Programmed for Peril

He was clearly trying to establish that she had played a role in the removal of the body. Jerry had trouble keeping him civil. Trish was glad she invited her attorney Louise O’Day to each of the three separate sessions, as well as to those during which Melody was questioned. Three corpses, one of which was missing, didn’t sit at all well with the police.
    Unable to make Trish tangle herself with the missing body, Sarkman was determined to prove that she had only wounded Carson. He had then crept off somehow on his own. Time and again she had to show the cop and forensic pathologists how and where she had placed the pistol barrel against Carson’s body. She couldn’t be exact, of course, because her eyes had been closed. She could be sure, however, that she had fired five times. Ballistics proved that the four recovered slugs had gone right through him largely undeformed. Just what that meant was unclear. Hard luck for law enforcement.
    Leftover Lewis had a theory: police conspiracy. In a whisper he explained that within the department debts accumulated. Dark obligations had to be met. Accommodations took place. Just how did a corpse fit into all that? Some way, so it had been secretly removed.
    After all the fuss Carson’s disappearance remained an open issue. Alive or dead? No one could say.
    In moments when her rationality was at low ebb, late at night or when she was very tired, she imagined that Carson hadn’t died because he couldn’t be killed. He was a creature made up of her own moral errors and a darker force that for want of a better concept she called the devil.
    In sunshine, though, this idea receded. She had never been one to entertain superstition. There was no devil. There was no ongoing battle for souls. Nothing so simple-minded could prevail. Humanity was only an unsupervised morsel amid a vast, incomprehensible cosmic stew of whirling stars and glistening, icy constellations.
    She shared her thoughts with Jerry. He suggested she “give God a try.” She argued that that simply wouldn’t work for her. He urged her to come to his church anyway. It wouldn’t hurt her.
    She had begun to see him socially six weeks after the terminal violence. From the beginning many of his planned outings were designed to include Melody. Man and girl hit it off at once. It turned out Jerry had perfect pitch, too. They played music games that drove Trish only slightly crazy. What she liked best about him was his solidness and dependability. And his understanding of her commitments to her daughter, mother, and business.
    When they first began to keep company she told him she was an emotional mess and couldn’t begin to handle a heavy relationship. He said that was okay. They could keep it light. Just the same, she was uneasy. Not about him, but about herself. She found Carson gone from the halls of her mind, but there was a lot of important dusting and tidying to do there. Odd, but day-to-day she didn’t find the time. Then one Sunday in church while others prayed she found herself able to concentrate on these deeper dialogues with herself. Jerry, the traditionalist, said she was praying, too. Do-it-yourself therapy was more like it. She explained she was one of those who couldn’t make the leap of faith. It wasn’t in her to do it.
    Earlier that evening he had given her a Christmas gift: an engagement ring and a proposal. She didn’t accept either. She asked him not to take the ring back to the jeweler, though. Hold on to it a while, she said. It was still too soon after Carson for her to trust herself to make a major life decision. She explained again her self-doubts. The sweet man agreed to allow her more time.
    Sneaky Melody had overheard. In the bathroom she whispered, “Mom, what is with you? You’re not thinking!”
    The choir director announced the number for the next hymn. Trish was still leafing through the hymnal when everyone began to sing. She realized she didn’t need the music. She joined in quietly at first, intimidated by the two perfect pitches to either side. Then as the familiar melody rose all around she raised her voice and smiled.
    “ Hark! The herald angels sing: Glory to the newborn King...”