Punish the Sinners Read Online Free PDF Page B

Neilsville, you know.”
    “But not entirely,” Peter said. “I understand there’s a public school as well as St Francis Xavier’s. And I think I noticed a few other churches, too.”
    The woman behind the counter looked him up and down, and Peter felt her gaze taking in his curly brown hair. Apparently she didn’t approve of that, either. “There’s room enough in Neilsville for everyone. If they behave themselves.” Her tone said she didn’t think Peter would.
    “That’s strange,” he said. “Someone else said thesame thing to me earlier today. A woman named Leona Anderson.”
    “Leona’s a very wise woman.”
    “I’m sure she is,” Peter agreed dryly. She had also struck him as a very unpleasant woman, who had made her distaste for him plain, from the look in her eye as she introduced herself to the moment she delivered him to his apartment. “When will the phone be put in?”
    ‘Tour days,” the woman said without consulting a calendar. “That’s how long it takes to process the order.”
    Since there seemed to be no room for argument, Peter thanked the woman for her services and left the office. She watched him go. When he was out of sight she picked up the telephone on her desk and quickly dialed a number.
    “Leona? That man Balsam you told me about. He was just here, ordering a phone. I think you’re right, and you’d better talk to Monsignor. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something wrong about that young man. If you ask me, trouble just came to Neilsville.”

3
    Four days Iato: Peter Balsam was beginning to feel a little easier about Neilsville. He had created a space for himself: his books were neatly arranged on the brcks and boards that nearly covered one wall, and he had spent more than he had intended cm the plants that now hung from hooks in the ceiling and brackets on the walls. And, of course, there was the telephone. He stared at the green instrument on his desk, and wondered why the installation of the phone that morning had made him feel “connected.” It wasn’t as if he had anyone to call, nor was there much likelihood that anyone would call him. And then, surprisingly, the telephone rang. He stared at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, then picked it up and spoke a tentative hello, ready for whoever had called to discover he had dialed a wrong number and hang up.
    “Peter Balsam?” A woman’s voice, vaguely familiar, somewhat shy.
    “Yes,” Peter answered, wondering if he should recognize the voice.
    “It’s Margo Henderson,” the woman continued. “From the train?” Balsam felt a surge of pleasure run through his body.
    “Hello,” he said again, this time with warmth.
    “That’s better,” Margo said. “For a minute I thought you didn’t remember who I was.”
    “I didn’t,” Balsam admitted. “Actually, I thought it was going to be a wrong number. I just had the phone put in this morning. It usually takes a few days before anybody can get the number.”
    “Not in Neilsville.” Margo laughed. “You’re the most interesting thing to happen in years.” She paused for a second, and Peter was about to respond when she plunged ahead. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to take me out for dinner tonight,” she said.
    Peter was momentarily nonplussed, then recovered himself.
    “I’d love to,” he said. “But I have a problem. No car.”
    “That’s no problem. I happen to have a very serviceable Chevy. If you’re not too proud to allow yourself to be picked up by a woman, I’ll see you about seven-thirty.”
    “Well, fine,” Peter said, not really sure if it was fine or not, but willing to give it a chance. “Do you know where I live?”
    “Let me see if I can figure it out,” Margo replied. “H you don’t have a car, you must be within walking distance of St. Francis Xavier’s. So you must live in that new apartment building on Third Street, just off Mam.”
    “A regular Sherlock Holmes,” Peter said.
    Margo chuckled.