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sorry."
    Again Crane felt tension. He asked, "Just what difference does it make who was in the car with Richard before he died?"
    "A small town's prurient curiosity," Carmel said bitterly.
    "I'm really sorry, Carmel," said Talmadge.
    The taproom was beginning to fill, and men and women, as smartly dressed as a New York cocktail-hour crowd, passed by their table. Everybody seemed to know everybody else, and most of the new arrivals either spoke or waved to Crane's companions. The newcomers were very gay and noisy.
    "The haut monde of Marchton," Talmadge drawled.
    "They look nice," Crane said.
    He felt a warm glow about the case. He liked the seductive hollow above Carmel's bare collarbone, the sweet spitefulness of Alice, the name of Talmadge March. He felt sorry for Ann Fortune, sitting at home. He liked the feeling that his expense account was unlimited.
    He hoped he would not solve the case too quickly. He wondered if he could be a little drunk. "One more?" he suggested to the others. They were perfectly willing. While Charley collected empty glasses the conversation turned to duck shooting. The season had been open for a couple of weeks, but there hadn't been many birds. The cold weather had made them hopeful for next Sunday's shooting. Talmadge asked Crane if he'd like to shoot with them, and Crane said Peter March had already suggested it.
    "It's usually fine shooting," Dr Woodrin said.
    For the first time Talmadge spoke without affectation. "Wonderful shooting."
    Crane learned that the river lands where the March family and friends shot duck had been acquired by Great-Grandfather March when he emigrated from New England in 1823. He had farmed by the river and died there, and had willed the land as a perpetual estate for the family until there should be no direct male descendants. Then it could be sold.
    "Old Jonathan March's idea," Talmadge explained, "was to provide a backlog for the family, a place they could return to when defeated by the outside world."
    "He didn't know his grandsons would nick the world for about twenty million dollars," Dr Woodrin said.
    "I think it's a nice idea," Crane said. "Is the land worth anything now?"
    "About five thousand dollars," Talmadge said.
    "It's swell for duck shooting," Dr Woodrin said.
    "We wouldn't sell it if we could," Talmadge agreed. "Besides, the doctor wouldn't let us. He's been appointed trustee for the Jonathan March Estate."
    "It's a responsible job," Carmel said, smiling. "Administering an estate worth five thousand dollars."
    "Five thousand is a lot of money as far as I'm concerned," Dr Woodrin said.
    Charley brought them their drinks. Crane was surprised to see Alice March had switched to pernod and water. He had had one unfortunate experience with this substitute for absinthe and he had respect for anyone who could drink it.
    Pouring his ale into a tilted glass, Dr Woodrin inquired, "What kind of a shot are you, Crane?"
    "I'm fine with a machine gun."
    Carmel laughed. She appeared, no doubt because of the martinis, quite gay. "I don't believe we have a machine gunner in Marchton's upper set."
    Alice March downed half her pernod, looking as serene as the plump mothers old Italian masters put on canvas. Admiring her fortitude, Crane drank his double scotch.
    Carmel said, "I do my best work with a pearl-handled automatic."
    "That's fine for close work," Crane said. "Nothing like it for a hand-to-hand encounter with a duck." Alice March said, "Carmel's noted for her close work."
    A bellhop in a maroon uniform with two vertical rows of gold buttons halted by the table. "Mr Crane?"
    Crane said, "I believe I am."
    "Telephone," the Bellhop said. "Telephone what?"
    "For you, sir."
    "For me? A telephone? What kind of a telephone?"
    "A telephone call, sir."
    "How disappointing!" He stood up, made a sweeping bow. " Kindly pardon me." He followed the bellhop.
    He heard Talmadge say, "A bit high, I'd say." He heard Dr Woodrin say, "Makes Richard look like a teetotaler." He heard