The Diva Wore Diamonds by Mark Schweizer Read Free Book Online Page B

It’s called Bible Bazaar 31 A.D. It’s all centered around a bazaar in biblical times. The kids all dress up. The adults as well. We do plays and skits about stories in the Bible and help the kids do activities. You know, like sandal-making and carpentry and pottery and baking and things like that. We didn’t have enough time to do it all ourselves, so New Fellowship Baptist and Sand Creek Methodist are going to join us. We should have quite a turnout.”
    “ Sounds great,” I said. “Meg and I signed up. I’m the tax-collector. I think Meg is one of the tent-mothers.”
    “ Meg said you’d write our creation play. Is it finished yet?”
    “ She said what? ”
    “ She said you’d be happy to write our creation play. It’s for the second day.”
    I sighed. The photocopy machine finished its chore with a final click, and I retrieved my papers from the tray.
    “ I’m sure it will be great. I’ve heard good things about your writing,” said Kimberly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m really in a hurry.”

    •••

    Two hours with Ermentraud (and thirty bucks) later, I found myself back in the office picking potato skins off my slicker and avoiding accusing glares from Marilyn, my secretary.
    “ You had two calls,” she said, tossing a couple of slips of paper onto the desk. Marilyn was a dame with more angles than curves, more spunk than smarts, and a Yugo. She looked at me from behind cheap dime-store glasses with eyes that looked as though they were being piloted by tiny mice in swivel-chairs.
    “ Yeah? Any potential clients?”
    “ One girl’s on the way up,” Marilyn sniffed. “I told her you’d be back by three so she made an appointment. The other guy wants to sell you some insurance.”
    “ Tell him to buzz off,” I said. “I ain’t interested.”
    “ I’ll tell him,” said Marilyn with a huff and a twirl, a half-eaten jelly donut suddenly appearing between her lips. She snorked at it delicately. “And it looks like your appointment is here.”
    I just had time to settle behind my desk when the knock at the door came rattling across the room. I looked up at the dame lolling in the doorway; a broad with more curves than a Möbius algorithm in which x(u,v) (1 + ½ v cos ½ u), and I was hooked like a carp with a mouthful of chicken guts. So I did what any shamus worth his slide-rule would do. I fell in love.
    She batted her peeper-shades at me, then, ballerina-like, rose gracefully en pointe, extended one slender leg behind her like a dog at a fire hydrant, and curtseyed. She seemed to have an ecclesiastical halo around her head as she made her way across the carpet in that particularly sexy way of walking which was really due to a partially slipped disc and incipient arthritis.
    “ My name is Constance,” said the apparition. “Constance Noring. And I need your help.”

    •••

    “ Brilliant!” said Georgia, once the choir had gathered for our pre-service warm-up and rehearsal.
    “ Awful,” said Meg.
    “ Awfully brilliant,” I admitted. “Now, my dear wife, please fill me in on my volunteering to write a creation play for the Bible Bazaar.”
    “ Oh…umm…” Meg bit the end of her finger in consternation and did her best to look chagrined. “Did I sort of forget to mention that?”
    “ Where’s my music?” said Marjorie. “Someone stole my music!”
    “ Besides,” said Meg, “if the lovely Constance Noring is any indication for your writing prowess, you should be able to knock out a creation play in a couple of minutes.”
    “ Hey! Did you hear?” said Phil Camp. “Russ Stafford filed suit yesterday in District Court,” The basses were still milling around and trying to find their seats. “He’s suing the Baptist Church.”
    “ I expect that Judge Adams will toss it out,” said Bob Solomon. “Anyway, Russ should just go ahead and file an insurance claim.”
    “ He mentioned that he’ll go that route if he loses his lawsuit. The insurance company