The Glass Village

“Well, I didn’t want to, I mean I didn’t want to leave my husband, but Earl said Judy could take care of them — as she’s doing now — and I was to drive right over with Drakeley and find out what had happened. So Drakeley and I jumped into the jeep — he’d put the car into the garage out of the rain, the jeep was standing out front all day and had got wet anyway, and we don’t have a truck any more — anyway, we came on over.”

“Was Drakeley working around the place all that time you and the rest of your family were in the house, Mrs. Scott?”

“Well... not all the time.”

“Oh, Drakeley wasn’t home for a while?” asked Ferriss Adams.

“No.” The twisting hands twisted faster.

“Where’d your son been, Mrs. Scott?”

“He... he’d had to go somewhere for his father.”

“I see. What time did Drakeley leave the house?”

“Well, he worked all morning... He left about half-past one.”

“In the family car?”

“Yes.”

“What time did he get back?”

“About a quarter of three. Talked to his father some, changed his clothes, then went on out back to work. I called him in when I heard the news about Aunt Fanny.”

“Where did Drakeley have to go, Mrs. Scott?”

Mathilda Scott looked stricken, and Johnny sat forward. Was this the break?

But guilt has many faces. There was nothing in Mathilda Scott’s story of her son’s actions Saturday that to the insensitive called for twisting hands and a public agony. It was a familiar story, Johnny felt sure, to everyone there with the possible exception of the Berrys. Drakeley had simply gone over to Comfort to try to borrow money from Henry Worthington, president of the Comfort bank. The bank being closed on Saturdays, Drakeley had made a two o’clock appointment to see Worthington at his Comfort home. The boy had dressed in his best clothes and driven off at one-thirty. He had come back at a quarter to three, empty-handed. That was all. But it was apparently enough to make Mathilda Scott act like a criminal.

Judge Shinn adjourned court until Wednesday morning.

“I don’t know what there is about this thing that interests me,” Johnny said that night in the Judge’s study, “unless it’s the puzzle in it. Like one of those jigsaws. You have to keep looking for the missing pieces.”

“You’ll find ’em all,” predicted Ferriss Adams comfortably. “And when you do, you’ll have the picture on the cover — our Polish friend.”

Andy Webster sucked on his cigar and glared at Adams. “I hear enough of you during the day, Adams,” he said querulously. “Shut up and let the boy speak.”

Adams grinned.

“Both of you shut up,” snapped Judge Shinn. “How do we stand as of close of business tonight, Johnny?”

“Well, statistically speaking, we’re moving along,” said Johnny. “Nine people testified today. But they add up to a lot more.

“At the opening of court this morning we had twenty-eight people in Shinn Corners to account for.

“At two-thirteen Saturday Peter Berry, Prue Plummer, Hube Hemus, Hosey Lemmon, and Calvin Waters were all in Berry’s store. That’s five eliminated. Five from twenty-eight leaves twenty-three.

“Rebecca Hemus: She, her daughter, and the troglodyte twins were all in the Hemus house at two-thirteen. I’ve questioned Tommy and Dave separately this evening, even took a whack at Abbie, who made eyes at me. They alibi one another. Four more out. Four from twenty-three leaves nineteen.

“Nineteen to go, and we have the Sheares in the parsonage study. They alibi each other. Leaving seventeen.

“Orville Pangman’s testimony: He, his son Eddie, and young Joel Hackett were fixing the Pangmans’ barn roof at the crucial moment. Eddie and Joel agree — I’ve talked to them, too. Three more out, leaving fourteen.

“Millie Pangman: She and little Debbie were in this house preparing to burn a meat pie—”

“Hold it,” said Usher Peague. “Unconfirmed.”

“Confirmed,” said Johnny.

“Now see here! I’ll buy most anything in this fairy tale, but I draw the line at time corroboration by a six-year-old, who wouldn’t know two-thirteen P.M. Saturday the fifth from the date the first flying saucer was sighted.”

Johnny smiled. “I was lucky. Elizabeth Sheare tells me she was working on her school board report at the one study window in the parsonage that overlooks Four Corners Road. From that window, she says, she had a clear view of the west corner of the intersection and of this house. She says she saw Millie and Deborah arrive, and she saw them leave, at about the times Mrs. Pangman testified to. And she says she’s sure that if Millie Pangman had left the house at any time during that period, she’d have noticed. So Millie gets her alibi sans benefit of little Missie Deborah. Two from fourteen leaves twelve.

“Mathilda Scott: She, her husband Earl, her father-in-law Seth Scott, Judy — all in the same room in the Scott house at two-thirteen Saturday. Confirmation through Judy, a very intelligent young lady. Four from twelve leaves eight.”

Judge Shinn was drumming on his desk. The sound made him stop and reach for his brandy.

“Go on,” he growled.