Free The Russian Hill Murders by Shirley Tallman

heaven.”
    This was met with scattered jeers and a few rude remarks, causing a raucous outbreak of laughter. Halsey’s lean, craggy face bore a look of frenzied ecstasy, and he seemed not to notice his audience’s mocking response.
    “I tell you that the wicked shall be turned into the fiery depths of hell. Repent before it is too late!”
    “Shut up, you crazy old coot!” a man’s voice yelled.
    Another man cried out, “I’d just as soon go to hell than to that heaven of yours. Sounds damned boring!”
    The crowd began to scatter amid giggles and little screams, as garbage from a nearby bin began flying at the minister. As I moved back out of the fray, I felt a hand on my arm, and found that Pierce had moved up behind me.
    “It’s that so-called minister who broke into Leonard and Caroline’s house,” he said tightly. “What the blazes is he doing here?”
    “At the moment, he seems to be inciting a riot.”
    Even as I said this, a rotten orange came flying by my head. Women screamed and tried to draw their children away from the fracas, while men flailed their fists, more or less indiscriminately, as far as I could see.
    Pierce took my arm and drew me away from the fight. As he did, I noticed Reverend Halsey slinking away from the brawl, Bible clutched tightly to his chest. A few moments later, a police wagon pulled up and several uniformed men jumped out and started to break up the fight. I looked around, but Revered Halsey was no longer in sight.
    “Just like the night Caroline died,” Pierce said with quiet fury. “He sowed his seeds of hatred and bigotry, then when they bore
fruit, he was gone. Someone should stop that bastard before he causes serious trouble.”
    I was surprised by this vulgarity, but I don’t think Pierce was even aware he’d used it. He continued to look down Mission Street where Halsey had vanished, his expression so malevolent I felt a chill go down my spine.
    My happy mood was shattered. “Perhaps we should leave,” I said, breaking in upon his thoughts.
    “No, that’s exactly what we mustn’t do. We’re not going to let that charlatan ruin our day.” He smiled and took my arm. “Shall we?”
    I returned his smile with some of my earlier enthusiasm. Pierce was right; if we left, Halsey would have won. “Why not?”
    Despite the poor beginning, the afternoon turned out to be perfect. Our first stop was the park’s splendid museum, where we spent a pleasant hour admiring the old masters, as well as laughing at some of the more avant-garde exhibits. After that we wandered about the grounds, feeding peanuts to the deer and bears, then taking a somewhat bumpy ride in a carriage pulled by two white goats.
    We spread a blanket on the grass to eat our picnic dinner and listened to a band performing on a flower-laden platform. I don’t think fried chicken, Saratoga chips and apple dumpling ever tasted as good as they did that lovely afternoon, especially washed down with ice-cold lemonade bought from a nearby stand.
    Remembering the rickety ride we’d endured earlier in the balloon car, Pierce hired a cab for the journey home. Sitting there in comfortable silence, I was surprised to realize I’d found the day thoroughly delightful.
    “A penny for your thoughts.” Pierce sat across from me, his long legs crossed at the ankles. In the light filtering through the carriage windows, I could see his mouth curved in an enigmatic smile.

    “What’s funny?” I asked, then was surprised when he said, “You didn’t expect to have a good time today, did you? No, don’t bother denying it. It was written all over your face when I picked you up at your house. In fact, if your mother hadn’t accepted the invitation for you, you would have found some excuse not to go.”
    This was so close to the truth, I felt color creep into my cheeks and was grateful the light in the carriage was poor.
    I made an effort to look affronted. “I don’t know why you’d say a thing like that.