The Diviners
“The Good Citizen,” Evie read. “What’s that?”
“It is a monthly publication of the Pillar of Fire Church,” Will said. “It’s also a strong endorsement of the Ku Klux Klan.”
“You think the Klan might have killed that boy?”
“It’s possible. Of course, it’s also possible it was on the scene before the murder. However, it’s worth nothing that Tommy Duffy was Irish. Ruta Badowski was Polish. The killer could harbor a hatred of foreigners.”
“He could be anti-Catholic,” Jericho said.
“They don’t need much reason,” Sam grumbled.
There were men back in Zenith who were Klansmen, Evie knew. People like Harold Brodie’s father supported them. But Evie’s father and mother had been Catholic once. The Irish O’Neills. And her father had repeatedly railed against the Klan and the thuggish bigotry for which they stood.
“When do we leave?” Evie asked.
“Leave for what, doll?” Sam said.
“We are going to this Pillar of Fire Church to sniff around, aren’t we?”
“I can’t,” Will said. “I once helped bring charges against the Grand Dragon of the Klan out there. I’m known to them.”
“What about Detective Malloy?” Jericho asked.
Will let out a long sigh. “He sent some men out this morning, but I understand that they were stonewalled. Alma Bridwell White, the bishop of Pillar of Fire, threatens a lawsuit anytime someone breathes a word against her church.”
Evie sat up. “What if Jericho and I posed as newlyweds interested in joining the church? Then we could snoop around and see what we could find.”
Jericho looked up. “You… and me?”
“I can handle myself just fine, thanks.”
“I can drive,” Evie said.
“Evie can drive,” Jericho said. There was challenge in his stare.
“Fine. We’ll all go,” Sam said. “But if I get us a car, I get the wheel.”
“As you wish,” Will said. “Evie, may I see you for a moment in my study, please?”
“No one ever lets me drive. I’m a fine driver,” Evie grumbled as she followed Will into the study. He retrieved a silver flask from a desk drawer and took a belt from it. “So you do have hooch,” Evie said.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you; this is Phillips’ Milk of Magnesia. My stomach is unsettled—not surprisingly, after what I witnessed this morning. You needn’t sit. I shall be brief. Evangeline, I am not your mother, but that doesn’t mean I have no standards of behavior. Coming home intoxicated at all hours will no longer be tolerated.” Will looked directly at her. It occurred to Evie that she had never been looked at with such scrutiny before.
“But Unc—”
Will held up a hand to stop her protest before it could gather steam. “I might remind you that the trains travel in both directions between New York and Ohio, Evangeline. Is that understood?”
Evie swallowed hard. “I’m on the trolley.”
“I don’t mind if you enjoy what New York has to offer, but I do think you should be smart and safe. After all, there is a killer loose in our city.”
Evie suddenly remembered the page she’d marked to show Will the previous day. “Applesauce! I meant to tell you—I think I found our symbol in a book in the library. Something about a religious order—the Brothers, the Brotherhood… oh, what was it?”
Back in the library, Evie searched the stacks, making a mess of Jericho’s careful work as he moved behind her, righting things.
“Here it is!” Evie raced down the spiral staircase. “Religious Fervor and Fanaticism in the Burned-Over District. The book is pos-i-tute-ly a cure for insomnia, but it does have this.” She opened to the page with the drawing of the pentacle-and-snake emblem. “The Brethren! That’s it! Do you know what this is?”
“No, but I know someone who might: Dr. Georg Poblocki at Columbia University. He’s a professor of religion, and an old friend. I’ll telephone him right away,” Will said, walking briskly from the library.
Jericho cleared his throat. “Would you like to take first shift, or shall I?” he asked, as if at any moment they’d be flooded with visitors.