The Good Friday Murder Read Free

together. More likely, anintruder came in. By the time Mrs. Talley’s body was found, any evidence there might have been had been completely destroyed by the twins.” She paused meaningfully. “The body wasn’t found for several days. You can imagine what a mess that house was.”
    “I can.”
    “And it was convenient or expedient to assume the twins were guilty. Sister—Miss Bennett.” Mrs. McAlpin looked across her desk earnestly at me, and I knew she had come to the reason for our little chat. “Greenwillow needs your help, quite desperately, in fact. We have tried every means at our disposal to persuade the town of Oakwood to accept us. The father of one of our residents gave us the services of his advertising firm so that we could place informative literature in the hands of every resident in town. We sponsored an evening question-and-answer session, which seemed to be going well until a group of very vocal and very hostile people took over, undoing much of our work. The final vote of the council is tonight. I no longer know where we stand. I’m afraid the vote will be very close. Now that you’re a resident of Oakwood, you can speak for us. Several very wonderful people have done so already, but we can use another voice.”
    “I’d be happy to speak. I’m really very grateful to you for telling me about all this.”
    Mrs. McAlpin’s executive face broke into a smile. She rose, walked around the desk, and took my right hand in both of hers.
    “Thank you. Thank you so much. We really want that house. It has everything Greenwillow needs, space inside, land outside. I’m very grateful to you, Miss Bennett.”
    I stood and shook her hand. For a moment I thought she might kiss me. “I’ll do my best,” I said.
    “That’s all we can ask.”

3
    The monthly meeting of the Oakwood Council began at eight. Anticipating a crowd, I drove over half an hour early. The parking lot was already filling, and inside the firehouse, the seats up front were already taken. I found an empty chair in the fourth row and sat.
    The mayor called the meeting to order a few minutes after eight. By then every seat was filled and a handful of people were standing along the side aisles. The firehouse wasn’t air-conditioned, but a woman had set several fans going in the front and back of the large room. I was glad I had kept the shirtdress on; anything else and I would have been sweltering.
    There were several obligatory rituals to be performed at the outset, and I sensed the impatience of the spectators as the minutes were read and approved and some rather boring old business was taken care of. Finally, about nine-fifteen, the mayor addressed the main issue.
    “We have a question before us,” he said, moving papers this way and that as though he could not quite remember what the question was. “Resolved: That the town of Oakwood grant a variance of statute 703 to permit the group known as Greenwillow Associates to buy the property at 411 Central Avenue, known as the Aldrich property.” He looked up, his mouth set. “Are there any comments for or against?”
    The number of hands raised, people rising from their seats, shouts of “Yes, right here,” took me by surprise. It seemed that everyone present had something to say. My first reaction was to be thankful that I had napped in the afternoon, givingme, I hoped, the strength to stay awake for what promised to be a long night.
    The mayor recognized a man in the front row. “State your name and address for the record, please.”
    The man, already on his feet, said, “Walter Harris, 37 Mill Road.” Then, without taking a breath, he continued. “I would like to state in the strongest possible terms my unalterable objection to allowing Greenwillow to buy the property in question or any other property that may in the course of time come on the market in Oakwood. As you all know, I have nothing against the retarded. We’ve gone over and over the dangers that exist to the people