“So,” Gregor said, trying hard not to sound like he was clearing his throat. “That’s a little unusual, I’ll admit. How do you even know you’re a suspect, if you’re the one who’s investigating the case? Or do I have that wrong?”
“No, you have that right,” Gary Albright said. “But I know, and everybody in town does, too, and that’s a problem there’s no easy way around. I could call in the state police, but I don’t want to. I don’t like the way they behave, and they don’t like me.”
“Gary . . .” John Jackman said carefully.
“. . . is a Christian,” Gary finished for him. “And I mean it. I’d like to have somebody I can trust come in and look at this. Especially because I’m not the only Christian on the suspect list. In fact, everybody on the suspect list is somebody who at least calls himself a Christian. As to whether or not they are really are Christians, I’ve got a pastor who says that’s up to God and not me to judge.”
“Ah,” Gregor said. “Well, that’s unusual too, isn’t it? That everybody on the list would call himself a Christian. It would be unusual here in Philadelphia, unless you were including Catholics under the term ‘Christian,’ which I take it you’re not.”
“No,” Gary said. “And it would be unusual even for Snow Hill these days. We’ve got a chapter of the American Humanist Association now. Well, we always did have it. Henry Wackford started it years ago, before I was even born, but it’s got a lot of members now. Something like thirteen. There are new people. People who’ve moved in to work at the high tech firms. That’s the governor’s big idea on how to improve the economy of Pennsylvania.”
“All right,” Gregor said. “But the chief suspects are all Christians, by which I’ll assume you mean evangelical Protestants of some kind. Why?”
Gary Albright made a quick look of distaste. It would be the only time Gregor would see him break his impassivity during this conversation. “There was a deception,” he said. “A big one.”
“What kind of deception?” Gregor asked.
“End of last summer, we had elections for school board,” Gary said. “School board is a big deal in a place as small as Snow Hill. It’s where we play out all the drama the town has. School board and town council. There was a school board election. The board that was sitting at the time of the election had been in place for something like a decade, maybe more. Henry Wackford had been chairman for more than that. Some of the other individuals might have gone in and out. Anyway, some people were unhappy with the way the board was conducting business. I was.”
“You were unhappy, why?” Gregor asked. “You didn’t like the curriculum? You didn’t like the teachers they were hiring?”
“I didn’t like the confusion,” Gary Albright said, “and I wasn’t the only person in town to feel that way. Things were sloppy. They didn’t get done on time. We’re building a new school building, for instance. A junior high school building. The project’s been going on for years and it’s stalled. Then there was the library at the high school. It was in such poor shape we got put on probation by the accreditation committee. So, when Franklin Hale asked me if I’d run for the board, I said I would.”
“And who is Franklin Hale?” Gregor asked.
“A son of a bitch,” Gary said, but he was still impassive. It was as if he were imparting a matter of fact. “He owns a tire store, tires, auto parts, whatever. In town. His prices suck lemons, if you ask me, but lots of people from the development don’t know enough about cars to get them started in the morning without a manual, so they go to Franklin and he babies them through whatever they need and then he charges them through the nose. He was running for board chairman. He got a few other people to run, including me.”
“And I take it you won,” Gregor said, “and displaced the old school board?”
“Yeah, we did,” Gary said, “except that one of the displacers wasn’t one of Franklin’s hand-picked slate of candidates. All the old members of the board were forced off, but one of the seats on the board went to a woman named Ann-Victoria Hadley, who was, well, what can I say? Not Franklin Hale’s favorite person.”
“Not yours, either, I take it,” Gregor said.
“No,” Gary Albright said. “I have to admit there’s something admirable about that woman. I hope I’m in half as good shape at ninety-one. But no, I don’t like her much. Her family’s been the town’s wealthiest since forever. She went off to Vassar College. She thinks she’s smarter than everybody else and she’s even more than half right. But she’s arrogant and she’s not a Christian.”