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compromising situation. In this very room. I understood. He was a man like all men. And like most men in their forties, foolish. She was very pretty, very young and, more importantly, very willing. That's understandable. John had a great deal of charm." 
    "She told me," Dave said. 
    "Yes, I'll bet she did. Well, I didn't make a scene. We talked it out sensibly, John and I, like grownups. John saw my point of view and April went. So that was that. Until his accident. Then she came back. To the hospital. I couldn't be there constantly. It takes at least two people to run this shop. She had no shop to look after. There's money in her background. The Stannards are an old El Molino family. She was there night and day, the nurses told me. John didn't know it. He was under heavy sedation. But there she sat, like something out of Olive Higgins Prouty." 
    Eve picked up her glass and tilted it steeply. This drink wasn't going to last even as long as number one. She set the glass down noisily. Her voice had the texture of a rusty file. 
    "Naturally when John began to be aware at all, it was faithful April he was aware of. I was a vague face that came and went. He didn't reason about it. Of course, a man in pain like that hasn't time for reason. I know it. But John was something of a special case. You see, Mr. Brandstetter-is that right?" She arched one brow. 
    "The name?" Dave said. "Yes, that's right." 
    "Scandinavian. Brand's daughter. Isn't that what it means? Yes. Funny." Her smile was thin and hungry. "You certainly don't look like anyone's daughter." 
    "Appearances can be deceiving," Dave said. 
    "Hah." She shot Norwood a dismal look. "Despite limited opportunities, I still know a man when I see one." 
    "John," Dave reminded her, "was a special case." 
    "Yes. He'd never been ill before. Never. He didn't know how to cope with it. Oh, life hadn't been exactly generous to him. He'd had disasters. But, you see, I'd always been there, right there, right at his side, to get him through somehow. He'd come to rely pretty heavily, pretty constantly on me for that. He'd make a mess, I'd pick up the pieces. Well, this was one mess I couldn't help with. No one could but doctors, nurses. And he couldn't grasp that. I'd always come to his rescue — for close to thirty years. This time I couldn't. I was as helpless as he was. And he hated me, really hated me for that." She drank again. 
    "April Stannard couldn't help him either." 
    "Oh, you are so right." Her mouth took a wry sad twist. "So completely right. But did he see it that way? No. Somehow her always being there made a difference." Her hands went up and fell like shot birds. "God knows what goes on in the romantic mind. I've never been able to fathom it. He said she 'loved him' "  — Eve got rid of the phrase like bad food —"and  I didn't. Good God! I ask you." 
    "Since it was all that could be done and she was doing it, maybe it was enough." Dave stood. "Can you give me some ideas about where Peter might be?" 
    "Your urgency puzzles me." She raised a hand to keep the lamplight out of her eyes and blinked up at him. "Insurance companies aren't known for frantic efforts to locate those they owe payments to.'' 
    "True. There's more to the story." He told it. 
    "Oh, seriously!" She laughed, shook her head, picked up her drink and finished it off. "I'm surprised at you. I'd thought you were complicated. How transparent. If he'd murdered his father, you wouldn't have to pay. It's not only transparent, it's sordid. And you didn't strike me as the least bit grubby. It shows how appearances deceive. I'm disappointed." 
    "Craziest thing I ever heard." Norwood got up and went with his glass into the desk dark. "Peter and his father were friends." 
    "Friends fall out," Dave said. "Mrs. Oats and her husband, for example." 
    "Ah," she said, "but John and I were never friends. We were dependents. He depended on me for common sense and backbone. I depended on him for-well, he