I Is for Innocent

wouldn't do it this way. They'd have some boy in a dress swinging a pot of incense like he had a cat by the tail."
    William frowned significantly, cautioning Henry to silence. He managed to behave himself for the next twenty minutes or so while the officiating pastor went through all of the expected sentiments. It was clear he was some kind of rent-a-reverend, brought in for the day. Twice, he referred to Morley as 'Marlon' and some of the virtues he ascribed to him bore no relation to the man I knew. Still, we all tried to be good sports. When you're dead, you're dead, and if you can't have a few lies told about you when you're in your grave, you've just about run out of shots. We stood and we sat. We sang hymns and bowed our heads while prayers were recited. Passages were read from some new version of the Bible with every lyrical image and poetic phrase translated into conversational English.
    "The Lord is my counselor. He encourages me to go birding in the fields. He leads me to quiet pools. He restores my soul and takes me along the right pathways of life. Yes, even if I pass by Death's dark wood, I won't be scared...."
    Henry sent me a look of consternation.
    When we were finally liberated, Henry took me by the elbow and we moved toward the door. William lingered behind, filing with a number of others toward the closed casket, where final respects were being paid. As Henry and I passed into the corridor, I glanced back and saw William engaged in an earnest chat with the minister. We went through the front door to the covered porch that ran the width of the building. The crowd had subdivided, half still in the chapel, the other half lighting up cigarettes in the parking lot. The scent of sulfur matches permeated the air.
    This was funeral weather, the morning chilly and gray. By early afternoon, the cloud cover would probably clear, but in the meantime the sky was dreary.
    I looked to my right, inadvertently catching sight of a departing mourner with a slight limp. "Simone?"
    She turned and looked at me. Now I'm an haute couture ignoramus, but today she was wearing an outfit even I recognized. The two-piece 'ensemble' (to use fashion magazine talk) was the work of a designer who'd amassed a fortune making women look ill-shapen, overdressed, and foolish. She turned away, her body rocking as she hobbled toward her car.
    I touched Henry's arm. "I'll be right back."
    Simone wasn't actually running, but it was clear she didn't want to talk to me. I pursued her at a hard walk, closing down the distance between us. "Simone, would you wait up?"
    She stopped in her tracks, letting me pull abreast.
    "What's your hurry?"
    She turned on me in cold fury. "I got a call from Rhe Parsons. You're going to ruin Tippy's life. I think you're a shit and I don't want to talk to you."
    "Hey, wait a minute. I got news for you. I don't make up the facts. I'm being paid to investigate –"
    She cut in. "Oh, right. That's a good one. And who paid you? David Barney, by any chance? He's good-looking and single, I'm sure he'd be willing to cut you in on the deal."
    "Of course it wasn't David. What's the matter with you? If she committed a crime –"
    "The girl was sixteen years old!"
    "The girl was drunk," I said. "I don't care what age she was. She has to take responsibility –"
    "Don't try that righteous tone on me. I don't have time for this," she said and began to walk away. She reached her car and fumbled with her keys. She got in and slammed the door shut.
    "You're pissed because this gets David Barney off the hook."
    She rolled the window down. "I'm pissed because David Barney is a horrible man. He's despicable. I'm pissed because good people have to suffer while the bad people walk away with everything."
    "You think just because you don't like some guy it's okay to see him falsely convicted of murder?"
    "He hated Iz." She put the key in the ignition, turned the engine over, and released the hand brake.
    "That doesn't mean he killed her. You were not exactly without a motive yourself."
    "Me?"
    "The accident you were involved in was her fault, wasn't it? I heard she was drunk and left the car in the drive without the brake pulled on. Because of her, you lost any hope of having children. That's a big price to pay when you'd been cleaning up after her for most of your life. It couldn't have sat well with you –"
    "That's ridiculous. People don't murder other people over things like that."
    "Of course they do. Pick up the newspaper any