help with the manger scene, so why should they get the credit? Anyway, when we got here we found the baby Jesus tossed right out of his manger bed. Look. It's full of trash!” She smoothed the baby doll's blond curls over its forehead. “Some people got no respect for religion.”
“How true,” I murmured. I saw Luscious, who was waving at me. “Excuse me, I need to talk to the police chief.”
“He's an asshole,” said the Mother of God. “Nothing like this happened when Garnet was here.”
The people gathered around Luscious were all talking at once. His boyish face was more flushed than usual, and despite the chilly air, there were drops of perspiration on his brow.
“Press,” I announced as I approached. “Coming through.”
As the crowd broke apart, I heard murmurs of “What's this town coming to?” and “Damn teenagers.”
I attempted to look official. “Can someone please tell me what's happened?” I directed my question at Luscious, as though I expected him to be in charge of the situation.
The ever-present councilman, Marvin Bumbaugh, stepped forward. “As president of the borough council, I believe it's my job to talk to the press.”
Poor Luscious looked miserable. Once again, I wondered why any sane person would want to be the Lickin Creek police chief. No wonder Garnet had gotten out.
“Come on over here and take a look,” Marvin said to me. He climbed over the iron chain that surrounded the fountain and pointed inside the shed. There, in the manger itself and scattered on the straw-covered floor, lay dozens of objects that I immediately recognized as Civil War paraphernalia.
“Could this be what was stolen from Dr. Wilson's house?” I asked.
“Damn right, little lady.” The obnoxious dentist, himself, was breathing down my neck. “That's my stuff all right.”
“Is anything missing?”
He rested an arm on my shoulder and surveyed the scene, then pulled a handwritten list from his pocket and checked the items off as he spoke. “Officer's sword, muzzle-loader, Colt 1860, flag and presentation plaque from the First South Carolina Volunteer Infantry Regiment, field glasses, Grand Army of the Republic Medal. Nothing's missing. Why the hell do you suppose they dumped it here?”
Luscious answered. “Probably got tired of the joke and didn't want to be caught with your stuff in their car. Why don't you pack it up and take it home, Cletus?”
“Don't you want to check it for fingerprints first?” Cletus asked.
“No point. Everything was handled by the Living Word people before I got here.”
Dr. Wilson looked at Marvin for approval. When Marvin nodded, the dentist stepped over the chain and began to gather his treasures.
Marvin turned to face the people in the square. “You'uns better get the square cleaned up,” he snapped. “Just look what those animals are doing.”
Kings, shepherds, and wise men scurried to obey his command.
He then turned to Luscious, who seemed to shrink as the borough president directed his anger toward him. After blaming the policeman for just about every disaster to have occurred in Lickin Creek for the past decade, Marvin wound up by shouting, “And what have you done about finding Bernice Roadcap's murderer? Nothing, I'll bet.”
Luscious spluttered. “Still waiting for the autopsy—”
“You've got till Christmas, Miller. Then I'm calling in the state police.” He jabbed Luscious in the chest three or four times with his forefinger. “Five days.”
Luscious waited until Marvin was gone, then turned to me with a groan. “I'm a dead man,” he said. “If he calls in the state police, I might as well kiss my job goodbye.”
I patted him awkwardly on the arm. Showing sympathy has always been difficult for me. “Five days is a long time,” I assured him. I tried to ignore the memory of a New York policeman telling me that the longer an investigation took, the less chance there was of catching the perpetrator.
“Why don't you call the medical examiner's office and see if they can't rush the autopsy?” I suggested. “Explain to them how urgent it is.”
“I'll try. Do you have any other ideas?”
“I do. There are some people I want to question. They might be more willing to talk to a reporter than to a policeman. I'll get back to you as soon as I know something.”
I dropped off the film I'd taken of the fire at our regular One-Hour-Photo-Shop, and made the owner promise he'd send them over to the Chronicle as soon as they were ready.
When I got to the office, faithful Cassie was already at work, redesigning the front page to make room