very religious,” and added, “we don’t have much money.”
Fee smiled, displaying small and crooked teeth that did not look white even in his swarthy face. “That is a misfortune that may be remedied, Mrs. Beggs, and one that I hope to remedy. You sell houses? Buildings?”
Todd said, “He wants to build a church, Mom.”
“I see. Yes, I do.” Joy took her favorite chair, the big wingback with the green and gold Chinese pheasants. “Won’t you sit down again, Archdeacon Fee? I’m sorry if I seemed a little brusque, but it’s been a long day.”
“Then I will not keep you. We have several postulants here in your town—you may be unaware of that, yet it is so. We wish to provide them with a suitable place of worship.”
“You need a building lot in a good location, with space for parking.” Mentally, Joy flipped pages in the big black register back at Peak Value.
Fee shook his head. “More, per’aps, than that. We cannot build at once for so few. For the present, we wish a house—a capacious residence. It should be near the site where we will build, so that the congregation may assist in the construction after services.”
“I see.”
“And it must not be too much in the town. A country place not far from the town, per’aps, or a home on its outskirts. You have told me that you are not inclined to religion, Mrs. Beggs. May I take it that you are not prejudiced against faiths other than the Christian?”
“Of course not,” Joy declared. “As a matter of fact, I’ve got quite a few Jewish friends.”
“Then I should inform you that we do not worship the God of your Jewish friends. He cares less even for us than for you.” Fee waited for her to object; when she did not, he continued, “A commission will, as I understand the matter, be paid your agency by the seller. You will share in that. In addition, we offer to pay a finder’s fee, directly to the individual who arranges the sale. To yourself, assuming you are that person.”
He paused again. Joy could feel him weighing her with his eyes, estimating her price.
He said, “We would pay you a finder’s fee of three thousand dollars.”
Joy smiled. “Isn’t it strange? I was showing a home that would be perfect for you just today.”
5
MARAUDERS
THE OLD doctor, Shields thought, had held some lofty ideas about art. His studio was long and by no means narrow, with six large windows. The brushes and the tubes of pigment were gone now; so were the easels and the artists—his daughters, presumably—who once had toiled before them, and perhaps received callers here. The paintings themselves were not.
Or at least there were a great many paintings and drawings in the room, and not a few photographs. Shields began to study them, and was still studying them when Roberts came in.
“Pretty various, aren’t they, Mr. Shields?” Clearly he had himself under control now.
Shields nodded. “At least I thought so at first.”
“Well, you look for yourself. Most see a castle—it’s what somebody’s told them they’re going to see, so they see it. Some see something more like a city—maybe it’s St. Louis, maybe some other place. And what some of ’em see, don’t even the Good Lord know. Look at that one there and tell me what it is—buildings, trees, or rocks?”
Shields said, “Suppose they’re all seeing something nobody has ever seen anyplace but here, a unique thing?”
Roberts was silent for a moment, stroking his jaw. “You do have some ideas, don’t you? Bet our winter sale’s going to be a whiz-bang.”
“I hope so.”
“What sort of thing would this be?”
“I don’t know,” Shields told him. “If I did, I’d be back at the dealership.”
“I guess so. Well, you saw it. What did you see?”
Shields shrugged. “I saw the castle of Castleview—let’s leave it at that. You’ve had a lot more time to look at these than I have, Bob. Have you come to any conclusions?”
“Only that people are seeing
Fee smiled, displaying small and crooked teeth that did not look white even in his swarthy face. “That is a misfortune that may be remedied, Mrs. Beggs, and one that I hope to remedy. You sell houses? Buildings?”
Todd said, “He wants to build a church, Mom.”
“I see. Yes, I do.” Joy took her favorite chair, the big wingback with the green and gold Chinese pheasants. “Won’t you sit down again, Archdeacon Fee? I’m sorry if I seemed a little brusque, but it’s been a long day.”
“Then I will not keep you. We have several postulants here in your town—you may be unaware of that, yet it is so. We wish to provide them with a suitable place of worship.”
“You need a building lot in a good location, with space for parking.” Mentally, Joy flipped pages in the big black register back at Peak Value.
Fee shook his head. “More, per’aps, than that. We cannot build at once for so few. For the present, we wish a house—a capacious residence. It should be near the site where we will build, so that the congregation may assist in the construction after services.”
“I see.”
“And it must not be too much in the town. A country place not far from the town, per’aps, or a home on its outskirts. You have told me that you are not inclined to religion, Mrs. Beggs. May I take it that you are not prejudiced against faiths other than the Christian?”
“Of course not,” Joy declared. “As a matter of fact, I’ve got quite a few Jewish friends.”
“Then I should inform you that we do not worship the God of your Jewish friends. He cares less even for us than for you.” Fee waited for her to object; when she did not, he continued, “A commission will, as I understand the matter, be paid your agency by the seller. You will share in that. In addition, we offer to pay a finder’s fee, directly to the individual who arranges the sale. To yourself, assuming you are that person.”
He paused again. Joy could feel him weighing her with his eyes, estimating her price.
He said, “We would pay you a finder’s fee of three thousand dollars.”
Joy smiled. “Isn’t it strange? I was showing a home that would be perfect for you just today.”
5
MARAUDERS
THE OLD doctor, Shields thought, had held some lofty ideas about art. His studio was long and by no means narrow, with six large windows. The brushes and the tubes of pigment were gone now; so were the easels and the artists—his daughters, presumably—who once had toiled before them, and perhaps received callers here. The paintings themselves were not.
Or at least there were a great many paintings and drawings in the room, and not a few photographs. Shields began to study them, and was still studying them when Roberts came in.
“Pretty various, aren’t they, Mr. Shields?” Clearly he had himself under control now.
Shields nodded. “At least I thought so at first.”
“Well, you look for yourself. Most see a castle—it’s what somebody’s told them they’re going to see, so they see it. Some see something more like a city—maybe it’s St. Louis, maybe some other place. And what some of ’em see, don’t even the Good Lord know. Look at that one there and tell me what it is—buildings, trees, or rocks?”
Shields said, “Suppose they’re all seeing something nobody has ever seen anyplace but here, a unique thing?”
Roberts was silent for a moment, stroking his jaw. “You do have some ideas, don’t you? Bet our winter sale’s going to be a whiz-bang.”
“I hope so.”
“What sort of thing would this be?”
“I don’t know,” Shields told him. “If I did, I’d be back at the dealership.”
“I guess so. Well, you saw it. What did you see?”
Shields shrugged. “I saw the castle of Castleview—let’s leave it at that. You’ve had a lot more time to look at these than I have, Bob. Have you come to any conclusions?”
“Only that people are seeing