"I canat recall. But Jenny believed in natural cures. She told me when she felt poorly shead meditate."

"Sounds like the two of you were pretty close," Marino said.

Mrs. Clary was plucking at her skirt, hands like hyperactive children. "Iam here all day except when I go to the store."

She glanced at her husband, who was staring at the TV again. "Now and then Iad go see her, you know, just being neighborly, maybe to drop by something Iad been cooking."

"Was she a friendly sort?" Marino asked. "She have a lot of visitors?"

"Well, you know she worked out of the house. I think she handled most of her business over the phone. But occasionally Iad see people going in."

"Anybody you knew?"

"Not that I recall."

"You notice anybody coming by to see her last night?" Marino asked.

"I didnat notice."

"What about when you went out to get your mail and saw the smoke coming out of her chimney? You get any sense she might have had company?"

"I didnat see a car. Nothing to make me think she had company."

Jimmy Clary had drifted off to sleep. He was drooling.

"You said she worked at home," I said. "Do you have any idea what she did?"

Mrs. Clary fixed wide eyes on me. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "I know what folks said."

"And what was that?" I asked.

She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

"Mrs. Clary," Marino said. "Anything you could tell us might help. I know you want to help."

"Thereas a Methodist church two blocks away. You can see it. The steepleas lit up at night, has been ever since they built the church three or four years ago."

"I saw the church when I was driving in," Marino replied. "Whatas that got to do -"

"Well," she cut in, "Jenny moved here, I guess it was early September. And Iave never been able to figure it out The steeple light. You watch when youare driving home. Of coursea" She paused, her face disappointed. "Maybe it wonat do it anymore."

"Do what?" Marino asked.

"Go out and then come back on. The strangest thing Iave ever seen. Itas lit up one minute, and then you look out your window again and itas dark like the church isnat there. Then next thing you know, you look out again and the steepleas lit up just like itas always been. Iave timed it. On for a minute, then off for two, on again for three. Sometimes it will burn for an hour. No pattern to it at all."

"What does this have to do with Jennifer Deighton?" I asked.

"I remember it was not long after she moved in, just weeks before Jimmy had hi stroke. It was a cool night so he was building a fire. I was in the kitchen doing dishes and could see the steeple out the window lit up like it always was. And he came in to get himself a drink, and I said, aYou know what the Bible says about being drunk with the Spirit and not with wine. aAnd he said, aIam not drinking wine. Iam drinking bourbon. The Bibleas never said a word about bourbon.a Then, right while he was standing there the steeple went dark. It was like the church vanished into thin air. I said, aThere you have it. The Word of the Lord. Thatas his opinion about you and your bourbon.a "He laughed like I was the craziest thing, but he never touched another drop. Every night head stand in front of the window over the kitchen sink watching. One minute the steeple would be lit up, then it would be dark. I let Jimmy think it was G.o.das doing - anything to keep him off the bottle. The church never behaved like that before Miss Deighton moved across the street."

"Has the light been going on and off lately?" I asked.

"Was still doing it last night. I donat know about now. To tell you the truth, I havenat looked."

"So youare saying that she somehow had an effect on the lights in the church steeple," Marino said mildly.

"Iam saying that more than one person on this street decided about her some time ago."

"Decided what?"

"About her being a witch," Mrs. Clary said.

Her husband had started snoring, making hideous strangling noises that his wee did not seem to notice.

"Sounds to me like your husband there started doing poorly about the time Miss Deighton moved here and the lights staffed acting funny," Marino said She looked startled: "Well, thatas so. He had his stroke the end of September."

"You ever think there might be a connection? That maybe Jennifer Deighton had something to do with it, just like youare thinking she had something to do with the church lights?"

"Jimmy didnat take to her." Mrs. Clary was talking faster by the minute.

"Youare saying the two of them didnat get along," Marino said.

"Right after she moved in, she came over a couple of times to ask him to help out with a few things around the house, manas work. I remember one time her doorbell was making a terrible buzzing sound inside the house and she appeared on the doorstep, scared she was about to have an electrical fire. So Jimmy went over there. I think her dishwasher flooded once, too, back then. Jimmyas always been real handy."

She glanced furtively at her snoring husband.

"You still havenat made it clear why he didnat get along with her," Marino reminded her.

"He said he didnat like going over there," she said. "Didnat like the inside of her house, with all these crystals everywhere. And the phone would ring all the time. But what really gave him the w.i.l.l.i.e.s was when she told him she read peopleas fortunes and would do it for him for nothing if head keep fixing things around her house. He said, and I remember this like it was yesterday, aNo, thank you, Miss Deighton. Myraas in charge of my future, plans every minute of it.a"

"I wonder if you might know of anybody who had a big enough problem with Jennifer Deighton to wish something bad on her, hurt her in some way," Marino said.

"You think somebody killed her?"

"Thereas a lot we donat know at this point. We have to check out every possibility."

She crossed her arms under her sagging bosom, hugging herself.

"What about her emotional state?" I inquired. "Did she ever seem depressed to you? Do you know if she had any problems she couldnat seem to cope with, especially of late?"

"I didnat know her that well." She avoided my eyes.

"Did she go to any doctors that youare aware of?"

"I donat know."

"What about next of kin? Did she have family?"

"I have no idea."

"What about her phone?" I then said. "Did she answer it when she was home or did she always let the machine do it?"

"Itas been my experience that when she was home, she answered it."

"Which is why you got worried about her earlier today when she wasnat answering the phone when you called," Marino said.

"Thatas exactly why." Myra Clary realized too late what she had said.

"Thatas interesting," Marino commented.

A Bush crept up her neck and her hands went still.

Marino asked, "How did you know she was home today?"

She did not answer. Her husbandas breath rattled in his chest and he coughed, eyes blinking open.

"I guess I a.s.sumed. Because I didnat see her pull out. In her cara" Mrs. Claryas voice trailed off.

"Maybe you went over there earlier in the day?"

Marino offered, as if trying to be helpful. "To deliver your cake or say h.e.l.lo and thought her car was in the garage?"

She dabbed tears from her eyes. "I was in the kitchen baking all morning and never saw her go out to get the paper or leave in her car. So mid-morning, when I went out, I went over there and rang the bell. She didnat answer. I peeked inside the garage."

"You telling me you saw the windows all smoked up and didnat think something was wrong?" Marino asked.

"I didnat know what it meant, what to do."

Her voice went up several octaves. "Lord, Lord. I wish Iad called somebody then. Maybe she was -" Marino cut in. "I donat know that she was still alive then, that she would have been" He looked pointedly at me.

"When you looked inside the garage, did you hear the car engine running?" I asked Mrs. Clary.

She shook her head and blew her nose.

Marino got up and tucked his notepad back in his coat pocket. He looked dejected, as if Mrs. Claryas spinelessness and lack of veracity deeply disappointed him. By now, there wasnat a role he played that I did not know well.

"I should have called earlier." Myra Clary directed this at me, her voice quavering.

I did not reply. Marino stared at the carpet.

"I donat feel good. I need to go lie down."

Marino slipped a business card out of his wallet and handed it to her. "Anything else comes to mind that you think I ought to know about, you give me a call."

"Yes, sir," she said weakly. "I promise I will."

"You doing the post tonight?" Marino asked me after the front door shut.

Snow was ankle-deep and still coming down.

"In the morning," I said, fishing keys out of my coat pocket.

"What do you think?"

"I think her unusual occupation put her at great risk for the wrong sort of person to come along. I also think her apparent isolated existence, as Mrs. Clary described it, and the fact that it appears she opened her Christmas presents early makes suicide an easy a.s.sumption. But her clean socks are a major problem."

"You got that right," he said.

Jennifer Deightonas house was lit up, and a flatbed truck with chains on its tires had backed into the drive way. Voices of men working were muted by the snow, and every car on the street was solid white and soft around the edges.

I followed Marinoas gaze above the roof of Miss Deightonas house. Several blocks away, the church was etched against the pearl gray sky, me steeple shaped weirdly like a witchas hat. Arches in the arcade stared back at us with mournful, empty eyes when suddenly the light blinked on. It filled s.p.a.ces and painted surfaces a luminescent ocher, the arcade an unsmiling but gentle face floating in the night.

I glanced over at the Clary house as curtains moved in the kitchen window.

"Jesus, Iam out of here." Marino headed across the street.

"You want me to alert Neils about her car?" I called after him.

"Yeah," he yelled back. "Thatad be good."

My house was lit up when I got home and good smells came from the kitchen. A fire blazed and two places had been set on the butleras table in front of it. Dropping my medical bag on the couch, I looked around and listened. From my study across the hall came the faint, rapid clicking of keys.

"Lucy?" I called out, slipping off my gloves and unb.u.t.toning my coat.

"Iam in here."

Keys continued to click.

"What have you been cooking?"

"Dinner."

I headed for my study, where I found my niece sitting at my desk staring intensely at the computer monitor. I was stunned when I noticed the pound sign prompt. She was in UNIX. Somehow she had dialed into the computer downtown.

"How did you do that?" I asked. "I didnat tell you the dial-in command, user name, pa.s.sword, or anything."

aYou didnat have to tell me. I found the file that told me what the bat command is. Plus, youave got some programs in here with your user name and pa.s.sword coded in so you donat get prompted for them. A good shortcut but risky. Your user name is Marley and pa.s.sword is brain."

"Youare dangerous." I pulled up a chair.

"Whoas Marley?"

She continued to type.

"We had a.s.signed seating in medical school. Marley Scates sat next to me in labs for two years. Heas a neurosurgeon somewhere."

"Were you in love with him?"

"We never dated."