Read Windmills of the Gods for Free Online Page A

driver, sat in the car while his companion walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The door was opened by an attractive brunette in her middle thirties.
    “Yes? Can I help you?”
    “Mrs. Douglas Schiffer?”
    “Yes…?”
    The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an identification card. “My name is Donald Zamlock. I’m with the Security Agency of the State Department.”
    “Good God! Don’t tell me Doug has robbed a bank!”
    The agent smiled politely. “No, ma’am. Not that we know of. I wanted to ask you a few questions about your neighbor, Mrs. Ashley.”
    She looked at him with sudden concern. “Mary? What about her?”
    “May I come in?”
    “Yes. Of course.” Florence Schiffer led him into the living room. “Sit down. Would you like some coffee?”
    “No, thanks. I’ll only take a few minutes of your time.”
    “Why would you be asking about Mary?”
    He smiled reassuringly. “This is just a routine check. She’s not suspected of any wrongdoing.”
    “I should hope not,” Florence Schiffer said indignantly. “Mary Ashley is one of the nicest persons you’ll ever meet.” She added, “ Have you met her?”
    “No, ma’am. This visit is confidential, and I would appreciate it if you kept it that way. How long have you known Mrs. Ashley?”
    “About thirteen years. Since the day she moved in next door.”
    “Would you say that you know Mrs. Ashley well?”
    “Of course I would. Mary’s my closest friend. What—?”
    “Do she and her husband get along well?”
    “Next to Douglas and me, they’re the happiest couple I’ve ever known.” She thought a moment. “I take that back. They are the happiest couple I’ve ever known.”
    “I understand Mrs. Ashley has two children. A girl twelve and a boy ten?”
    “That’s right. Beth and Tim.”
    “Would you say she’s a good mother?”
    “She’s a great mother. What’s—?”
    “Mrs. Schiffer, in your opinion, is Mrs. Ashley an emotionally stable person?”
    “Of course she is.”
    “She has no emotional problems that you are aware of?”
    “Certainly not.”
    “Does she drink?”
    “No. She doesn’t like alcohol.”
    “What about drugs?”
    “You’ve come to the wrong town, mister. We don’t have a drug problem in Junction City.”
    “Mrs. Ashley is married to a doctor?”
    “Yes.”
    “If she wanted to get drugs—?”
    “You’re way off base. She doesn’t do drugs. She doesn’t snort, and she doesn’t shoot up.”
    He studied her a moment. “You seem to know all the terminology.”
    “I watch Miami Vice, like everybody else.” Florence Schiffer was getting angry. “Do you have any more questions?”
    “Mary Ashley’s grandfather was born in Romania. Have you ever heard her discuss Romania?”
    “Oh, once in a while she’ll tell stories her grandfather told her about the old country. Her grandfather was born in Romania but he came over here when he was in his teens.”
    “Have you ever heard Mrs. Ashley express a negative opinion about the present Romanian government?”
    “No. Not that I can remember.”
    “One last question. Have you ever heard Mrs. Ashley or Dr. Ashley say anything against the United States government?”
    “Absolutely not!”
    “Then in your estimation, they’re both loyal Americans?”
    “You bet they are. Would you mind telling me—?”
    The man rose. “I want to thank you for your time, Mrs. Schiffer. And I’d like to impress upon you again that this matter is highly confidential. I would appreciate it if you didn’t discuss it with anyone—not even your husband.”
    A moment later he was out the door. Florence Schiffer stood there staring after him. “I don’t believe this whole conversation took place,” she said aloud.
    The two agents drove down Washington Street, heading north. They passed a billboard that read: ENJOY YOURSELF IN THE LAND OF AH’S .
    “Cute,” Rex Olds grunted.
    They went by the chamber of commerce and the Royal Order of the