I saw ... some worldly miser with a surveyor looking after

his bounds, while heaven had taken place around him,

and he did not see the angels going to and fro, but was

looking for an old post-hole in the midst of paradise...

1 saw that the Prince of Darkness was his surveyor. a""Walking"

Archie Pouch was back on the line. "Ten days, Grandison. You've got ten days to take Lot Seventeen off my client's hands. Or else."

"Or else what?" said Jefferson Grandison.

"Or else you'll find it on your doorstep."

"Are you threatening me? May I remind you, sir, that I, too, have legal representation? Intimidating threats are, I believe, a felony in the state of Ma.s.sachusetts."

"Legal representation? You've got legal representation? You call that stuffed shirt legal representation?" There was a loud guffaw from Archie Pouch's end of the line, and he hung up.

Grandison looked sourly at Jack Markey, and Jack laughed. "Is that true? Are threats really a felony?"

"I have no idea," said Grandison loftily.

They spent the next hour spreading maps on the table, pulling out drawers to find other maps, leaning over them to study specific areas in greater detail, buzzing Martha Jones in the outer office to find certain files and bring them in at once.

What they needed was a temporary holding facility for Lot Seventeen. At last they a.s.sembled a reasonable list of possibilities, and Grandison sat down and grasped the phone.

Jack collapsed onto a chair, closed his eyes, and listened, his head drooping on his chest, his face relaxing into dejection.

Call after call failed in its object.

"Totally impossible," said the town manager in Maiden.

"Good G.o.d, think of the ab.u.t.tors," said the town counsel of Stow.

"That parcel is in full view of the town green," said the Nashoba town planner.

"You must be kidding," said the mayor of Lawrence.

At last Grandison put down the phone and turned to Jack, who had apparently fallen asleep.

Actually Jack was wide awake. He had heard every word. He had heard other words as well: "And when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of G.o.d. And they cried with a loud voice, saying, How long, O Lord, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth?"

"Jack?"

Jack sprang out of his chair and gave a jocular salute. "Sir?"

"It's still in your hands, I'm afraid. Can't you hurry it up a little?"

Then Jack began talking about money. "I hope, Mr. Grandison, you're not forgetting what you owe to me personally? I understood I was to receive a percentage of the profits, which were, I believe, turned over to you some months ago?"

Grandison sighed and turned on Jack the look of one with the weight of the world on his shoulders. They d.i.c.kered and agreed at last on a figure. But then Grandison craftily added a piece of extortion. "That sum is, however, to be shared with the others."

"The others! Well, how much, for s.h.i.t's sake?"

"I leave that entirely to you and Ms. Pink. Please do not swear on these premises."

"Christ."

Then Jack had to call Mimi and make some sort of bargain. It was not pleasant. She was a fierce negotiator. They haggled. Jack shouted. Mimi threatened. Jack capitulated. "Well, all right," he said in a steaming rage. "I'll bring it out on Wednesday afternoon. Where will I find you?"

"In the Porcelain Parlor. I'm always there on Wednesday afternoons."

*53*

What is it to be born free and not to live free? a""Life Without Principle"

Sarah Peel's people were back on the streets of Concord. Homer found them a bail bondsman, and they popped out of jail and trailed up Walden Street to the center of town and settled down again in nooks and corners.

As usual Palmer Nifto landed on his feet. Blithely he walked into the theater at 51 Walden, where the Concord Players were casting The Madwoman of Chaillot, and tried out impulsively for one of the princ.i.p.al parts.

"You're marvelous," cried the casting director. "Will you be our leading man?"

"Why, sure," said Palmer cheerfully. "Hey, listen, I don't suppose any of you people would let me stay with you? See, I live in Worcester, and it's kind of hard to get here for rehearsals."

In a trice Palmer had three offers, and in no time he was installed in a charming bedroom belonging to the Whipples, an old Concord family. At once he sneaked Audrey into the house to share his room. Audrey lay low.

In the meantime Roger and Marjorie Bland struggled to recover from the vandalism to their house. It wasn't as hard for Roger as it was for Marjorie. Roger had not yet discovered Palmer Nifto's interference with his computerized financial affairs, and therefore, being naturally of a phlegmatic disposition, he took the whole thing in stride.

But Marjorie couldn't get out of her head her first glimpse of her lovely living room with the sofa slashed and the goose down floating in the air and all those awful faces staring back at her. One of the women had been wearing Marjorie's mink coat, even though the temperature was in the nineties.

Roger had bravely taken charge. He had marched solemnly to the telephone and called the police. Some of the interlopers leaked out of the house before the cruiser arrived, but they were soon picked up.

It was left to Marjorie to repair the damage. First she summoned a team of housecleaners, then she sent the sofa out to be reupholstered and the dining room table to be refinished. She junked the CD player and the washing machine, replaced them, paid the horrendous telephone bill, hired a carpenter to repair the liquor cabinet, replenished its contents, and refilled the freezer.

"Of course it's the spiritual damage that's the worst," said Marjorie to Jo-Jo Field. "We felt"a"she paused dramaticallya""raped."

"Oh, Marjorie dear, how dreadful. You've been so brave." There was still the problem of the horse. Marjorie called the vet and asked him to give Carmencita a good once-over. When he came, she sat down with him and called a spade a spade. "It's a wonder no one was hurt. She's been so aggressive lately. She does her best to bite me whenever I come near. Roger and I have been thinking"a"Marjorie looked at the vet soberlya""of having her put to sleep."

"Well, she's an old girl," said the vet sympathetically. "Sometimes they turn nasty. Let me know when you make up your mind.

*54*

GO BACK THREE s.p.a.cES.

a"Chance card, Monopoly

The telephone was like a part of Bonnie Glover's body. She tucked it between ear and shoulder and chattered away, doing her nails at the same time or leaning over a mirror to stroke mascara on each individual eyelash. She had begun the telephone habit in junior high school, when she and all her friends had discovered this way of being perpetually together.

Today she was doing something forbidden. She brought the phone out to the counter in the Porcelain Parlor and called Ananda Singh.

"What's it really, really like, living with the Frys?" Bonnie wanted to know.

"What is it like?" Ananda was puzzled. "Oh, it is very nice. It is a good house. Very comfortable."

"But how abouta"you know, I mean Mr. Fry has a drinking problem. It must be kind of, you know, pretty gross sometimes, just really incredible?"

"Oh, but that is calumny."

"Calumny, what's that?" Bonnie laughed. "Oh, Ananda, you're so intellectual. My girlfriend said to me, 'Isn't he just so incredibly intellectual?' And I'm like, 'G.o.d, you should see him sometimes.' " Bonnie's chuckle was sultry.

"But I am an eyewitness. Mr. Fry is nota"I a.s.sure you, it is not so."

"Listen, there's another eyewitness, his own daughter, Hope, that darling friend of yours. She told Jack Markey, you know Jack Markey? She told him her father drinks a quart of whiskey every day, I mean it's all over town."

Ananda was stunned. For a moment he had nothing to say.

Bonnie went on babbling. When a customer came into the shop Bonnie turned her back and hugged the phone tighter to her shoulder. "His own daughter, how do you like that?"

The customer stared at Bonnie's back. "I wonder if I could interrupt you?" she said in a frosty voice.

Bonnie turned farther away, crouching lower over the phone. She was alone in the universe with Ananda Singh. Behind her back she heard the customer leave the shop. The gla.s.s door sighed as it puffed open and slowly swung closed. "You don't believe me? It's the truth, honest to G.o.d."

Once again the door puffed open, and there was a sharp clack of heels across the floor. Bonnie turned to behold her boss, Mimi Pink.

"Puta"downa"thata"phone," said Mimi.

"Oh, sorry, I gotta go," said Bonnie, pushing the hangup b.u.t.ton.

Mimi's voice was edged with ice. "I have just met Mrs. Alexander Whittier on the sidewalk. She told me she drove all the way from Ipswich this morning in order to purchase the signature Lladro golden eagle for her husband's birthday. It happens to be the most valuable piece of porcelain in the shop. She told me she was not able to get your attention."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I had this fabulously important phone call."

"Youa"area"fired."

Bonnie left in tears, and Mimi took over. She polished the gla.s.s counter. She wiped a speck off a porcelain madonna. She rearranged the golden eagle on its pedestal. Business in the Porcelain Parlor was slack.

Then suddenly there was another crisis. Mimi's a.s.sistant in the Den of Teddies came running in to report that a giant stuffed bear had been stolen by one of the homeless people.

"How could such a thing possibly happen?" said Mimi, scandalized.

"I don't know," sobbed the a.s.sistant. "One moment they were there, the mother and daughter, you know, and the next they were gone. By the time I noticed the big bear was missing, they were nowhere in sight on the street."

Mimi was outraged. Once more she called the police, but she knew it wouldn't do any good, and it didn't. Then later in the afternoon business picked up.

The afternoon was always the best time. Customers from other towns never shopped in the morning, they came after lunch. Today it was a handsome older couple from Coha.s.set. First they fell in love with the porcelain ballerina. Then they got excited about the golden eagle.

Marjorie Bland came into the shop, too, looking for a wedding present. She was in no hurry. She stood at the counter gossiping with Mimi about the homeless problem. Mimi told her about the theft of the teddy bear. Marjorie told Mimi about the vandalism to her house.

"And you won't believe this, but that crazy old lady keeps coming back. I think she's in love with my horse."

"Can't you have her arrested?"

"Oh, well, the problem won't be with us much longer. The vet's coming over Thursday night. We're putting the horse to sleep."