looked too high.' A tough truth, but a truth all the same.
The station wagon moved on slowly. De Gier lit a cigarette. Suzanne coughed and waved at the smoke. He stubbed the cigarette out.
'There!' the commissaris said.
De Gier was impressed. The mansion was big, two stories high and L-shaped, but not by any means clumsy. The long white clapboards covering its structure gave it an austere touch, but several cupolas broke the long lines and the wing had its roof softened by graceful dormer windows. The main cupola grew into a spire topped by a weathervane, a golden bird sitting on a cross. The heavy snow smoothed the general impression of imposing sternness, and rows of long icicles attached to several lanterns illuminating a cleared driveway and parking lot. A battered pickup and a new station wagon of the same make as the Opdijk car were parked near the fieldstone steps of the porch leading to the front double doors, sculptured m oak and adorned with simple garlands. There was no sign of the Cadillac that had caught the commissaris' fancy.
Reggie Tammart opened the doors and Janet Wash awaited her guests in the hall. The commissaris explained the sergeant's presence and introduced him. De Gier held the old lady's long cool hand. A graceful woman, tall and straight but without any stiffness, splendid in a long woolen dress of a rose color that contrasted with her long white hair. De Gier liked her even more when she walked ahead, sweeping through the hall, guiding her guests to a room warmed by an open lire in which four-foot logs hissed and crackled. He thought of pictures in old English country magazines. Faded sepia pictures of a world that seemed unbelievable and very likely no longer existed, now that castles had become state property and lords and ladies were public servants, paid to prance about at set times while the crowd was herded along under the watchful eyes of uniformed custodians. But here the scene was alive. He found a corner near the fireplace and warmed his back while Reggie poured drinks from crystal decanters with silver labels on chains and stirred sausages in a copper saucepan heated by a burner.
The commissaris stood in the middle of the room, with his cane stuck in a bearskin rug, and Suzanne had become lost between tasseled cushions on a divan upholstered in the same material that had been used for the ten-foot-square curtains hiding windows on two sides of the room.
'Beautiful,' the commissaris said. 'Superb, madam, as superb as your country. I had forgotten what space is like, as I come from a place where fourteen million people are crowded into an area half the size of this state.'
Janet Wash inclined her head. 'Thank you. Fourteen million you say. How frightening. There are a million of us in Maine, I believe, but when I flew over the land in Michael's plane some weeks ago it seemed there were houses everywhere. We are very fortunate, I suppose, but we have come to the end of things here too. This house can no longer be kept up. I keep most of it closed. Perhaps with half a dozen servants something could be done, but the only servants are Reggie and myself and there's a limit to energy, especially to mine. And Reggie has his own cabin to worry about. I can't expect him to help me push a vacuum cleaner. Do we all have our drinks? A toast of welcome to you, gentlemen!'
De Gier sipped and bowed. Janet smiled at him. 'How do I address you? As Mr. de Gier?'
'The sergeant is a detective on our force, madam,' the commissaris said. 'Out here on an exchange trip. I knew he was due to travel to the States, but I had no idea we would meet here, an amazing coincidence.'
Janet found her purse, opened it, and put on her spectacles. 'Come closer, sergeant. You look so well in that denim suit. Is that the latest European fashion? I haven't been to Europe in years, and the last time the general and I went the fashion was double-breasted suits. This is so much better. I always thought men should wear scarfs instead of ties. And your boots! How chid Reggie, really, I must take you to Boston. Suede boots would look magnificent on you. Just step over and look at the sergeant's boots. Don't you think they're marvelous?'
Reggie came, looked, and attempted to smile. De Gier felt embarrassed and took refuge in his whiskey, raising his glass and grinning at Reggie. Reggie looked away. De Gier thought the man looked very well in his faded brown sports jacket, corduroy slacks, and white shirt. The knot of Reggie's tie had dropped an inch, revealing the absence of a collar button and a thick growth of curly chest hair.
'Never mind, Reggie. I am only teasing. You even remembered to put on a tie. But a trip to Boston wouldn't be wasted. You haven't been out of here for so long. Reggie is a military man,' she explained to the commissaris. 'He came here after his return from Vietnam and he says that he prefers nature, any nature, to the cities. I should be grateful. Reggie is an accomplished gardener and an excellent woodsman.'
'Vietnam?' the commissaris asked. 'What outfit were you with, sir?'
But Reggie had gone back to the sizzling sausages and Janet answered. 'Reggie was with the Green Berets. He fought in trouble spots where the regular army wouldn't go. It's such a pity that the Vietnam war turned out to be a flop. Reggie should have come back as a hero, but now we are all supposed to be ashamed about what went on there. My husband was luckier. He fought in the Second World War and returned sporting his medals, but he came back as an invalid, poor dear. It happened in the last week, somewhere in Germany. A bullet in a very wrong place. He was paralyzed, and I had to push him around in a wheelchair. Such a shame. But he was very good about it, and he loved the life here. Another drink, sir.'
Reggie collected the empty glasses and refilled them. He served the sausages on little saucers and de Gier helped. When the sergeant had found his corner near the fireplace again he took a minute to study the man. A commando, a professional superman. De Gier felt jealous. He had often thought that he had been born in the wrong place. He saw himself gliding through a tropical forest, carrying some ultra-automatic weapon, a ripple among leaves and trailers and creepers. He tried to stop his fantasy, but it continued by itself. De Gier had traveled somewhat, but he had never been to the tropics and knew the jungle of Indochina only on film. And this man had actually lived in such an enchanting location. In a tent. Tigers growling outside, and small yellow men in black cotton pyjamas crawling everywhere. Hmm.
'You do gardening here?'
'Not now. The snow will be on the ground until April. I've been working on the tractor all day. I need it for pulling logs, but the machine is getting old. I keep on taking it apart, but it is just as old when I put it together again!'
'How long were you in Vietnam?'
'Three years. Until it was all over.'
Janet came over and made de Gier sit next to her on a settee. 'Will you be going on patrol with the sheriff, sergeant?'
'Yes, madam. He gave me the first day off, but tomorrow I am supposed to be working.'
'That must be an interesting experience. I wonder if we have crime here. Reggie, do we have crime here?'
Reggie bent down and adjusted a woven rug on the shiny hardwood floor. 'Of course, Janet. Jameson houses the biggest bunch of cutthroats this side of Manhattan. I'm glad you keep me on the estate most of the time. I wouldn't be sure of my life in town. The last time I walked down Main Street every second man carried a six gun and Beth was saying that she would rename her diner. The OK Corral I believe it's going to be called.'
Everybody laughed except Suzanne.
'Ah yes,' Janet said. 'I mustn't forget to ask. You mentioned the sale of Opdijk's house yesterday. Did you see my old friend Michael Astrinsky? He is such a nice man, and he was such a good friend of Pete's. I had wanted to give you Michael's name, but I forgot. I am sure he could be of help.'
The commissaris put his glass down and shook his head when Reggie wanted to carry it to the table. 'No more, thank you. I have to watch my habits these days. Yes, madam, we saw Mr. Astrinsky and he made an offer, but I would like to have another evaluation and the sheriff was kind enough to ask an expert friend of his to come and have a look at the place. Somebody from the next county, I believe.'
'Can I ask what Michael offered?'
'Certainly. Thirty thousand.'
She shook her head sadly. 'I don't know about values anymore, not since inflation has changed everything. Some years ago such an amount would have been a good price. That would be for an immediate sale, I imagine, with Michael buying for his own account?'
'Yes, madam.'
'It might be better to have the house listed. Although I don't know. The other houses on the Cape are empty and Michael hasn't been able to sell them, and he is an excellent businessman, the only rich man around we always say. He has done very well here. Our trouble is that we are too far from the shopping centers. Even in summer we don't have enough of a crowd to have our own supermarket. We have to drive over sixty miles to get groceries.
