The Phantom Friend A Judy Bolton Mystery
CHAPTER XVI
The Name on the Calendar
Flo was flushed and excited.
“Have you seen the papers?” was her first question. “The reviewers don’t think that was Francine Dow on Irene’s show. They say—”
“We saw it,” Pauline interrupted.
“But those were the very words Clarissa used. Is there any word from her?”
“Not yet. Perhaps there never will be. Peter says she could have slipped out of the theater with no intention of coming back. He’s in the hospital, Flo. I’m so upset!”
“What happened to him?” Flo was immediately all sympathetic concern.
Judy started to tell her and then thought better of it. Florence Garner was a stranger, too. Judy had met her only a few hours before she met Clarissa. “I shouldn’t trust strangers,” she told herself grimly. Aloud she said briefly, “He was hurt. He’s in the same hospital where they took that redheaded woman. She was asking for Irene. I don’t know why. We both thought she might be Clarissa—”
“But she wasn’t? Then who is she?”
“She doesn’t know,” replied Judy. “It’s all so confusing, I need a little peace and quiet to make any sense to what’s happening. We thought we’d go to church.”
Flo looked from one of them to the other.
“You’re not telling me everything,” she charged. “Something’s happened. Something terrible has happened, and you’re keeping it from me. Do you think dreams warn people of tragedy? I dreamed—It’s still so real I can hardly tell you about it. But I dreamed that my hair—” She touched her head and seemed relieved upon discovering she was wearing her hat. “Well, never mind about that now.”
“Clarissa hypnotized us. We’re all under her spell. Maybe church—”
Judy stopped Pauline before she could finish.
“Religion isn’t magic,” she said quietly. “It’s—something inside.”
Judy’s sudden sincerity seemed to confuse Flo.
“Well, I—I thought you were keeping something from me, but if you want me to go—”
“Of course we want you.” Pauline decided the question for her. “Shall we go?”
Judy found Pauline’s church even more formal than she had described it. The minister and the people in the choir wore black robes. Judy’s prayers were all for Peter and his work that had been so cruelly interrupted. Thoughts of what he must have suffered took possession of her mind and would not leave her.
“And so it is, my friends,” the minister was saying, “we love each other and think that is enough. But were we not commanded in the fifth book of Moses, ‘Love ye therefore the stranger; for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt.’”
Now Judy was more confused than ever. Clarissa was a stranger. Judy had followed her heart and loved her as a friend. But had she done the right thing? Was she a friend or a phantom? Should she have trusted her? What of the confidence game?
The words of the church service were printed on the calendar Judy had received at the door when the usher had handed her the hymnal. On the back, as she turned the calendar over in her hand during the long sermon, she noticed a list of names. Trustees of the church and the chairmen of various committees were listed. The names meant nothing to her until, all at once, she saw the name, _Clarence Lawson_! He was listed as chairman of the Ways and Means Committee. It seemed impossible. Could he, a man wanted by the FBI, be sitting quietly in the congregation? Peter had trailed him and lost him.
“Peter said it was public knowledge,” Judy thought. “But surely these people don’t know the name of a confidence man is printed on their church calendar!”
Pauline, sitting on her right, touched Judy’s elbow. She was the last one to stand up when the congregation rose to sing the closing hymn. Flo gave her a look that asked, wordlessly, “What’s the matter?” Pauline whispered something to Flo as they filed out of church, and Judy knew Pauline had told Flo that Peter had been shot.
“That’s the name of the man he was trailing.” Judy pointed to the name on the back of the calendar. “Do you know him?”
“Of course,” Pauline replied, puzzled. “Everybody in the church knows him. He’s conducting our building fund drive.”
“Is he here?” asked Judy.
Pauline looked around. “I don’t see him. That’s funny. He never misses a Sunday. His wife isn’t here either.”
“Is she an actress?”
“Heavens, no! She’s a typical clubwoman, if you know what I mean. They haven’t been here long, but already she’s at the head of everything. I don’t know where she is this morning.”
“She doesn’t—have red hair, does she?”
“What are you thinking, Judy? Her hair is gray. If you’re trying to identify that patient in the hospital you ought to ask Irene about her. They must know each other if she was asking for her. Maybe she’s an actress. Irene knows a lot of theatrical people. Authors are my specialty,” Pauline finished with a laugh.
“Ad men are mine. They would change the minister’s text around to make it read, ‘_Sell_ ye therefore the stranger,’ but that’s today’s world,” Flo said with a sigh. “Nobody cares much about the kind of love they tell you about in church.”
“I care about it,” Judy said.
Flo gave her an odd look. “You sound like Clarissa. She said she cared about the truth, but what happens? She disappears—with our money. I guess you just don’t know what anybody is these days.”
Pauline agreed. “The people in our church certainly don’t know who Clarence Lawson is. Why was Peter trailing him, Judy? Is he wanted by the FBI?”
“Yes, he is. It’s about some money for a church building fund. He was supposed to turn it over to the treasurer of the church, but he didn’t.”
“Didn’t he? Oh dear!” Pauline exclaimed. “We didn’t give much, because we weren’t very enthusiastic about the new building, but a lot of people did. It’s supposed to be a real community center when it’s finished. Mr. Lawson knew an architect who drew up the plans and made an estimate. There was talk of bringing in professional fund raisers before Mr. Lawson took over. He said there was no need to pay people to raise money among us if we’d give it freely without pledges. Then he passed a plate around, and people threw in big bills and checks made out to him as chairman of the Ways and Means Committee. He talked people into giving just the way Clarissa did. He was like her in a way. Even his name is a little like hers—Clarence, Clarissa—”
“That’s probably just a coincidence.” In spite of the evidence against her, Judy found herself defending Clarissa. “It’s the way I feel about her. I have no other reason,” she admitted. “You girls are probably right.”