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like to meet him I could arrange it. Though I don’t see what interest you’d have—”
    “I’m interested in anybody that got anything out of J.D.’s death.”
    She looked at me uncertainly. “Surely you’re not still interested in me—in that way?”
    I stared frankly at her red mouth, let my stare drop to her full bosom and taut waist. “I’m interested in you in all sorts of ways.”
    “I was afraid for a while you were going to act like a stepson. But you’re not talking like one now.” She let her lips remain parted when she finished speaking. A little flicker of triumph danced in her eyes. She stood up and expanded her body. “Let me make you another drink.”
    “Thanks. I don’t think I’ll have another drink.”
    “You’re not leaving again, so soon?” She spoke as she moved across the room.
    “I’ve got a lot of things to do that won’t wait. A lot of people to see.”
    She turned from the bar and faced me. Her right hand twisted a bracelet on her left wrist, almost as if she were clutching at herself for support. “What people?”
    “Maybe you can make some suggestions. You know what I’m looking for.”
    She filled a double pony with bourbon and drank it quickly. “No, I can’t offer any suggestions. I’m as much in the dark as you are. Don’t you believe me?”
    “Why should I?”
    “But you’ve got to believe me.” She recrossed the room towards me. Her arms hung straight down by her sides now, lending her body a queer, stealthy dignity.
    I stood up and looked into her face. It was deceptively calm, like the frozen surface of a dark stream. In the bottom of her eyes I could see the shifting play of hidden currents, without being able to guess their meaning.
    “If you want to see Kerch,” she said rapidly, “I’ll take you to him tomorrow.”
    “Do I need a formal introduction?”
    “No, of course not. But you can’t do anything tonight. It’s getting late. You might just as well sit down and have another drink.”
    “Maybe it would suit you better if I waited till next year or the year after.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You seem very eager to have me do nothing at all. I’d expect you to have some interest in the matter of who killed your husband. Curiosity, anyway.”
    “You don’t understand, Johnny. You can’t understand how hard it’s been for me to live here, since Jerry died. I just can’t bear the idea of your stirring up more trouble.”
    “He didn’t die. He was killed. And I’m not making trouble. I’m simply not dodging it.”
    “You think I don’t know he was killed? You think I could ever forget it? I know what the old ladies say about me behind my back. And the stodgy wives at their bridge parties, who think they’re so goddam respectable! They think their husbands are such solid citizens, but most of them aretoo stupid to know where their money comes from. My husband was killed, but I get no sympathy from them. I wasn’t born here, you see, and I made my own living before I was married, so I’m a suspicious character. It hasn’t been easy for me. Sometimes I thought I’d go crazy with nobody to talk to.”
    “You shouldn’t have such a hard time finding someone to talk to.”
    “Men, you mean? They’ve come sniffing around. I could have their men, if I thought they were worth having.”
    “Why don’t you leave here, if you don’t like it? There are other cities. Where did you come from?”
    She didn’t answer for a minute. She went to the bar and poured herself another shot of whisky. When she had drunk it, she said: “I’ve got a business to run here. I’m carrying on.”
    “You got rid of the hotel fast enough.”
    “I told you I had to. Anyway, that’s no concern of yours.”
    “Where did the money go?”
    Alcohol had refueled her fires. She said fiercely: “I’m not answerable to you.”
    “I understand I’m next in line for J.D.’s property.”
    “As long as I’m alive I have a perfectly free hand.”
    I got