Read Online 2 - Secrets: Ike Schwartz Mystery 2 by Frederick Ramsay - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Frederick Ramsay
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had been joking. He looked in her eyes and saw she meant it. He did not want to think about death, but he knew she had and wanted to make some preparations.
“You don’t have to tell your Poppa,” she said. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“I won’t say a word,” he lied.
Chapter Twelve
Blake finished greeting people at the narthex doors and walked the length of the church to the organ. Mary looked up and smiled. She had been packing up her belongings and changing back into her street shoes. She started to put her pedal shoes and music in a plastic bag.
“You can leave them here, you know,” he said. “You will be coming back, won’t you?”
“Oh, yes. That is if you will have me. Was I all right?”
“You were terrific. You will spoil us with your playing. I should not speak ill of the dead, but the truth is Waldo played terribly, and as a choir director….Come downstairs when you can. We have coffee, lemonade, cookies, too, I think. I know everyone will want to meet you.”
“Should I? Well then, I’ll see you there in a minute.”
Blake passed through the sacristy to his office, removed his vestments—surplice, cassock, and stole—and headed through the secretary’s office down the back stairs to the basement. A modest crowd lingered, drinking coffee and chatting. Heads swiveled toward him and away as he entered. He saw the regulars bundled together in one corner. They sent dark looks his way from time to time. He guessed he was getting a going over.
Mary appeared at his side, her eyes following the direction of his gaze. “Who are they?”
“The Wine and Cheese Society.”
“The what?”
“The people who spend time whining and saying jeeze.”
Mary laughed and gave him a sidelong look. “You’d better be careful. They might hear you and really have something to say.”
“After my remarks this morning, I think they may have already started.”
“Well, you were pretty strong, but I liked it. Keep it up and I might have to stay permanently.”
“That is an irresistible incentive. I’m convinced, but it might cost me half my congregation.”
“I wouldn’t want to be responsible for that. I suppose you could afford to lose the Wine and Cheese Society.”
Rose Garroway marched over. He waited anxiously, half expecting an attack. Rose qualified as an old timer. She and her sister Minnie, both in their late seventies, had attended the church for at least three decades. Blake waited expectantly. Hole or doughnut, he wondered?
“When?” Rose said, her eyes fixing him with a look that could mean anything.
“Excuse me. When what?”
“When will the Bible study start? I have been waiting for something like this for years.”
“Well, why not this week? Bring your Bible and we will get right at it. I suppose I should see how many others might be interested, though.”
“No problem there,” she said. “My sister Minnie, Mrs. Ruby, and Harold and Maxine Digeppi say they will come. You leave it to me. I’ll get it organized. You just be there. What time?”
“How about eleven. That way if we want to, we can go to lunch together afterward.”
“The mall. We’ll go to the mall. The food court has something like fifteen different outlets. We could try them all.”
Blake resumed his contemplation of the Wine and Cheese Society.
“What do you suppose they’re up to?” he said, half to himself.
“That bunch?” Rose looked in the same direction. “Well, since Millie Bass is smack in the middle, it’s a fair bet they are gossiping, or about to gossip, or arranging for a session when they can.”
“Oh, I hope not. It is very wrong, for a church secretary especially, to do that. She has access to files and—”
“You’re too late, Vicar. Millie has been the fountainhead of tittle-tattle and dirt for twenty years. She’s not likely to change now. If there is a confidence to be broken or a secret to be revealed, Millie’s your man—woman.”
“I’ll
“You don’t have to tell your Poppa,” she said. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“I won’t say a word,” he lied.
Chapter Twelve
Blake finished greeting people at the narthex doors and walked the length of the church to the organ. Mary looked up and smiled. She had been packing up her belongings and changing back into her street shoes. She started to put her pedal shoes and music in a plastic bag.
“You can leave them here, you know,” he said. “You will be coming back, won’t you?”
“Oh, yes. That is if you will have me. Was I all right?”
“You were terrific. You will spoil us with your playing. I should not speak ill of the dead, but the truth is Waldo played terribly, and as a choir director….Come downstairs when you can. We have coffee, lemonade, cookies, too, I think. I know everyone will want to meet you.”
“Should I? Well then, I’ll see you there in a minute.”
Blake passed through the sacristy to his office, removed his vestments—surplice, cassock, and stole—and headed through the secretary’s office down the back stairs to the basement. A modest crowd lingered, drinking coffee and chatting. Heads swiveled toward him and away as he entered. He saw the regulars bundled together in one corner. They sent dark looks his way from time to time. He guessed he was getting a going over.
Mary appeared at his side, her eyes following the direction of his gaze. “Who are they?”
“The Wine and Cheese Society.”
“The what?”
“The people who spend time whining and saying jeeze.”
Mary laughed and gave him a sidelong look. “You’d better be careful. They might hear you and really have something to say.”
“After my remarks this morning, I think they may have already started.”
“Well, you were pretty strong, but I liked it. Keep it up and I might have to stay permanently.”
“That is an irresistible incentive. I’m convinced, but it might cost me half my congregation.”
“I wouldn’t want to be responsible for that. I suppose you could afford to lose the Wine and Cheese Society.”
Rose Garroway marched over. He waited anxiously, half expecting an attack. Rose qualified as an old timer. She and her sister Minnie, both in their late seventies, had attended the church for at least three decades. Blake waited expectantly. Hole or doughnut, he wondered?
“When?” Rose said, her eyes fixing him with a look that could mean anything.
“Excuse me. When what?”
“When will the Bible study start? I have been waiting for something like this for years.”
“Well, why not this week? Bring your Bible and we will get right at it. I suppose I should see how many others might be interested, though.”
“No problem there,” she said. “My sister Minnie, Mrs. Ruby, and Harold and Maxine Digeppi say they will come. You leave it to me. I’ll get it organized. You just be there. What time?”
“How about eleven. That way if we want to, we can go to lunch together afterward.”
“The mall. We’ll go to the mall. The food court has something like fifteen different outlets. We could try them all.”
Blake resumed his contemplation of the Wine and Cheese Society.
“What do you suppose they’re up to?” he said, half to himself.
“That bunch?” Rose looked in the same direction. “Well, since Millie Bass is smack in the middle, it’s a fair bet they are gossiping, or about to gossip, or arranging for a session when they can.”
“Oh, I hope not. It is very wrong, for a church secretary especially, to do that. She has access to files and—”
“You’re too late, Vicar. Millie has been the fountainhead of tittle-tattle and dirt for twenty years. She’s not likely to change now. If there is a confidence to be broken or a secret to be revealed, Millie’s your man—woman.”
“I’ll
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