“Maybe the twin was like that. ’Cause he just got up from the table and started making a building with Legos. He’s got two cute ones—boy and a girl. Twins just like he is. He’s actually a triplet, can you believe that? I wouldn’t have minded Liz having twins. But I think three would have been too much for me.”

Marge asked, “So the priest wasn’t angry at his father?”

“Not to my eye. Just ate his dessert and played magic tricks with his nieces and nephews.”

“How about Dr. Sparks? Was he angry with his son?”

“He didn’t appear pissed. He ate his dessert, too. It was pie. She’d baked like a hunnerd pies. I had two pieces—blueberry and peach. Man, that woman could cook. I told my wife afterward that I’d put on a tie any old day of the week, if they want to have us again.”

“What did your wife say about that?”

“She patted my head, said not to count on another invite for a while. Not because I blew it or anything. Just that Dr. Sparks doesn’t invite people to his house a lot.”

“Especially if there was tension in the family,” Marge added.

“I wouldn’t say tension. But they did have an argument.”

“Drew, maybe it was just an intellectual discussion instead of an argument,” Marge said.

“Ma’am, I don’t know too much about intellectual discussions,” Drew said. “But I do know a whole lot about arguments. Take my word for it. It was an argument.”

9

“Berger’s here, Loo. At New Chris.” Webster checked his watch. “Arrived ’bout ten minutes ago. He said that he and his wife went to a dinner theater in Tustin—”

“Tustin?” Decker interrupted.

“Yeah, a little off the beaten path.”

“I’ll say.” Decker spoke into the Volare’s mike, turned down the fan to the heater so he could hear Webster over the radio receiver. “It’s about a two-hour drive from New Chris.”

“Anyway, Berger said he and the wife saw My Fair Lady, had no idea what was roaring until he heard it on the radio. If he’s to be b’lieved.”

“You have reason to doubt him, Tom?”

“Nope. He came straight to New Chris from the theater. Wife dropped him off directly, didn’t even change. And he did come in wearing a suit and tie. Croc Ballys on the feet. The kind y’all wear only when you’re goin’ out.”

“Where is he now?”

“In a private meeting.”

“So you haven’t really interviewed him.”

“Not yet. He’s holed up with a bunch of ’em, consulting with one n’other—Dr. Berger, Dr. Fulton, Dr. Decameron. Now there’s a piece of work.”

“In what way?”

“Ya haven’t met him yet?”

“I haven’t. I heard he’s opinioned and open about his gayness.”