The Bass Wore Scales (21 page)

“
What a deal!” I said. “I guess I missed lunch, but now supper is served. And no waiting, either.”

“
I called Kent,” said Meg, “and he said you were on your way back. So I went ahead and ordered for you.”

“
Great,” I said, sitting down and picking up my burger with both hands. I took a big bite.

“
Wait a minute,” said Pete. “Aren’t you going to tell us what happened at the Baptist Church? You’ve been running around all day, and all we have are rumors and conjecture. We need some answers.”

“
Yeah,” added Meg. “Answers.”

“
Mggrumph,” I said, swallowing hard. “Can’t talk…eating…”

“
Oh, you’ll talk, all right,” said Meg. “Or I’ll take that plate straight to the dishwasher.”

“
Okay, okay.” I grabbed another quick bite and chewed quickly. “Here’s what I know. Or what I assume, anyway.”

“
Brother Jimmy Kilroy is dead,” I started. “We found him this morning lying, face down, in the pool in his office.”

“
His pool?” said Pete.

“
It’s a pool, sure enough,” I said. “Maybe more like a spa. It was in his bathroom. You guys wouldn’t believe that place.”

“
We heard about it from Nancy,” Meg said. “She said she’d never seen anything like it.”

“
That’s for sure. Not in a church anyway,” I said. “Could I maybe have one of these French fries while I’m talking? Anyway, here’s how I figure it.”

“
Brother Kilroy decides that he needs to baptize Kokomo because he’s given his life to Jesus. Rev. Garridos disagrees, but he’s heading back to Spain so Brother Kilroy decides that the time is right. He’s been over to Penelope Pelicane’s trailer a few times since we visited, and Kokomo likes him, probably because he’s been sneaking him Milk Duds. Anyway, Dr. Pelicane’s getting ready to head down to South Carolina—USC, I think—and time’s running out. Still with me?”

Meg and Pete both nodded. I ate another French fry.

“
So Brother Kilroy is over at the trailer visiting Kokomo—probably loading him up with Milk Duds on the sly—when Kent calls up and asks Penelope to go out. She says that she can’t go—that she has to stay and watch the gorilla, and this is the opening that Brother Kilroy’s been waiting for. He volunteers to babysit Kokomo for the evening. He tells Penelope that his wife’s out of town and to stay out as late as she likes. He’s going to take this opportunity to baptize Kokomo, and no one will be the wiser. This is more than a fortuitous event. This is Divine Intervention.”

I grabbed another bite of my burger and continued.

“
Now, if Brother Kilroy’s a Presbyterian or a Methodist, a Lutheran or an Episcopalian, there’s no problem. If Kokomo needs to get baptized, Brother Kilroy could do it with a squirt gun if he had to. But he’s not. He’s a Baptist, and you’re not born again unless you go under for the count.”

“
Is that true?” asked Pete. “Sprinkling doesn’t count?”

“
Of course it counts,” said Meg. “For us, anyway. Baptists just think a little differently.” She looked back at me. “Continue, please.”

I nodded. “So, Brother Kilroy figures he can do the baptism and get back to the trailer in a little over an hour. It should be pretty easy. It’s a twenty-minute drive to the New Fellowship Baptist Church, the baptism should only take a couple of minutes, and twenty minutes back. Penelope and Kent return after their night out, Kokomo is saved, and no one is the wiser.”

“
So he stole Kokomo and took him to the church?” asked Pete.

“
Yep. And he did it by himself. He told Noylene that he didn’t want anyone else involved. There’s a big baptismal pool in the sanctuary, but Brother Kilroy decided that he’d rather do the baptism in the smaller pool in his office. The spa. He’d already filled it up so he wouldn’t have to wait once they’d arrived. The minister and the gorilla got to the church, went into his office and went back to the bathroom where the spa is. Then something went wrong.”

“
Kokomo didn’t want to be dunked,” said Meg.

“
That could have been it.” I shrugged. “But normally, gorillas have no problem with water. So I’m thinking that something else might have triggered the rampage. Whatever it was, Kokomo went crazy, and a crazy five-hundred-pound gorilla is nothing to mess with. I’m telling you, the place was torn apart. Busted furniture, the piano, books…everything. Brother Kilroy was face down in the pool when we got there this morning. Kent says his neck was broken and he was knocked pretty hard in the head, but it was drowning that finished him off.”

“
So the gorilla killed him?” asked Pete.

“
It looks like it. The strange thing is that there were no other marks, no defensive bruises…nothing.”

“
But Nancy said that when you got there the door was locked,” said Meg.

“
From the inside. Not only that, the key was still in the lock. It looks like an open and shut case. I don’t know what Mona Kilroy is going to say, but I don’t think that Kokomo has much of a prayer. It’s a shame all the way around.”

“
Yeah,” said Pete. “And we’re going to get some really bad publicity. We were doing pretty well with this racecar thing, too. By the way,” he added, changing the subject.” “How did that dinner you were cooking turn out?”

“
It was delicious,” answered Meg. “Amazing. Onion tart, scallops and baked pears.”

I tried to look humble. “It was nothing, really.”

“
I can hardly wait to see what he’s going to serve tonight.”

“
Huh?” I said, startled. “Tonight?”

“
Yes, dear, it’s Tuesday,” said Meg, with a smile. “Fridays and Tuesdays. Don’t fret too much. We’ll have a late supper. See you around nine?” She gave me a quick kiss and disappeared out the door.

“
So, what’re you having tonight?” asked Pete, with a grin.

“
What have you got in the walk-in? Any leftovers?”

“
I can give you a couple of marinated steaks and some twice-baked potatoes you can heat up.” Pete thought for a moment. “Some salad, bleu-cheese dressing, and a couple of pieces of strawberry short cake. You’ll have to grill the steaks and come up with your own wine, though.”

“
I can do that. Thanks, Pete! You’re a life saver!”

“
No problem. I’m just glad to help another bachelor in trouble.”

“
How’s your Communion Fish venture going?”

“
It’s going great. The plant has the machinery retooled and the recipes finished. We should have some prototypes ready to go within a couple of weeks. You think your new priest will try ‘em one Sunday?”

“
She’s pretty much a traditionalist,” I said, “but I’ll ask her. Can we get
Barabba-que
?”

“
Now, Hayden, you know that wouldn’t be appropriate. Holy Week is over. Let’s start you off with
Tongues of Fire—Cajun Spicy
.”

“
Send over a couple bags,” I said. “If we don’t use them for communion, we can always munch on them during choir practice.”

* * *

“
Marilyn,” I barked, “hustle your duck-pins in here. You’re supposed to be my secretary. Where’ve you been for the past two days?”

“
I told you,” Marilyn said. “I went to a feminist empowerment weekend.”

“
I didn’t pay for that, did I?” I didn’t remember authorizing such an expense--not on my bread and water salary--but then I remembered that Marilyn kept the books.

“
You paid for it all right.”

Marilyn smiled; her lips, two red worms lying together on the cracked sidewalk of her countenance, first stretching out to take advantage of the early morning warmth, but then, later in the afternoon, writhing on the hot cement before finally turning brown and curling up at the ends--it was a cruel smile and annelidical.

“
And now that I’m empowered, you can’t tell me to hustle my duck-pins in here anymore.”

“
Sheesh, Marilyn,” I said. “You know I think of you as the sister I never had.”

“
But, you have a sister. You have three sisters.”

“
I think of you as the sister I NEVER had. Not the ones I DO have. Now get me a cup of java, will you? And hold the castor oil.”

I settled back in my chair, the shadows playing with the Venetian blinds like a bad tailor sewing a burlap suit. I didn’t know what was going on yet, but I knew one thing: somebody was trawling for information, and Fishy Jim was the bait, Betsy was the hook, Marilyn was one of those red and white bobber thingys and I was the sinker.

Something was about to happen. I could tell. I’m a detective.

* * *

I clattered to a stop, wrapping up another successful venture into the world of bad detective fiction. Meg was due any time and supper, sans steaks, was on the table. The steaks would only take a few minutes, and I’d be off the alimentary hook for another few days. Baxter, as usual, had ascertained a steak supper was imminent and assumed a supine position under the table, waiting for any spare scraps that happened to be thrown his way. I hadn’t seen Archimedes since last night, but he’d be back around before too long.

I headed into the kitchen whistling a Bach toccata, took the steaks out to the grill and laid them on the fire just as Meg walked up.

“
Hey, Honeybunch,” she said sweetly, giving me a kiss. “What are we having for dinner?”

“
Honeybunch, eh?”

“
Would you prefer ‘Pookie-Bear?’”

“
No thank you. As you can plainly see, we’re having grilled steaks. Also twice-baked potatoes, tossed salad with home-made bleu-cheese dressing and strawberry shortcake for dessert. Are you impressed?”

“
Very impressed. It sounds suspiciously like the Tuesday night special from Pete’s walk-in.”

“
Yeah? Well…I’ll have you know I’m working very hard on this dinner. I have to grill the steaks. It counts.”

“
Oh, I didn’t say it didn’t count. It smells delicious. By the way, I talked with Noylene after I left the Slab. She said that Wormy is ready to start selling plots over at his Bellefontaine Cemetery. He’s got the house and the barns down and the roads pushed in by the bulldozers.”

“
Great,” I said. “Should we go ahead and get ours? I think the side by side His ‘n Hers would be a good choice.”

“
Not yet. We don’t need to rush. There’s plenty of room. It won’t fill up for a hundred years or so.”

Chapter 13

I was on my second stogy and third drink when the door flew open and a couple of ginks wedged themselves through the opening.

“
Hello boys,” I snarled through the cigar smoke. “I wondered when you’d show up.” I recognized them right away. The big one was called Ray, the little one was Reef

--a couple of sharks from downtown. I knew mussel when I saw it.

“
What’d you do with Marilyn?”