I didn’t believe him at the time, but now I think it is possible he was telling the truth. Maybe knowledge of Margaret Dorn was restricted to those times when he was possessed by the General. That he had been possessed I no longer doubted.

We reached our drive, and the hearse pulled up and stopped in front of the barn. There was a stake truck already parked there, with picks and shovels in it. Getting out of the hired limousine behind us were Father Fogarty and Mrs. Guenther.

“That’s a lot of bloody nerve,” I told Duff.

“What difference does it make, Mother? We’re paying for the car anyway.”

The pallbearers carried Jack into the graveyard, where the gravediggers began attaching ropes to the handles. There were none of the trappings I had seen at other burials—no canopy, no green carpet to hide the grave and the mound of earth.

Father Jackson glanced questioningly at Father Fogarty, and the old priest waved him on. Then Jackson took a stole from his pocket, put it on, opened his prayer book and began to drone some prayers. When he was finished, he took a fountain-­pen-­like device from his breast pocket and sprinkled the casket with what I assumed was holy water.

Then he led us all in the Lord’s Prayer and stepped back, assuming that the ceremony was over. It wasn’t. Father Fogarty decided that Jack’s soul needed more attention. He took the holy water sprinkler and gave the casket a liberal dousing.

“Dear Lord,” he intoned, “we ask you to protect the departed, John Caine, from all evil spirits and take him with you into heaven.”

Then he walked around the graveyard, sprinkling holy water everywhere and ordering Christ and the Blessed Virgin to get rid of any diabolical things that might be inhabiting the place. Finally he came back and emptied the sprinkler in Jack’s grave.

“Whoever or whatever was in here before or may be in here now, I say to thee leave the soul of this man alone. Let it go on its way to paradise and eternal happiness.”

That moved me. It really did. Jack had never really been very happy during his life and a lot of it was my fault. Father Fogarty came up to me then and took my hand. I guess it pleased him to see me weeping.

I blotted my eyes with my handkerchief, and then something compelled me to turn around. Mrs. Reddy and Mrs. Weber were standing by the graveyard gate.

24

Chapter Twenty-­Four

They were both dressed in black, with black veils, as I had seen them the night Stephanie’s body was found. They were watching me, I thought, although I couldn’t be sure because of the veils. They didn’t approach or make any gesture at all, just stood there.