Baptism in Blood(94)

“That’s good.”

“What they don’t believe,” Gregor continued, “is that she’s telling the truth about the Black Mass or what­ever it was. And they don’t think she’s mistaken, either. They think she’s lying through her teeth.”

There was a lot of quiet breathing and coffee drinking down in Charlotte. Finally Susan Dunne said, “I find that interesting, Mr. Demarkian. In fact, I find that very inter­esting. Maybe you’re more right than I want to realize. Maybe she does need a small-town lawyer, a Bellerton law­yer even, just to keep track of all the… permutations.”

“Nobody can keep track of all the permutations.”

“Yes. Well. We can go through all this again tomor­row.”

“Of course. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you.”

“Oh, I’ll be looking forward to seeing you, too, Mr. Demarkian. I’ll be very glad to get my eyes on you at last. I’ve got to go.”

“I want to thank you again for the time you’re giving me. You must be a very busy woman.”

“I don’t think ‘busy’ is the word for it. I look forward to meeting you, Mr. Demarkian, and to discussing Bellerton’s other recent murder. That place is getting to be like Detroit.”

“I doubt it.”

“I don’t know what I doubt anymore. Good afternoon, Mr. Demarkian. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

This time the phone went to a dial tone. Gregor looked at the receiver for a moment, then put it down. Clayton Hall was sitting on the corner of a desk a few feet away, kicking one heel in the air. Gregor finally realized what it was about the police station that kept striking him as so strange: There were no religious symbols in it. Like many small towns in the South, Bellerton interpreted the Supreme Court’s decisions limiting religious expression in public places very narrowly. If the Supreme Court said you couldn’t have a nativity scene in the middle of the town green for Christmas, then Bellerton wouldn’t have a nativ­ity scene on the town green for Christmas, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t have a perfectly nice creche in the lobby of the Town Hall. If the Supreme Court said that public schools couldn’t hang copies of the Ten Commandments on public school classroom walls, then Bellerton wouldn’t hang copies of the Ten Commandments on public school classroom walls—but more than two thirds of the students in every class would be wearing crosses on chains around their necks, and some of them would show up on the schools’ front walks in the morning, praying in loud voices and holding hands. What Gregor had particularly noticed was the way in which verses from the Bible seemed to be inscribed on plaques and hung everywhere. There was one in the lobby upstairs, and one just inside the front door of the library, too, which Gregor had seen on one of his rest­less excursions around town. The police department, though, was bare. There wasn’t as much as a single cross around Clayton’s or Jackson’s neck. There wasn’t a single Bible on a single desk. There weren’t even any quotes from the Declaration of Independence or the Constitution—fa­miliar tactics, Gregor knew, because the quotes so often had God in them. Clayton Hall was watching him look, kicking his free foot higher and higher in the air.

“So what is it?” Clayton said. “You didn’t expect her to just let you go in and sit down with Ginny on your own, did you?”

“No,” Gregor admitted. “That’s all right. I was thinking about something else.”

“If you were thinking this place is a dump, I agree with you. Everybody agrees with you. It isn’t going to change anytime soon.”

“I was thinking this was the only place in town, public property or private, where I haven’t seen a single religious symbol of any kind.”

“Why should we have religious symbols in the police department? The perpetrators can bring their own religious symbols. They do, too.”

“I didn’t say I thought you ought to have religious symbols,” Gregor said patiently, “it’s just that, well, to be frank, Clayton, relative to where I come from, this is a very religious town.”

“Baptist territory,” Clayton said solemnly.

“Baptist and Assemblies of God and denominations even smaller than that. I was talking about the pervasive­ness of it. It really is everywhere.”

“Excuse me if I don’t get your point, Mr. Demarkian, but no matter how significant all that kind of thing may seem to you, it’s no big deal to me. I grew up in Bellerton. We used to be a lot more religious than we are now. The Supreme Court used to let us get away with it.”