Scattered Graves

hear what you’ve come about. It sounded rather cryptic.’’
    ‘‘I know,’’ said Diane. ‘‘It’s one of those things that is hard to explain briefly over the phone. It’s very kind of all of you to see me.’’
    Loraine led her to the sunken living room, just to the right of the entryway. It was a cozy room with lots of fabric—layered oriental rugs, drapes, wall tap estries, upholstered chairs and sofas of jacquard, leather, and various floral designs, all in hues of dark red, brown, green, and gold. There was either a parlor palm or a schefflera at each window. The coffee table was dark walnut with a black marble top adorned with fresh flowers. The marble fireplace had a painting of a horse over the mantel.
    The mayor and his son, Albert, rose to greet Diane as she entered the room. The son was like a young clone of his dad—tall, lean, sharp featured. The for mer mayor had steel gray hair, whereas the son’s hair was blond. Diane thought its color probably came from a bottle and it was a little too stylish to look natural. Walter Sutton’s wife, Eleanor, came in from another door carrying a tray of coffee
She was also a slim woman. She was
and cookies. dressed in a
    peach pantsuit and wore her dark hair up in a French twist. It was a family who could make a good portrait together. Just what a politician needed. Eleanor Sut ton stopped for just a moment when she saw Diane’s face. They all did. She slowly lowered the tray onto the coffee table. Diane was glad she didn’t drop it.
    ‘‘We’re sorry to stare,’’ said the elder Sutton, recov ering first. ‘‘We were just startled. Were you in an accident?’’
    ‘‘Did you hear in the news about Harve Dela more?’’
They had. Diane tried to give as short an explana tion as she could of what had happened. But like everyone else, they had questions. She answered them all.
‘‘That is just terrible,’’ said Eleanor. ‘‘What pos sessed the man? Being demoted in rank is hardly the end of the world.’’
‘‘He evidently had problems,’’ said Diane.
‘‘That’s an understatement,’’ said Loraine. She helped her mother serve the coffee.
Whenever Diane visited, she always drank her cof fee black because it was just so much easier. She felt uncomfortable visiting and eating at the same time unless it was at a dinner party and she had a table in front of her. She took a cookie offered her, put it on the saucer, and sipped her coffee. Not bad, but not as good as the coffee she made. Mrs. Sutton sat down on the arm of her husband’s chair, sans coffee or cookies.
Diane started to turn the conversation to why she had come.
‘‘There are a couple of things I wanted to talk with you about,’’ she said. ‘‘I’m sure you’re keeping up with what’s been going on in Rosewood—the murders.’’
‘‘Terrible, terrible thing,’’ said Walter Sutton. ‘‘I had no love for the man, but this is just terrible. Peeks too.’’ He shook his head as if it were just too much to contemplate.
‘‘There are some things you need to know about the election,’’ began Diane.
She was hoping that in giving them information, she would encourage them to be more willing to give her information in return. Sutton would not readily admit if he had tried to dig up dirt on Jefferies.
‘‘What kind of things?’’ asked Walter Sutton.
Diane opened the folder.
‘‘You know that during the election a lot was made of the rash of burglaries that occurred during the latter part of your administration,’’ she said.
‘‘Don’t I though. It was really bad luck for me. I don’t believe for a minute that anything Jefferies did brought the rate down,’’ he said.
Diane leaned forward. ‘‘You’d be wrong.’’
Sutton looked startled for a moment but said nothing.
‘‘A man in my crime scene unit has an eye for data,’’ continued Diane. ‘‘The crime rate, particularly burglaries, bothered him. So he started collecting data from police and court records. One of the things he discovered is that, though the number of burglaries went down after Jefferies came into office, the number of arrests for burglaries did not go up.’’
Walter Sutton frowned. The others looked puzzled for a moment.
‘‘What are you saying?’’ whispered Loraine.
‘‘I’m saying that it is quite possible the mayor and his close supporters were behind the surge in burglaries. That he conceived and directed them as part of a strat egy to make you