to our quick work, we feel confident that we've closed the book on yet another disgusting chapter of exploitation of the young." Each time he finished the statement, the unseen man began again, trying on new inflections and tuning up the words here and there.
Santos buried his head in his hands just as Lieutenant Abromowitz poked his head in the room, repeating, "… another disgusting case of—" He stopped abruptly when he spotted his detective. "Sorry, George, just getting ready for the press conference on that Fleming pervert. What the hell are you doing way back here?" He noticed Auntie Lil and his face flushed instantly and ominously red. "I've been looking for you," he warned her, stepping toward her and placing his hands on his hips like an angry father about to chew out his wild teenage daughter.
Detective Santos held up a hand. "Please, Lieutenant, I told you I'd take care of it. I've been talking to her. She understands the seriousness of it."
It took all of Auntie Lil's considerable will not to speak up.
"Did you tell her I'd arrest her if she continued to interfere?"
"I was just getting to that part," Santos assured him. "Let me handle it, okay?"
"Arrest me?" Auntie Lil demanded. "I'd like to see you try."
"So would I," Abromowitz agreed, leaning across the table on his knuckles. "Oh, boy, so would I."
She was a coward. There was nothing to do but admit it. It had been sweet of Detective Santos to defend her, but it had proved, as always, hopeless to try and change Abromowitz's mind. He was convinced that Auntie Lil was bad news, period. There was no way he would let her help. Following more dire warnings from him that she was to butt out immediately (and her false reassurances that she would) Auntie Lil had returned to St. Barnabas to see how she could help with that day's meal. Her desire was driven partly by a wish to atone for her mistakes and partly by her need to find out more about either Emily or Eva.
Yet, when she passed Adelle and her followers waiting patiently in line, she did not even murmur the faintest detail about poor Eva's fate.
She just couldn't do it. Not yet. Much of what the detectives said had stung its way into her heart. She needed time to think it through. And, besides, the actresses would find out about Eva soon enough and, once they did, would probably be filled with even more resolve to discover both murderers.
Except, of course, that one person was probably responsible for both deaths. Which didn't lessen the danger any. Oh, dear—it was getting rather unpleasant.
The St. Barnabas soup kitchen was equally unsettling. She arrived to find the kitchen at a standstill. Only two volunteers had shown up. Father Stebbins was nowhere to be seen, and long rows of raw chickens stretched out on the steel countertop looking cold and forlorn in the bare room.
"What is going on?" Auntie Lil asked in alarm. "We have to open the gate in less than three hours."
"Volunteers are dropping out like flies because the police keep calling them in for questioning," one of the two women still there reported. "Something else must have happened. And I don't know where Father Stebbins is. He rushed through here about fifteen minutes ago and didn't even say hello."
The trio stared at one another and, most typically, it was Auntie Lil who finally took charge. "You go and beg as much rice as you can from Mr. Chang on the corner," she told one of the volunteers. "If you need help carrying the containers, take Franklin with you. Do you know what he looks like? I think I saw him in line." The woman nodded and hurried off to do her bidding. Auntie Lil turned to the remaining woman. "Do we have any lemons?"
"There's a whole carton in the walk-in," the volunteer replied in a skeptical voice.
"Go get them and slice them. I'll find the tinfoil. We'll have lemon chicken over rice. That only takes an hour. We'll just have to bake portions in shifts. You help me cook. People will have to set their own tables today."
She could have run the U.S. Navy without a hitch.
The enormous task confronting them took all of their energy and, for the next hour, Auntie Lil had little time to contemplate Eva's death or Father Stebbins' inexcusable absence. She had just removed the first batch of chicken from the large ovens when Father