“Okay.”
“That ought to put us back here late this afternoon to talk to these people. I hope they’ve calmed down some by then.”
The Chandler house was silent for most of the afternoon. The family and guests had followed Amanda’s example and retired to their rooms, except for Captain Grandfather, who had remained in the study. He had tried to call Elizabeth’s parents, but there was no answer; they were still away at the sales convention. When he telephoned Louisa, Mrs. Murphy had answered the phone and informed him that Alban had driven his mother to a garden show in Milton’s Forge. They were not expected back until early evening. He spent the remainder of the afternoon sketching designs for a sailing vessel, with the name “Eileen” carefully pencilled on the prow.
When Rountree and Taylor returned late that afternoon, the Captain answered the door himself and ushered them into the library.
“Now, we don’t know a thing yet,” Rountree cautioned him, interrupting a spate of questions. “I’ve asked Dr. Cambridge to get on it right away and to call me as soon as he knows anything. I promise you, I’ll let y’all know just as soon as I hear. Now, would you be good enough to get everybody together for me? Right here in this room would be fine.”
A few minutes later, Rountree addressed the small group assembled in the library. “This is going to be a purely preliminary investigation,” he announced. “We don’t know the cause of death yet, but I can tell you that there will be an inquest, so I’m going to need a few facts from y’all: information about that little girl’s state of mind; when she was last seen; that kind of thing. Clay, do you have everybody’s name, and so forth?”
Taylor handed him the list of persons present, and Rountree glanced over it. “Mrs. Chandler?” he inquired, looking around the room.
“My daughter is upstairs,” said Captain Grandfather with a trace of disapproval. “Her husband is attending her.”
Rountree nodded and went back to the list. “Miss MacPherson? That must be you. Only lady present.” He smiled reassuringly at Elizabeth, and then returned to the names. His finger stopped at the next name. “Dr. Carlsen Shepherd. Doctor? There’s another doctor here! Why didn’t somebody-”
Carlsen Shepherd half rose from his seat. “I am a psychiatrist, Sheriff, and if you were referring to an examination of the body just now, I assure you that you did the wisest thing by consulting your state pathology department. It’s been a long time since I did anatomy.”
“Not too long, from the look of you,” Rountree grumbled. “Psychiatrist, huh? Was the deceased, by any chance, your patient?”
“Well, yes, she was, but-”
“Now we’re getting somewhere!”
“But, Sheriff-”
“In a minute, doctor. Excuse me, could I just get everybody to clear out of here for a little bit and let me talk to this fellow? I’ll call you back if I need to talk to you. Go on now, please.” He shooed them with reassuring noises and comments about the routine nature of the proceedings, but with the oak doors firmly shut behind the last of them, the genial county lawman was transformed into an unsmiling, efficient investigator.
“Now, Doctor, you were about to tell me about your patient.”
“Well… it depends,” said Shepherd, shifting uneasily in his chair. “I’ve never had to discuss a patient with the police before. What do you want to know?”
“Pertinent facts, Doctor, that’s all,” said Rountree. Catching Shepherd’s look of surprise, he grinned. “Were you surprised at that five-dollar word? Don’t be. My accent may slip a little now that we’re alone. When I was in the air force, I discovered that folks just naturally relax around a country accent. They seem to think a fellow can’t know much if he talks so funny, and that little discovery proved to be such an asset to my chosen profession that I have done my durndest ever since to see that I keep one.”
“That’s an interesting psychological phenomenon, Sheriff. I wonder if it has ever been studied.”
“Oh, I don’t know if you fellas are on to it, but politicians have known it for years. Now, to get back to what we were talking about before, I just want to have a little unofficial talk. And don’t be afraid of using any of your big words on me. I expect I’ll tag right along.”
“He has a degree from Georgia Tech,” Clay murmured.
“Dr. Shepherd, this is my deputy, Clay Taylor. Clay, will you take notes during this session, please? Doctor, would you like to lie down on the couch while you talk?”
“People always think we do that,” sighed Shepherd. “Mostly, people just sit in chairs, you know.”
“I understand,” said Rountree, with a trace of a smile. “Now-about Eileen Chandler…”
“Well, I’m connected with the university clinic, and when Eileen enrolled at the university this fall, she came to the clinic. She had been referred by her previous physician, Dr. Nancy Kimble.”
“Why was that?”
“Oh, for several reasons, I think. Eileen had just been released from Cherry Hill, and Dr. Kimble was going on sabbatical to Europe this year, so she would have been unable to follow up on Eileen personally.”
“Uh-huh. And what were you treating her for?”
“Well, she was recovering from schizophrenia, but I dealt mostly with her adjustment problems. Dr. Kimble had already worked through everything major. I mean, Eileen was well enough to attend school and to lead a normal life. Seeing me was more of a safeguard than anything else. So she wouldn’t feel completely alone in her new surroundings.”
“Were you treating her for depression?”
“No. I wouldn’t call her adjustment problems depression…”
“Well, would you say she was depressed? Capable of suicide?”
Shepherd hesitated. “It is possible, of course. But I can’t say that I foresaw it. Not depression.”
“All right then, Doctor, why are you here?” asked Rountree gently.
“I was invited to the wedding. I’m not here professionally.”
“And who invited you?”
“Eileen Chandler. She didn’t have too many friends, poor kid. She was extremely shy. And from what I heard about this whole setup, I thought it might be a nice thing to do.”
“I see. Well, anyway, you can tell me something about her state of mind as you’ve observed it since you’ve been here.”
“Er-no. I really can’t. I saw Eileen for less than a minute.” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
Rountree leaned forward with quickened interest. “Now, why is that?”
Dr. Shepherd was silent for a moment, framing his answer. Finally he said, “Sheriff, it beats the hell outta me. I had been here less than an hour, and I was out in the hall talking to her Cousin Elizabeth, when Eileen walked in, screamed that she didn’t want me here, and went charging off upstairs.”
“And why did she do that?”
Shepherd shrugged. “I’m a psychiatrist, not a mind reader. All I know is, she fled when she saw me, then broke a mirror in the upstairs hall. Her family said it was just wedding nerves, and that may be as true as anything. She wasn’t a stable girl.”
“Should she have been getting married?”
Shepherd grinned. “That, Sheriff, is one form of insanity I don’t deal with. I told you: she was no longer a mental patient. We would have classified her as neurotic. And surely you know that neurotics get married all the time.”
Rountree grunted. “Did she have any reason to resent you being here?”
“I wouldn’t think so, Sheriff. Remember, she invited me herself. Handwritten invitation.”
Rountree sighed. “Well, I’ll have to look into it. You got all that down, Clay?”
The deputy, hunched over his notepad, nodded briefly, and went back to writing.
“So, we’ve established that she was upset, but we don’t know why. Of course, I reckon there’s the obvious. You want to tell me what you thought of the groom?”
“I didn’t know him. I mean, I’d met him, of course, but only once. He came by to pick her up one afternoon after our session, that’s all.”
“But she’d have talked about him, wouldn’t she? Must have been pretty important to her.”
Shepherd grimaced. “Did she talk about him? Constantly! But you see, Sheriff, her viewpoint was hardly
