Pushing Murder by Eleanor Boylan Page A

excitement. Well”—Sadd edged toward the library—“I hope the book is in and there isn’t a waiting list for it.” He smiled feebly and disappeared.
    Captain Redmond held open the chapel door. A half-dozen persons, including two police officers, sat in pews or stood in the aisle, and video equipment lay about. The sun must have emerged from clouds at that moment, for the vivid old windows on one side of the chapel lit up as if controlled by a heavenly dimmer and a reddish glow bathed the transept.
    Captain Redmond leaned over and said in my ear, “This is mostly press. If anyone speaks to you, I wouldn’t mention knowing the victim or you’ll be swamped.”
    Captain, you read my mind. I nodded and tried to look grateful, though I had an uneasy feeling he was saving me for himself alone. Mrs. Ling pushed me down the aisle and asked if I wanted to be helped into a pew. I said no, I’d just sit here for a minute or two. Was this left front pew where the—the woman was found? No, the captain said, it was the right one.
    He walked back down the aisle, and Mrs. Ling slid into another pew. I sat contemplating the shiny wooden seat, the ramrod-straight back, the low kneeling bench. I envisioned the “broken blossoms” and Janet slumped here clutching her scapular. I thought gratefully of Kit extricating it for me. I was glad it was lying in my drawer upstairs and not amid the contents of Janet’s pocketbook, being pawed over …
    Why, oh, why had I come? Or why couldn’t some non-English-speaking broom pusher have brought me down? I stared at the altar, which was bare of the flowers that should adorn it. Something else was missing—the little red light that had flickered there yesterday.
    Captain Redmond had come back up the aisle and was squatting beside my chair. He said, “Pretty altar, isn’t it?”
    â€œYes.” I roused myself and tried to think of something innocuous to say. “But where’s the little light?”
    â€œLight?”
    Clara, you fool! “Er—yes, I peeked in here once before, and there was a pretty red light on the altar.” I started to turn my chair, and Mrs. Ling stood up.
    â€œThat would have been the Sanctuary Lamp,” said the captain. “It means the Blessed Sacrament is in the tabernacle. The Sisters took it away when all hell broke loose yesterday. When did you say you were here?”
    â€œOh, quite a while ago.” We started down the aisle, and my lie flew up to the sacred rafters and bounced back in my face.
    Through the door came an elderly nun. She smiled and nodded, then said, “Aren’t you the lady who was here yesterday in the wheelchair? I remember that pretty white hair of yours. And to think it was less than an hour before that poor woman was killed!”
    And as if that wasn’t enough, the door opened again, and Dan stood there. “Oh, hi, Captain Redmond.”
    â€œHello, Dan. What brings you here?”

10
    Mortified and exhausted, I was assisted back into bed by Kit and a scolding Sister Agnes, who said I’d tired myself and she didn’t think I should let that policeman talking to my son in the hall come in and tire me further. I groaned and said it was the last thing I wanted anyway.
    Sadd, reading by the window, said, “There’s a well-worn quotation about practicing to deceive.”
    Sister Agnes checked my temperature, said that all my prayers were to be uttered in bed from now on, and left.
    Straightening my pillows, Kit said, “I don’t know why you’re so hung up on when we were in the chapel. We didn’t even know Folsom was coming back at that point. We just went down to see Dan.”
    â€œAnd Dan had just gotten mugged because of Folsom.” I was weakly belligerent. “And I was desperate to disassociate myself from her. Now, thanks to Mrs. Ling and a sweet old nun, I’m a liar and Captain