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from his pocket, unlocked the car, and climbed under the wheel.
    â€œHold it,” Corrigan said. “I’ll drive.”
    â€œNo, Captain,” Gerard said. “I will. I haven’t felt a wheel under my hands for over four years.”
    â€œYou’re a reckless driver.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œAll smart-alecks are.”
    â€œOne down,” Gerard said. “I’m not a reckless driver at all. Reckless driving is for the birds. What do you think of that?”
    â€œThen show me,” Corrigan grunted. He got in beside Gerard; Frank and Baer sat in the rear.
    About a mile from the field the secondary highway ran into Route 9. Gerard turned south toward the city. Whether he had been pulling Corrigan’s leg or telling the truth was irrelevant. He drove carefully, which was all Corrigan cared about.
    There was no conversation until Gerard suddenly said, “Tell me something, Captain. How does it feel to knock yourself out getting a case up against somebody, only to find your chicken walk home free a few years later?”
    â€œNot good,” Corrigan said.
    â€œYou were pretty lucky,” Gerard said. “If that stupid dog hadn’t dug up that flower bed, the body would never have been discovered.”
    Corrigan said, “If you geniuses had bothered to check the kind of fertilizer your father’s gardener used, you never would have buried her with a dog on the premises. Bone meal draws dogs the way sugar does ants.”
    Gerard looked irritated. From the rear seat Frank Grant said, “Why don’t you keep your big mouth shut, Gerry?”
    â€œWhat d’ya mean, why?” Gerard demanded. “Corrigan knows we killed her, Frank.”
    â€œYou’re a fool,” Frank said softly.
    â€œOh, stop acting superior,” Gerard snapped. “We can’t be tried again. Double jeopardy. For all the harm it can do, I can yell it through a loudspeaker on Times Square on New Year’s Eve. In fact, that’s an idea. What do you think, Captain? Could we get into trouble pulling a stunt like that?”
    Corrigan did not answer him.
    â€œThe captain isn’t feeling conversational,” Gerard said.
    â€œYou’re not only a fool, Gerry,” his partner-in-murder said, “you’re a loudmouth fool. Hasn’t it occurred to you that while Corrigan and Mr. Baer here were pretty sure we did it, you’ve now removed all doubt?”
    â€œSo what?” jeered Gerard. “Fat lot of good it’ll do ’em.”
    â€œWell, don’t be so free with your confessions in front of our folks, especially my mother. And Andy. Mother, Andy, and your father are probably the only three people in the United States who think we’re innocent, and I’m not sure about your father.”
    â€œHell, he knows we did it. He’s smart. Smarter than that doting mama of yours and that fathead of a chauffeur. Dad knew it before Corrigan did.”
    â€œYou know something, Alstrom?” Chuck Baer said. “Your pal is right. You’ve got a mouth like a steam whistle. I knew you were a can of worms, but I’m wondering how long I’m going to be able to take you. Not long.”
    â€œYou shut up and do your job!”
    â€œNobody tells me to shut up, killer,” Baer said in a perfectly even voice. “Taking your dad’s money isn’t going to stop me from shoving your teeth down your throat. And don’t forget it.”
    â€œWatch the road,” Corrigan said. “You’re beginning to drive erratically, Gerry.”
    Frank Grant chuckled.
    â€œWhat the hell are you chuckling about?” Gerard Alstrom cried. “You think you’re so goddamn brainy. You want me to tell you something, Frank? That brilliant plan of yours stank! If we had followed my suggestion of cutting her up and cremating the pieces in the lab’s electric furnace, there wouldn’t have been