awaiting placement when the last mourner paid their final farewell and departed.
The minister stood next to Karen, holding her shaking hand solemnly in his. His left arm was around her small shoulders. John Deadly remained standing behind the chairs, quietly observing the small gathering.
Sheski and Mike chose to stay out from under the tented area, leaning on large oak trees near the gravediggers. Not wanting to intrude, they remained silent and observed the final step of the interment.
Reverend Conley proceeded to the front of the casket and said a few kindly words. He shuffled off to the side, nodding for the family to come forward. Sheski's mind started to wander and he thought of Robert Southey's description of the grave as "the threshold of eternity." How appropriate, he thought. Rose, who loved restoring old buildings, has stepped upon her threshold.
Ruth stood shaking her head back and forth solemnly as she gazed upon what was in front of her. Without so much as a word or a backward glance, she moved out from the tent toward her car, choosing her steps carefully in the soft grass so as not to twist an ankle. Her thoughts were on the diamond. Lesley and Karen were now the only ones seated in front of the grave. Deadly had not moved from directly behind them.
Suddenly Sheski became aware that something significant was about to take place. The hair stood up at the nape of his neck and he began nervously to look about. He nudged Mike, who also discerned a change in the air. The lieutenants' senses sharpened as they observed Lesley stand and place a single white rose on the hand-carved box containing his dead wife. The doctor paused a moment and took a step to the left, and waited for his daughter to come forth. Slowly Karen stood, nervously manipulating the mini Darling Diamond on her right pinky finger.
What occurred next happened so quickly that the detectives almost missed it. Karen smoothly took the ring off her hand, murmured something about being free, words that were meant to be between a daughter and her mother, and flung the diamond ring into the open grave.
Dr. Stone's face became crimson with rage as he caught sight of the valuable piece of jewelry tumbling over and over, ricocheting off the brass casket trim until it was no longer visible in the soft dirt below. He futilely lunged forward as if to stop its descent, screaming, "My God, Karen, are you out of your mind? That ring was worth a bundle" Stone then grabbed his daughter's shoulders in his hands and pulled her frightened face close to his. She began to cry. Her father continued shaking her savagely before remembering there were witnesses to his violent outburst. He loosened his grip. During this explosion, Deadly had moved threateningly closer behind Karen. He pushed himself against her back, his hot breath upon her right ear, and breathed words that only Karen could hear. The young woman was pinned helplessly against her mother's coffin.
"Let me alone. I'm free from all of you, finally, free," Karen screamed while attempting to wrest herself loose. Reverend Conley's eyes widened and before he could move, Mike was in the fray, liberating her from the attackers. His rapid intervention surprised everyone except his partner. Karen, who was now safely behind him, began sobbing openly. Sheski stood firmly by Mike's side, both policemen poised with their hands in front of them, ready should the other men try anything further.
Dr. Stone tried to apologize to the stunned observers, claiming, "I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry, I'm just not myself these days."
He then turned on his heels and practically ran toward the Cadillac. Orders were flung at the driver and the car backed quickly out of the cemetery. Before those remaining could speak, Deadly, too, was in his car and gone.
"Are you okay?" the Reverend asked of Karen worriedly.
"I'm fine." She rubbed her right kidney area lightly. "I'll be all right." Her eye make-up was smudged on her face and tears coursed down both cheeks. "I'm glad I did it. That ring was a symbol of something that never really existed. They never loved me. Never," she said sadly. "My mother only loved her possessions and her committees. And Father, well, Father only loves money." Karen realized that she had never admitted that to herself until this moment. She started to feel a little dizzy. "I need to sit down," she said. Reverend Conley assisted her to a chair.
"Are you sure that you want that ring to be buried with your mother?" Sheski asked.
"Yes, I'm sure," she said determinedly. "And I'm staying right here until the last shovelful is on to make sure it's not removed." And when the sun rises tomorrow, Karen thought, Jess and I will begin making wedding plans. It's time I took control of my own life.
"I'll stay with you," Reverend Conley said comfortingly. "When you're ready to leave, I can take you home"
Sheski and Mike started walking away from the cemetery toward their car. Neither thought that Karen's attackers would return. The men looked back in time to see that the gravediggers had lowered the coffin into the dark earth. Soon, clumps of earth were deposited over the casket and ring. Karen and the Reverend stayed, as she had vowed, until the last of the dark, moist dirt was in place.
NoVEMBER, 1937
Lying on his side in the grass near a back entrance, Oliver Pratt hoisted himself onto one elbow. Lunch was finished and there was some time to write and paint before evening chores. He was glad that it was an unusually warm November. His child was due to be born soon and he was hoping the infant's mother would not have to be cold during the delivery.
Carefully, while looking around to make sure no one could see him, he pulled his journal out from under a white long-sleeved shirt, opened the pages, and began to write.
"November fourth, 1937. All of the cattle were fed by five A.M. today. Fortunately, it was a good harvest this year and we will have enough grain and hay to take us into next summer. I don't mind my barn chores. We all must do our part to contribute to the hospital community. The care of the cows is easy and the milking keeps these sore hands supple. For an old painter like myself, that is a blessing. I am old but will not get much older. I do not think that I will see another spring. I feel myself slowing down. What a pity. What a waste. Most of my life spent in the confines of this pathetic excuse for a mental ward. Thankfully, my father's money buys me plenty of canvasses, paints, and freedom. But I could have done so much more. And the paintings that I could have completed . . "
He put his pencil down.
Oliver pulled back the pages from earlier months' writings and read the scrawling words that outlined his days. He enjoyed reading about the times that provided him with pleasure and joy. His particular favorites were the early years in Philadelphia and the more recent times he spent here with his Becky. He read a particular favorite:
We have been able to secure some time together almost daily in my room for a few well placed dollars. Becky is frequently melancholy but is always willing to do what I ask. She is a skillful seamstress and makes herself garments designed to make her look like a young child. It is a poor substitute, but is the best I can do in here. She doesn't seem to completely grasp the encounters that we reenact together. No matter. I love her for giving this old man a chance to relive some glorious moments.
The ever-present grin reappeared as he read each delicious line. He pictured the depressed Becky in little-girl dresses, talking as a six-year-old would, playing with her dolly. He could make her do anything he wanted, just as he did with the others. And he didn't have to hurt her afterward to protect himself from being discovered. She had a flair for the arts and understood his instruction about light and perspectives much more than the little ones. And she didn't cry when they had sex in return for his lessons.
Feeling invigorated, he closed the calfskin cover over the pages, got up, and slowly walked the pathway back to his room to paint.
MONDAY AFTERNOON
Rose's funeral filled their morning and part of the afternoon. It was now later in the day, and the lieutenants had an appointment with Richard and Kylie Burns at their home on Mill Street. This would make for a long day, but they did not want to miss the opportunity to interview Dr. and Mrs. Richard Burns. Since they were already so close to their home, the only Victorian house on Danville's main street, they chose to speak to the Burnses there. Nestled among glass storefronts and businesses, this would be the lieutenants' last stop on the list of Barry Brown's customers.
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