Love for Sale by Jill Churchill Page A

performance went on and on, getting uglier by the minute. Finally he said, “Save the raving, Nobby, old boy.”
    Nobby Hazard ignored him and pitched his voice up a notch. As he did, he started speaking in tongues.
    Walker opened the door and steered the old man out into the hall. “Robert, would you put him back in his own room?”
    The voice continued to rant, echoing through the halls of Grace and Favor as Nobby was led away.
    Mr. Prinney came up from the main floor, alarmed. “What on earth...?“
    “Just a dotty old man who can’t face what’s probably the truth.“
    “You must get these people out of this house. This is an abomination to decent people,“ Mr. Prinney said, sounding a little like Nobby himself.
    Walker sighed. “I’ll try to get in touch with someone at Matteawan to take them away as soon as possible. May I use your phone? I doubt that anyone in authority is there today, but I’ll see what I can do.”
    His prediction was correct. He reached the assistant director of the Asylum for the Criminally Insane in Beacon, who said he’d have to get the permission of the director.
    “Give me his home telephone number, please,“ Walker said.
    “I can’t give that out,“ the assistant claimed. “You’re dealing with the police, sir. Give me the number.”
    The assistant caved in. “Oh, in that case...”
    The director, when reached, was reluctantly agreeable. “We’re awfully full up right now, Chief Walker. And we can only hold them for three days, maybe four, while they’re examined for both insanity and criminal intent or actions. How many do you have?“
    “Only two at the moment,“ Walker said, mentally excusing Edward Price as the most important witness to keep close at hand. “There will probably be a third by the end of the day. Have you the transportation to fetch them?“
    “The loony truck? Yes, but I’ll have to round up a driver and a guard. That will take me a goodhour or two. Give me the address where they’re to be picked up.”
    Walker smiled to himself. This seemed such a routine job to the man he was speaking to. Who would have thought? He gave the instructions for finding Grace and Favor.
    “Good. That’s quite close to us, fortunately.“ Mr. Prinney had been eavesdropping and was relieved.

    Lunch was way overdue, Walker realized because his stomach had started growling. As he went down the stairs to the main floor, Ralph Summer came to the front door.
    “You been looking for me, Chief?“
    “Where have you been?“ Walker growled.
    “It’s Sunday,“ Ralph said. “You told me I could take the day off to work on the house you owned down by the river, the one Jack and me bought from you. At least Ralph had had the good sense to change from his work clothes to his uniform.
    Jack was only moments behind his cousin Ralph. His hair had smudges of blue paint in it. “What’s going on, Howard?“
    “I wouldn’t tell a newspaper editor yet except that Ralph needs to know, and I know how bad he is at keeping his trap shut,“ Walker complained. “A group of men met here over the weekend to have a private meeting. Turns out it was part of the leadership of the Institute of Divine Intervention upstate. The leader, a man named Charles Pottinger, who called himself Brother Goodheart, was murdered here overnight.”
    As a reporter, Jack was delighted. He pulled out the small notebook he was never without and a stub of a pencil and wrote it down. “Found the murderer yet?“
    “No. But we’re holding the rest of the group until they can be confined at Matteawan, and we have one more from the Institute on the way here to put in with those to be questioned.“
    “Who would that be?“
    “The treasurer of the outfit—the fellow they were plotting to get rid of. Jack, you must keep this under your hat until I know more. The Newburg police have seized all their records and are taking them to Albany. It seems to have to do with money gone missing, possibly on several