Part 10 (2/2)

”Where is Perry? Does anyone know?” It was Sally's call that had sent me running out in the dark soon enough to raise the alarm so Bankston and Melanie hadn't a chance to get Phillip away.

”He's checked himself into a mental hospital in the city,” Arthur said.

That was undoubtedly the place for him, but it would be hard on Sally.

”Benjamin?”

”We're sending him to State Psychiatric for evaluation. He also confessed to several other murders we'd definitely solved. Somehow finding Pettigrue's body unhinged him.”

”Oh, Arthur,” I said wearily, and began to cry for so many different reasons I couldn't count them. Arthur stuffed tissues in my hand, and after a while brought over a wet washrag and wiped my face very carefully.”I guess roller skating tomorrow night is off?” Arthur asked seriously.I gaped at him in shock until I realized that Arthur-of all people!-was making a joke. I couldn't help smiling. It slid all around my face, but it was a smile.”I've got to go back to the station, Roe. They're still sorting through the stuff they found in the search, and there's a lot we don't know yet. How Bankston got Mamie Wright to come to the meeting early. Why he let Melanie mail you that candy. He'd bought it for her and brought it back from some convention in St. Louis. But she had it in for you in a big way, and she thought you were the one who liked chocolate creams. That was the stupidest crime, since the typewriter's sitting in Gerald Wright's insurance office. We need to ask more questions, so we can back up these confessions with some solid evidence.Bankston has waived his right to have a lawyer present, but sooner or later he's gonna regret it and that'll be the end of the confession. Back to work for me.” ”Okay, Arthur. I was glad to see you come down the stairs tonight.”

”I was glad to see you alive.”

”It was close.”

”I know.” Then he bent over and kissed me, and I thought I was getting to be quite a hussy.

”I'll be back tomorrow,” he promised, and then he was gone, and for the first time in forever I was alone. I was exhausted to the bone, but I could not sleep.I was afraid to close my eyes.

I turned on the television to CNN, to find that I was on it. They were using a picture I'd had made when I joined the library staff. I looked impossibly sweet and young.

I was on the news. I'd be in the books when this case joined others in accounts of true murder cases. I had seen real murderers and I had almost been really murdered. That was something to ponder. I flicked the remote control to off.I thought of Bankston and Melanie coming into the VFW Hall that night, disappointed to see me, maybe, since they expected I would have received and eaten the chocolate by that time. And I could see them waiting, waiting, for someone there to go looking for Mamie Wright. I remembered how fresh from the shower Bankston had looked when he was carrying in the stolen golf bag the day the Buckleys had been slaughtered. He'd been so s.h.i.+ny and clean ... I had never, never suspected him. I heard Melanie's voice as she'd said, ”I've always wanted to do this,” and kicked me.It was too close, too recent, I'd been frightened too deeply.Of course, this hadn't turned out to be a real puzzler, like the 1928 intrafamilial poisonings in Croyden, England, unsolved to this day. Was Mrs.Duff guilty?... or could it have been ... I drifted away in sleep.

Charlaine Harris lives in Magnolia, Arkansas. She is the author of two previous mysteries, Sweet and Deadly and Secret Rage. Real Murder introduces characters she plans to feature in future books.

Also by Charlaine Harris

Last Scene Alive

Club Dead

Living Dead in Dallas

Shakespeare's Counselor

Dead Until Dark

Shakespeare's Trollop

A Fool and His Honey

Shakespeare's Christmas

Shakespeare's Champion

Dead Over Heels

Shakespeare's Landlord

The Julius House

Three Bedrooms, One Corpse

A Bone to Pick

Real Murders

A Secret Rage

Sweet and Deadly

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