Free City of Brass by Edward D. Hoch Page B

was trying to show me.
    In the palm of each hand was a dark area, like a wound yet somehow different. I’d never seen anything like it before. “What is it?” I asked.
    “Stigmata. The wounds of Christ.”
    “What?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard her clearly.
    “Mrs. Baine carries the wounds of the crucified Christ on her body. On her hands, her feet, and her side. In addition, she subsists solely on Communion given her each morning by Father Fox. She has eaten nothing in over five years.”
    I let out my breath in a low sigh. “That’s fantastic.”
    “Nevertheless, it’s true. Foster Baine’s mother is a living saint.”
    “And you keep her here like this, locked up in this room?”
    “There’s no room in Baine City for a saint, especially when she happens to be Foster Baine’s mother.”
    “You’re Catholics?”
    She shook her head. “No, but Mrs. Baine was—is.”
    “And this Father Fox—what does he say about all this?”
    “Nothing. He comes, every morning, to give her Holy Communion, but he never talks about it. I get the impression he doesn’t believe his own eyes.”
    “What do the doctors say?”
    “Only her family doctor has seen her since it started. He’s at a loss for any normal explanation. And Professor Wilber, of course.”
    I’d forgotten about Wilber. “What’s his connection?”
    She closed the blinds again, leaving us with only the fireplace glow. “He’s investigating it. He has been out here and carried on several experiments.”
    I had to admit I could see no connection between this sainted woman and Cathy Clark. But why would Henry Mahon have thought this shocking? Odd, curious, fantastic—yes. But shocking? There was still something—many things—I didn’t understand.
    The old woman stirred again in her chair. Her eyes opened and focused on me. “Are you a friend?” she asked.
    “Yes.”
    “They keep me here. I am alone with my God.”
    “Are you a prisoner?” I asked, and caught a sharp look from Betty.
    “A prisoner, yes. I must go out, into the world, to spread the word of God. She waved her hands with their ghastly wounds.
    “Come,” Betty said, urging me out. “We must leave now. She’s getting excited.”
    There was nothing more I could do. But I knew that Simon Ark would be most interested in this strange woman with the wounds of Christ on her body. I followed Betty out of the room, and we drove back to Baine City in tight-lipped concentration. Very possibly Betty was beginning to regret her action in showing off the family secret …
    Surprisingly enough, Simon Ark was sitting in my hotel room, staring at the city. He turned as I entered and smiled a greeting. “My friend, the pieces of the puzzle are now complete.”
    “That’s what you think, Simon. I’ve got a whole new bag of puzzles—enough to baffle even you.”
    “Oh?”
    “Did you learn anything about Professor Wilber?”
    He nodded. “I learned the nature of his experiments.”
    “So did I.”
    This seemed to surprise him. “About the animals?”
    “Animals? No, this is something else.” And I quickly told him about my visit to the country house of Mrs. Baine.
    When I’d finished I saw that he was profoundly moved by the events I’d narrated. “You actually saw the markings on her hands?” he asked. “There was no trickery with the lighting?”
    “They were there,” I insisted. “What point would they have in faking it? No one ever sees her.”
    “Stigmata is rare, almost unheard of in this country,” he mused. “And yet—perhaps …”
    “What about the animals, Simon? What did you learn?”
    “That can wait,” he said. “We have much to do before morning.”
    “I’m tired.”
    “There will be time to rest later. Right now—we may still be in time to prevent another murder …”
    Then we were in Professor Kane Wilber’s laboratory once again, with the afternoon sunlight filtering through high windows. He’d been surprised to see us again, and now he was