At ten after eight Bell reappeared, apologized again, said the meeting had been delayed another twenty minutes, and suggested that the townspeople adjourn to the sidewalk.

“You all are starting to parboil,” he said. Then he looked out into the crowd, searching the faces, and stopped when he got to mine.

“The artist fellow back there? Mr. Kidd? Could you come down here and talk to me for a minute? And Miz Atkins? Could you come down here, too?”

A buzz went through the crowd, and I thought about walking out the back, down to the boat, and leaving for St. Paul. I could dump the car in the used-car lot where I’d rented it, with a couple of hundred bucks under the seat

But there was no way out, with everybody watching. Marvel had walked down as soon as Bell called her name, and I picked my way down the center aisle, trying to look puzzled.

“Come down this way,” Bell said to me. He let Marvel go first, and I tagged along behind, until we were in the hall, and then he led the way to the council offices. Ballem was there, looking frightened. Hill was with him, wild with rage but holding it in. St. Thomas was standing down the hall with Rebeck. The chief of police was there, with four or five men I didn’t recognize.

“Motherfucker,” Hill said, standing up when Marvel and I came in. “What’re you and this bitch up to?”

“You watch your mouth, Duane,” Bell said. His voice was like a knife, and I suddenly understood why Bell had done so well in the big-time farming business. He was not a man to fool with.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” I said to everybody in general. “What in the hell am I doing here?”

We were in the narrow hallway outside the tiny council offices, the only place there was enough space for us all.

“Duane, here, says you and Miz Atkins are involved in some kind of conspiracy to drag the city down,” Bell said. “He said all the weird happenings here the last few days are because of you.”

“Duane’s a fruitcake,” I said. Hill started up, and I braced my feet, but Bell put his hand on Hill’s shoulder and shoved him back down. “The first time I ever saw him was on the day I came to town. He came up and hassled me on old Mrs. Trent’s yard, where I was painting. Mrs. Trent came out and ran him off - says she knew him from the days he used to shoplift out of her stores-“

“I never,” Hill said.