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CHAPTER ONE

Meredith Menorah stood over the body of the man she hated, the man she had loved. Her husband, Preacher Bertram, was dead. She discovered his naked, lifeless body in a pool of blood: a bullet was pierced between his stone cold blue eyes; blood was dripping from the artery in his neck, severed by a second shot.

Angry, crying, Meredith Menorah looked upon her husband's nakedness. It wasn't singing her husband had been doing in the choir loft this night. Trembling, Meredith Menorah knelt for a moment and partially covered his nude body with a blue, blood soaked jacket she saw laying next to him. It was a woman's jacket. Then in disbelief Meredith Menorah stared at a second pool of blood in the choir loft.

She cried, "All this blood! Is that also his?" Dizzy, swooning, Meredith Menorah stood and wiped the tears from her face. She took a step backwards, stumbled, and braced herself against the backside of a chair to stop from falling. "Don't pass out," she told herself. "Get yourself together. Stop crying."

Still, Meredith Menorah was terrified. She was certain everyone in Portabay, upon discovery of her husband's body, would think she was the one who shot him. God knows she had reason enough to want her husband dead. But not even to avenge what he did to her true love, Silencer Raveen, could she have done it. Not even to set herself free from Preacher Bertram, the vile beast that he was, could she have killed him. The truth was she felt sad that he was dead. She hated to witness the mortality of anyone; even Preacher Bertram.

Then for a few, fleeting moments she considered that maybe now she was free. She smiled. She wondered what if no one blamed her for Preacher Bertram's death. She was innocent after all. And she thought about her true love Silencer. She wishfully imagined living with Silencer as a man and woman who love one another should live; as husband and wife. She hoped, she dreamed, but for a brief moment that her and Silencer's lives could be salvaged. She imagined she could again hold Silencer in her arms. But then she thought that is a dream which will never happen.

She felt it was wrong that she and Silencer had fallen in love. It was wrong, she thought, but it was just as wrong what Preacher Bertram did. She knew Silencer would never be the same. She thought if only she had not fallen out of love with Preacher Bertram; if only.

If only she had not been so young, just barely sixteen when she married Preacher Bertram. If only she had realized she didn't have enough in common with a forty year old man to make a marriage work. If only she had not discovered how much she had in common with Silencer.

Meredith Menorah remembered the day she and Silencer happened to go swimming at the same swimming hole. It was no big deal when they found themselves there together, alone. Or at least it should have been no big deal. They were talking and swimming and having a good time with no thought of any hanky-panky. Silencer had just turned sixteen and Meredith Menorah was teasing him, telling him how her life had changed when she turned sixteen, just two years ago. Silencer laughed at her teasing, telling her that there was no danger of him getting hitched.

Meredith Menorah wasn't sure when Preacher Bertram walked upon them and found them at the pond together. She wasn't sure how long he had been standing there or what they had said or done which had given him the wrong idea. But when they saw him standing at the edge of the pond, he was furious. She remembered they had been splashing around in the water and at one point Silencer had pulled her under for a moment. She supposed their horseplay may have looked like something other than what it was. But she doubted it. She figured he was mainly outraged because he thought it was unthinkable she should be having fun with someone closer to her own age.

Regardless, his threat was ridiculous. He threatened to have both of them charged with statutory fornication. In Portabay at this time, adultery was a serious crime punishable by up to twenty years in jail for both of the accused. And if the wronged spouse decided to take the law into their own hands, and kill either the spouse or their lover, it was considered justified.

Although Preacher Bertram's accusation was ludicrous, both Silencer and Meredith Menorah should have taken Preacher Bertram's threat seriously. But Silencer only made matters worse by calling Preacher Bertram a silly old goat.

Meredith Menorah remembered how Preacher Bertram dragged her from the swimming pond by the hair of her head. Then he stared back at Silencer. He scolded, "Don't speak to me as though you were my superior. I'm not silly, I'm not old, and I sure as hell am not a goat. I intend to take my wife home and prove to her that she does not need a young stud like you to make her happy. I've satisfied more women in my time than you will ever know."

Meredith Menorah could still see the scared, disbelieving look in Silencer's brown eyes as he watched Preacher Bertram drag her off into the woods. They could not believe what Preacher Bertram had said to them. While the preacher had accused both of them of fornication, he had confessed himself to be a fornicator.

Meredith Menorah thought, "My husband was sick."

Meredith Menorah remembered the days which followed. Living with Preacher Bertram became a living hell. With what Preacher Bertram was putting her through, she began to think more and more about Silencer. When she would see Silencer at church and other places, she knew he was thinking about her. Preacher Bertram had planted an idea in their minds and it made them look at one another differently.

In the following weeks, Meredith Menorah and Silencer began to sneak visits with one another. At first the visits were innocent enough. But then Silencer discovered Preacher Bertram had beaten Meredith Menorah during an argument. Silencer wanted to comfort her and they kissed. Much more kissing followed.

It was there at the pond where Preacher Bertram first planted the idea of loving Meredith Menorah into Silencer's mind, that Preacher Bertram caught them consummating that love. When Preacher Bertram caught them there, there was no look of anger on his face; just a strange smile. Then quickly, before Silencer knew what was happening, Preacher Bertram hit him over the head with a rock. Still smiling, he took hold of Silencer's arm, pulled, and rolled Silencer off of Meredith Menorah. Looking at Silencer's manhood, his strange smile vanished. Staring coldly at his wife, he pulled out a knife.

Preacher Bertram said, "You know, it is within my right to kill him. Shall I cut the 'serpent' from his body and allow him to bleed to death? I think it would be the proper punishment for his fornication."

Meredith Menorah remembered how she stared at her husband. She knew how his mind worked. She thought she knew best how to protect Silencer. She agreed, "Yes. Do it. Then when you defend your actions, everyone will know that your wife took herself a lover. They will know that you were not man enough for me."

Meredith Menorah could not forget her husband's screams of laughter. "So my little slut, I'm not man enough for you. We'll see about that."

Preacher Bertram savagely raped his own wife. He beat her severely, and made it clear that if she didn't substantiate the charges he planned to make against Silencer, he would murder the both of them. He said it would still be within his right. He claimed he could easily defend his murdering the both of them for he had a witness of their fornication, and the witness would be more than willing to come to his defense.

Preacher Bertram had Silencer arrested and locked away at Portabay Prison Island. Now Preacher Bertram was dead, murdered. Meredith Menorah stared down at his nude, bloody body.

She wondered, "If I could prove he was cheating on me, even if people do think I murdered him, wouldn't they consider it justified under Portabay law?" She shook her head. "No way. The crazy people in this town will just think I set the whole thing up. They will think I plotted to make it look like I caught him cheating. If only I knew who was with him. Hell, if only I knew who killed him."

Meredith Menorah thought she had never heard the church, especially the choir loft, so quiet. She felt the silence was strange, eerie. Then suddenly, out of the haunting silence, Meredith Menorah heard an angry voice.

"Beware the adversary!" the voice bellowed.

Meredith Menorah could have sworn the bellowing voice was her husband, Preacher Bertram. But his lips didn't move. Meredith Menorah felt certain he was dead. Looking at his body, she thought not even the devil himself could have survived those wounds.

Meredith Menorah listened closely as she tried to determine who was attempting to make her think she was hearing the voice of her deceased husband. The voice calmed into a solemn, whispering tone, "The adversary spread out his hands upon her pleasant things for the heathen entered into her sanctuary. She weepeth sore in the night, and her tears are upon her cheeks. Among all her lovers she has none to comfort her and all her friends have dealt treacherously with her, they have become as her enemy." Then the voice faded, "Please forgive my treachery."

A cold chill fell over Meredith Menorah and a strangeness gripped her soul. Sadly, she opened the white marble door from the choir loft and slowly descended the long column of steps to the bottom. Shaking, she stared out over the pews and with her heart pounding each step, she walked toward the anterior of the church. Then feeling as though she had walked a hundred miles, she reached the large, colossal doors at the egress arch. Just as she grasped for one of the doors and was about to open it, a cold hand touched her shoulder.

"Molly."

Meredith Menorah turned to meet a wet kiss upon her mouth. She yanked herself away, and not knowing what to think, she stared at young Frenchy Dean.

Frenchy said, "I'm sorry. I was supposed to meet Molly here and. . . ."

Meredith Menorah looked at Frenchy and shook her head. "Silencer's sister? Why on earth would she meet you here of all places?"

Frenchy glanced down. "She said there was something she wanted to show me here at the church." Then Frenchy looked into Meredith Menorah's eyes.

Meredith Menorah puzzled, "I wonder."

Suddenly, a voice bellowed from the choir loft. "Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: For love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: The coals thereof are coals of fire which hath a most vehement flame."

Frenchy asked, "Does he always get this loud when he is rehearsing a sermon?"

Meredith Menorah looked away from Frenchy Dean. She hesitated. Then she whispered, "He's dead."

Frenchy laughed, "What?"

Meredith Menorah took Frenchy by the hand and looked into his eyes. "I'm not kidding. Someone has murdered him. And now they, or somebody, is doing a damned good impression of his ghost. I don't know why they are doing it. I don't know why he was murdered. But Frenchy, everyone is going to think I murdered my husband."

Frenchy Dean slowly walked toward the stairs. He thought he should go up to the choir loft and investigate. But then suddenly he heard the front doors of the church swing open. He turned to see Sheriff Benton standing beneath the egress arch.

"Meredith Menorah, hello," Sheriff Benton said in his usual gruff voice. "Is Preacher Bertram around? I've come here to tell him that I've decided to take my son out of the choir, and to tell him that even if he manages to get the church out of its present financial difficulty, my family will no longer attend this church. What the two of you have done to young Silencer Raveen is inexcusable. I'm glad Baldwin Raveen is in the process of foreclosing on the church."

Frenchy Dean walked to where Meredith Menorah and Sheriff Benton were standing. "Hey, don't hassle the lady. She's not the one who arrested Silencer. You are."

Sheriff Benton said, "But if she had disputed Preacher Bertram's charges, I would not have had to arrest him. If you could see him, it is enough to break your heart."

Frenchy Dean looked at the sheriff in disbelief. "If we could see him. That is a laugh. You won't let anyone see him. You will not even allow his own family to see him. Molly cries herself to sleep every night because you will not let her visit her brother. She feels certain that he is being mistreated--mistreated by you."

Sheriff Benton said, "After Silencer tried to escape, you know the magistrate ordered under no circumstance shall I allow him to have visitors. We can't risk someone else slipping Silencer a weapon."

Because Meredith Menorah had sneaked out to Portabay Prison Island to visit with Silencer after the magistrate ordered he be allowed no visitors, she knew first hand the abominable conditions at the prison and the way in which Sheriff Benton was mistreating Silencer. Meredith Menorah looked at Sheriff Benton in total disgust. "Did the magistrate also order you to chain him up in that dank, rat infested dungeon? Did the magistrate order you to abuse him? You do your pretending for Silencer's father, Baldwin Raveen, if you think he'll believe a man who will not allow him to see his own son. You do it if you think it will protect you from his wrath. But don't try to pretend with me. I know what you are."

Sheriff Benton smiled. "Where's Preacher Bertram? I need to speak to him."

Meredith Menorah felt as though she were about to lose control. She didn't know what to say. She just wanted to start running and never stop.

Frenchy Dean spoke up, "He said he was going for a walk in the woods; that he had a lot of thinking to do."

Sheriff Benton said, "Well Meredith Menorah, when he gets back from his walk, tell him what I said."

Meredith Menorah shook her head as if to say she would. She felt a great sense of relief as she watched Sheriff Benton leave the church. "I thought he'd never leave."

Frenchy Dean said, "I think Baldwin Raveen is causing Sheriff Benton to start feeling the heat. I hope Baldwin makes that man fry."

Then Frenchy looked at the stairs up to the choir loft. "I dread going up there."

Meredith Menorah said, "There's a trap door to the attic from the choir loft, and a side door to the balcony. Whoever was doing Preacher Bertram's voice could be hiding in either place."

Frenchy nodded. "Yes. And there are other places. My great-great-grandfather designed this church. When I dreamed of being an architect, I studied his blue prints like they were maps to a hidden treasure. Trust me, there are more places in this church where people can hide than you can imagine."

Frenchy paused a moment, took a deep breath, and then walked toward the stairs. He felt a twinge in his stomach as he began his climb up toward the choir loft.

Meredith Menorah shouted, "Frenchy."

Frenchy turned and looked at her.

"Frenchy," she said softly. "When you see Silencer, tell him that I couldn't face the accusations. Tell him that I love him. I will always love him. But I'm a coward. I don't have his courage. I can't stand the thought of being put through the tortures he has suffered. I want my death to be fast and final. I can't stand the thought of having my spirit broken by a slow agonizing death in prison. I know what I'm about to do is a mortal sin, but God help me, I can't help myself. I feel I have no choice."

Meredith Menorah bolted out the front door of the church. She flew down the long stretch of steps toward the cliff. Indeed, the view from the steps above the cliff made her feel as though she were flying. For a moment, she felt free as a bird. She felt peaceful as a sparrow flying just for the joy of flying.

But as she approached the periphery of the cliff, the thought of the painful landing she would have to suffer frightened her. She slowed to a halt near the edge of the cliff.

Frenchy stood on the stairs up to the choir loft for a moment and considered what Meredith Menorah had said. He suddenly realized she was talking about killing herself. He thundered down the stairs, through the church, out the door, down the seemingly endless column of steps, and toward Meredith Menorah and the cliff.

Meredith Menorah stood motionless on the edge of the cliff. She looked back toward the church and saw Frenchy running toward her. Still she looked at the church. She thought it was the most beautiful view she'd ever seen or ever would see. While living at the church, as much as she had learned to hate Preacher Bertram, she had learned to love the church. At times the church seemed to possess a kind of loving spirit all of its own. Through these last months, her love for Silencer and her love for the church were all that kept her wanting to go on with life. Now that didn't seem to be enough, because all that she loved--Silencer and the church--seemed certain for destruction.

Meredith Menorah mustered up her courage to jump. But courage or no courage, she knew jumping from the cliff could only be described as an act of cowardice. Still she prepared herself to jump. She closed her eyes and prayed that somehow her soul would find salvation. She took a tiny step back way from the edge of the cliff, and she took a deep breath. As she put her foot forward to throw herself from the cliff and toss her life away, Frenchy Dean grabbed hold of her arm. She struggled to break away from him.

"Don't!" he yelled at her. "There is a purpose in your life. The survival of this church, my great-great-grandfather's church, is dependent on you having the courage to make things right. Although it may take many, many, years--perhaps even more than one life time--it will be possible. But it will only be possible with your help. Please. I have very selfish reasons for wanting you to live, but believe me, I also want you to live because I care about you."

Meredith Menorah broke away from him. She knocked him to the ground. "There is nothing I can do to help anyone; not Silencer, not the church, and not you. Don't ask me for help. Ask God. He is the only one who possesses the power."

"Meredith! Don't! Oh God." Frenchy Dean scrambled to take hold of her. He did his best to save her from jumping and. . . .

Visit Sayata

CHAPTER ONE

My cousins Sarah and Benjamin stood with me on the front porch of our Great-grandfather Aaron Clayburg's two story, white clapboard home. Snow flurries were blowing in what was an unseasonably cold March wind. This was some more first day of spring.

Shivering, we watched children playing in the park which was across the narrow street from us. Some of the children were trying to build snowmen. Other children had kites flying among the snowflakes. As we watched the children dance across the icy ground, joyfully fighting to control their kites in the wind, we listened to their laughter. We also listened to the weeping coming from inside of great-grandfather's house. This day was a sad day. Great-grandfather Aaron Clayburg was dead.

Sarah stared at the green rocking chair next to her and solemnly reflected, "Great-grandfather use to sit out here for hours on end. When the kids over in the park would get rowdy, he'd fuss, but I know that he secretly loved watching them play."

Benjamin peeled at the grey paint on the banister which had begun to flake with age. "Gramps was a card. He'd start all sorts of rumors among the neighborhood kids. Once, he had some of them believing old Widow Hannery's husband was a bank robber. He told them he had heard rumors that a small fortune was hidden in her flower garden. As always, some of the children believed him. They dug her entire garden up. I asked gramps why he told them such a thing. He said he couldn't stand to get near enough to Hannery's stinking gardenias to dig them up himself. So he gave the children a little incentive to do the job for him."

It was hard to believe great-grandfather was dead. He was 90 years old, but he had been in good health.

Sarah said, "Last Saturday I visited with great-grandfather. He fussed at me because I didn't call before popping in on him. After he got over being angry, he apologized and invited me to stay for lunch. All during lunch he seemed awfully anxious about something. I got the feeling someone was there, hiding somewhere in the house, that gramps wasn't telling me about. Before I left, father showed up, and he acted even more weird than gramps."

Benjamin shook his head. "You and your imagination."

I asked, "Where is your father? I thought he would be with the two of you. I swear your father purposely avoids me."

Benjamin said, "After mother disappeared, father pawned Sarah and me off on your mother. When your mother's health failed her, he did nothing to help. Maybe father avoids you because he feels guilty."

Sarah said, "He should feel guilty. When Aunt Millicent died, father didn't even attend her funeral. He is not going to attend great-grandfather's funeral either. I called him. He said he has got some kind of business that he has to take care of. I am thoroughly pissed."

Benjamin cocked his head. "Father use to never come about." Benjamin stared at me like he was considering something. "The only time Sarah and I would see him was when we visited him abroad. Even though you and I are the same age, you've always been more of a father to me than he was."

I said, "After mother died, I don't know what we would have done without great-grandfather."

Sarah said, "I'm going to really miss him. He was a cuss, but I loved him."

I looked at Sarah and Benjamin. "We need to go on inside."

Benjamin looked away. "I don't think I can."

Sarah burst out crying.

I told them, "Great-grandfather had a long life. He had a good life. Don't cry. Let's go say good-bye."

Reluctantly, I opened the door. I stepped through the doorway and stopped. Right beside me, I saw Great-grandfather Clayburg's open coffin. I stared into the coffin at his rigid face. It was covered with thick, white make-up. I noticed his once bushy white hair had been shortened and greased down. Suddenly, I caught a whiff of putrid smelling gardenias. I was furious. Great-grandfather hated gardenias. Then I saw the Widow Hannery sitting in the corner and crying. I no longer felt angry; just sad.

All of a sudden, a wasp flew into my hair and stuck its stinger deep down into my scalp. It stung like hell. I moaned, "I've been stung in the head." Three seconds later, I fell against great-grandfather's coffin and then hit the floor. I passed out.

Shortly afterwards, I thought I woke up in great-grandfather's favorite black leather armchair. Great-grandfather was standing over me. I felt like a little child again. Old man Hannery was sitting on a stool beside me and was cleaning where my arms and face were cut. I saw Mrs. Hannery standing on the other side of me, holding a bottle of iodine. She told me that I was lucky; I wasn't going to need stitches. I asked great-grandfather what happened. He answered me with a question. "You don't remember?"

Without warning, a smell of ammonia burned my nose. My scalp hurt with a tingling, biting pain. Great-grandfather vanished and I saw some strange man standing with the Widow Hannery. They were looking down at me slumped in great-grandfather's favorite armchair.

Benjamin put his hand on my shoulder, "You okay?"

"I'll live."

The man standing with the Widow Hannery said, "Well, if you don't, I'll do you up nice."

Frowning, Mrs. Hannery said, "This is Myles Morton. He's the mortician who prepared Aaron for burial."

I gave Myles Morton sort of a dirty look. I started to tell him that I didn't like the way his people made great-grandfather look. But I didn't say anything.

Sarah said, "You sure are lucky you have been getting those bee serum allergy shots. Remember the last time you were stung by a bee. We had to rush you to the hospital. For a minute I thought we were going to have to rush you to the hospital again, but you don't seem to be having any trouble breathing. You're not swelling up."

"I'll be okay."

Mrs. Hannery sniffled into her white handkerchief. "I am so sorry Matthew. When I saw that first wasp fly out of the covering which had been placed over the gardenia's, I should have taken them outside. I don't know who is responsible for those damn gardenias being here. Aaron hated gardenias."

Surprised, I said, "You mean you are not responsible for the gardenias being here?"

"Of course not. I know Aaron hated gardenias. Besides, I have better sense than to send gardenias in this cold. Gardenias wilt especially bad in this kind of weather. Just between the greenhouse and here, the leaves have started to yellow. I'm sure the reason they were covered in damp burlap was to keep them moist and to protect them from the cold, but it didn't work."

Myles Morton said, "Don't fuss at Mrs. Hannery. She has been real upset at Mr. Aaron Clayburg's death. But that didn't stop her from keeping herself together long enough to make the funeral arrangements; arrangements which apparently your family was unable to handle. You should thank her."

I said, "I'm not fussing at Mrs. Hannery. Ma'am, I do thank you."

Sarah said, "You made the arrangements."

"Yes. A friend helped. The three of you were so upset. I called Kenneth and volunteered to make the arrangements. He thanked me. I'm sorry if I've made a mess of things."

I said, "Of course you haven't, and we thank you."

Sarah said, "Father should of taken care of the arrangements. It was wrong of him to put all of this off on you. When he told me that he had someone taking care of the funeral details, I thought he meant one of the people who works for him. I'm sorry we didn't help you."

"I thought the world of Aaron. I can't believe he is gone. If I knew who was responsible, I. . . ."

We all stared at Mrs. Hannery. I asked, "What do you mean; responsible?"

"Kenneth didn't tell you about the parchment found next to Aaron's body?"

"No."

"Kenneth is like that Officer Carlson. Officer Carlson thinks the parchment being there was just a coincidence. They think Aaron just happened to be looking at the parchment when he died. But I don't."

A friend, Officer Robins stepped up. "Ada Hannery, now don't you start again. There is not any telling how long Aaron had that parchment. He just happened to be looking at it when he had the heart attack."

"I don't believe Aaron just happened to be looking at the parchment when he died. I don't believe it."

Officer Robins said, "Okay. Maybe Aaron didn't just happen to be looking at the parchment. Maybe Aaron realized he was dying and pulled it out to create one last mystery and to pull one last joke on you."

Mrs. Hannery halfway smiled. "That would be Aaron.

But. . . ."

"Now no buts about it. Don't get yourself all worked up."

Myles Morton said, "The autopsy that was performed showed Mr. Clayburg died of a massive coronary. There was no sign that the heart attack had been induced with drugs. He was an old man. He died of natural causes."

Mrs. Hannery stated, "Fear, stress, can induce a heart attack."

I asked, "What kind of parchment was found? Do you remember what was written on it?"

Myles Morton interrupted. "I'll be back in the morning to take the body to the cemetery for burial."

Mrs. Hannery said, "Preacher Smith will be at the cemetery at about 9:00 AM for the grave side service."

Myles Morton solemnly shook his head. "That will be fine." Then Myles Morton and Officer Robins left together.

As soon as they left, Mrs. Hannery said, "The yellowed piece of parchment read, 'In the end, all debts shall be accounted for. But until final determination of proper disposition, the account of what happened in and beyond the Halls of Lockstock shall remain in suspense. The charges of murder shall be marked with red ink in a ledger as UNPAID. The ledger shall be closed and titled, THE SUSPENSE ACCOUNT."

Benjamin said, "Halls of Lockstock? Halls of this county?"

A woman walked up. "Lockstock is also the name of a mansion which stands on a pier partially over the ocean. My estranged husband lives there. Now Ada, stop upsetting Matthew, Benjamin, and Sarah. There is nothing to that parchment."

I stared at the woman. She looked familiar, but I didn't know her.

Sarah asked, "You know us?"

The woman pointed to the photograph hanging over the mantel piece. The photograph was of Sarah, Benjamin, and myself. The woman said, "Aaron use to speak very fondly of you. He loved you very much."

Mrs. Hannery said, "This is Mrs. Claudius Urbane. Her husband is a very famous movie producer."

Benjamin asked, "What movies has he. . . ."

Mrs. Urbane stopped Benjamin. She said, "My husband and I are separated. If you don't mind, I really do not wish to talk about him or his movies."

Sarah quickly looked away from Mrs. Urbane. Sarah asked Mrs. Hannery, "What do you think the parchment means? Exactly how do you think it is connected to great-grandfather's death?"

Mrs. Hannery said, "The parchment is obviously in reference to a murder which took place at Lockstock. I keep thinking about that night. . . ." Mrs. Hannery didn't finish what she had been about to say. "I'm just upsetting you. The parchment probably means nothing. Aaron was probably getting ready to start another rumor among the neighborhood kids. He use to love to stir them up and give them an adventure. He use to love telling them all sorts of wild things, almost as much as he use to love making me angry." Mrs. Hannery burst into tears. Crying loudly, she ran into the kitchen.

Mrs. Urbane said, "Don't press her on this. She has taken Aaron's death awfully hard."

Mrs. Urbane then followed after Mrs. Hannery.

Sarah asked, "So what do the two of you think?"

I said, "Great-grandfather died of natural causes. Except for the parchment, there is no reason to suspect otherwise."

Sarah said, "All and all, Mrs. Hannery is a level headed person. She is convinced the parchment being found next to great-grandfather's body was not a coincidence. I keep thinking back to last Saturday. You weren't here. Greatgrandfather was hiding something or someone. He was acting weird."

Benjamin said, "I don't know. What can we do? The police aren't going to investigate."

I said, "There is nothing we can do."

Sarah said, "I'm not going to ask Mrs. Hannery to talk any more about the parchment now. But I for one am not going to ignore the fact that she obviously suspects something. When enough time has passed so that she won't get so upset, I intend to talk with her about this."

The next morning, we buried Great-grandfather Aaron Clayburg in the Lockstock Cemetery.

Mystery Madness

Books that will not cure your insomnia