Constable Molly Smith 01 - In the Shadow of the Glacier

cable news channel, sent one of their most incendiary so-called journalists to town. They ran a piece earlier, totally one-sided. It said, if I remember correctly, that people opposed to the park need help.”
    Winters blew out his cheeks. “They might have found it. You saw this show, Molly?”
    “My mom taped it. It makes her look bad.”
    “Let’s go.”
    “Where?”
    “To your house. I want to see this program.”
    As they walked across the lawn, a man stepped out from behind the cruiser. The end of his cigarette glowed in the dark. “I’m thinking that this isn’t a juvenile prank getting out of control,” the Chief Constable said.
    “It might be,” Winters replied. “That sort of thing happens. But tonight? The day after the Montgomery murder? Have you seen the CNC program, Paul?”
    “What program? I went to the movies with my wife. Some fool thing with women in long dresses and men bowing and scraping to everyone in sight.”
    “Perhaps you should come with us. Molly’s about to give me a private showing. Will there be popcorn, Constable?”
    She didn’t bother to reply.
    The CC tossed his keys to Solway. She caught them in one hand, and looked pleased with herself. “Have someone take my car home,” he said.
    ***
    “Hard to imagine it could be much worse,” Paul Keller said.
    “Come to Trafalgar and help us create strife and mayhem. That’s pretty much what he’s saying,” Winters said.
    They were in the Smith living room. Not only the Constable, the Sergeant, and the Chief Constable, but also Mr. and Mrs. Smith, who’d come downstairs at the sound of the door opening and boots hitting the floor. It was five o’clock and neither of them looked like they’d gotten a minute’s sleep. They gathered nightclothes around them and joined the police in the family room. The room was casual and comfortable, with wood-paneled walls, colorful furniture, and an overflowing bookcase. The coffee table was piled high with magazines and empty mugs, and cushions were scattered across the floor. Photographs decorated the walls. Winters studied Constable Smith growing up while Lucky gathered up the dishes, all the while apologizing for the mess. Many of the photos also featured a freckled red-headed boy, several years older than his sister, looking the dictionary-definition of mischievous. A golden retriever, thrilled to have company at this time of night, weaved itself around everyone’s feet.
    Andy Smith was a tall, heavy-set man, muscle collapsing to fat. His cheeks were puffy, and his grey hair was interspersed with a scattering of remaining blond strands. Lucky, much shorter and darker, looked like his shadow. But the analogy wasn’t perfect. He was the washed-out one, his face stoic, revealing nothing, whereas she, without saying a word, radiated righteous indignation. She returned, wiping her hands on the seat of her housecoat, and started to offer her guests refreshments, but Paul told her no one wanted anything.
    Constable Smith rewound the tape, and they took seats to watch the program.
    “Trouble,” Paul Keller said, as Ashcroft’s show ended and an ad for deodorant began. “This’ll bring nothing but trouble.”
    Andy Smith jumped up. “I don’t see how you could possibly have agreed to that, Lucky. I thought you had more sense.”
    “Leave it, Dad,” Smith said. “You think Mom doesn’t know by now it wasn’t a good idea?”
    “You don’t think anyone will watch it, do you?” Lucky smiled weakly at Keller, seeking confirmation.
    “Probably not,” the Chief Constable said. “Don’t you worry, Lucky.” His face was flushed, and Winters wondered what on earth the man could be thinking. Of course the program would be seen. As far and wide as Ashcroft wanted it to be.
    “Christ,” Andy said, “are you in dreamland? Molly smells of smoke. She’s brought her boss to our house at,” he checked his watch, “five o’clock in the morning to watch you make a fool of yourself, and you’re hoping no one will see it.”
    “Whether anyone will or will not see that program,” Winters said, “is out of our control. Molly mentioned that she had a copy of the video at home, and I wanted to see it.”
    “We were at an arson earlier,” Keller said. “No one harmed, fortunately. Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Smith.” He smiled at Lucky.
    “You come out in the middle of the night to investigate every crime, Paul?” Andy snorted.
    Lucky said, “I’m going to make