Free Here Comes the Bribe by Mary Daheim Page A

house, Joe was in the kitchen with a red-faced Reverend Kindred. “I see no reason why I shouldn’t conduct my Saturday-evening prayer service here. It’s alwaysopen to all comers.” He pointed to a sheet of paper on the counter. “I’d only distribute my flyers to the immediate neighborhood. Now, will you allow me to use your copier or will I have to file freedom-of-religion and freedom-of-speech charges against you and Mrs. Flynn?”
    â€œFirst of all, I don’t think you’d get many takers right around here,” Joe countered. “The Rankerses, the Dooleys, and my wife and I are all Catholics. The Steins are Jewish, the Ericsons are Lutheran, the Porters and the Bhatts are Methodists, and the new people in the rental don’t seem to attend any church.”
    Kindred’s jaw jutted. “You see? Fresh ground with souls to save! I’ll personally call on them.” Clumsily, he whirled around and left the kitchen.
    Joe sighed. “Why did I think I could talk sense to a religious zealot?”
    Judith laughed. “Because you’re sensible?”
    Joe, however, was looking beyond his wife. “Can it,” he said under his breath. “Hi, Mrs. Kindred. Are you looking for your spouse? He just went out.”
    â€œOh,” Elsie replied without much interest. “No, I wanted to know if you people could help me find poor, dear Millie’s project information.”
    Joe turned to Judith. “Not my line of duty. I have to check on the MG’s progress at the repair shop.” He made his exit via the dining room.
    â€œWell?” Elsie asked, fists on hips. “Is there any chance you might’ve come across Millie’s valuable data?”
    â€œNo,” Judith answered. “I didn’t realize she had a project. What’s the purpose of it?”
    The other woman folded her hands as if in prayer. “A program aimed at women who are seeking salvation. Very personal in its approach. The eye is the beholder of all unworldy and worldly things.”
    â€œIt sounds . . . comprehensive,” Judith said for lack of anything more cogent. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what happened to Mrs. Schmuck’s project information. Did you ask Mr. Schmuck?”
    Elsie shook her head with its lank strands of graying auburn hair. “I don’t like bothering him in his time of sorrow. Clayton Ormsby told me that Rodney is being badgered by the police.”
    â€œI think he may be exaggerating. The police have to follow procedure,” Judith said in her most reasonable manner.
    â€œThe police!” Elsie exclaimed. “They’re all corrupt. But I refuse to bribe them. I have no patience with them after they . . . Never mind. I’ll only adhere to my conviction that all officers of the law are ungodly. They suspect the worst of even the most law-abiding, God-fearing people.”
    Judith feigned shock. “Surely you and Reverend Kindred have never been treated badly by the police.”
    â€œWell . . .” Elsie cleared her throat. “There was an incident about a year ago, but my dear husband was able to clear his name. It was all a silly mistake. There are some preachers who aren’t quite all they should be, you know. Then there are some like George, who is more than a man of the cloth.” She turned on her sensible heel and stalked self-righteously out of the kitchen.
    Judith snatched up the phone and called Renie. “What are you doing this afternoon?” she inquired.
    â€œI was working on this damned county design,” her cousin replied glumly. “How do I convey changes in recycling rules? Dare I show the current county executive being stuffed upside down into a blue bin instead of a black can?”
    â€œProbably not,” Judith said. “I wondered if you could come over and help me do some research.”
    â€œOh, no! I thought you weren’t