A matter of time

case. Anyway, his age isn't right.'

'Just a hypothesis. He could be her son but O'Brien's grandson. How's that for off the wall?'

'There would've been rumors. You can't keep babies a secret. They yell all night.' He said that bitterly. Cash now knew why he looked so haggard. His youngest had had a bad night.

'Just trying to make the point that there's still lots of possibilities. Probably a lot we haven't even thought of yet. When we find one that fits all the physical evidence, we'll have it whipped. Meanwhile, we just keep plugging.'

That summed up Cash's philosophy of detective work. No grandstanding, no Sherlock Holmes ingenuity. Like the ram, just keep butting your head against that dam. Sooner or later, something would give.

'You dig some more this morning. I'll arrange a viewing for this afternoon. Say around two.'

'Okay.' Harald left in a hurry, as if glad to escape the speculations. Cash would have liked to have escaped himself. Miss Groloch and Jack O'Brien had driven his thoughts into some truly bizarre channels.

He did not understand why, for sure, that everyone, even he, assumed the old woman was guilty… of something. If she were really as old as she seemed, might there be an alienness which could be sensed only subconsciously? A natural resentment on the part of the ego?

'Heard you guys talking,' said Railsback, replacing Harald in the chair. 'I think you ought to follow up on your theory.'

A glance told Cash the chance that incest and/or genuine murder were involved seemed, to Railsback, a piece of spider's silk thrown to a drowning man. He wanted logically neat, if morally outrageous, answers.

Even if the evidence at the scene hadn't suggested any direct connection with Fiala Groloch. Cash cautioned himself against grabbing for scapegoats, for easy outs.

He dithered a while, pushing papers, then checked out and went to the convent.

Sister Mary Joseph kept him waiting fifteen minutes, then appeared with a curt, 'What is it this time?'

Cash was startled. But even nuns had to have their bad days, he supposed.

'A favor.'

'And only I can help.'

'We're going out on a limb. If you'll help, we're going to try jarring some information loose from Miss Groloch. Seems like it's the only way to get the whole story.'

She crossed herself. 'What would I have to do?'

'We figured we'd bring her in to view the body. And have you there to see what happens.'

'You should take her into the room with the rubber hoses.'

Cash shook his head. The sister seemed to have an overpowering, irrational hatred of the old lady.

'All right. But these interruptions are getting to be a habit.'

'I'm sorry. I really am. If there were some other way… Well, my partner, the young officer, will pick you up about one-thirty. I'll try to have him call ahead so you'll know exactly when.'

'Do that.'

Cash beat a hasty retreat, involved himself in some unrelated legwork, a call home, and his daily Big Mac.

During the drive to Miss Groloch's he caught himself listening to the dispatcher with a grim intensity, as if subconsciously hoping something would interfere with his complicated, makeshift scheme.

Among other maneuvers, just this once, he had decided to bring Annie into the game.

Miss Groloch no longer appeared pleased to have company, though she remained a polite and fussy hostess. She even asked if he would like to see anything special on the television she had been watching.

The change was more marked in the behavior of her cat, who watched him warily, tail lashing, while he sipped tea, and sneaked amazed glances at the television. It had materialized overnight.

'It's my boss. Lieutenant Railsback. The woman claims the dead man's her brother. He says that, being's you're the only other one we can find who knew him, you'll have to come down and take a look too.'

The woman was no fool. From her four-feet-ten she looked up and smiled a thin, I-don't-believe-a-word smile. Well, so much for poor Hank, he thought. For once the horns and tail couldn't be sloughed off on him. My turn in the barrel.

But she didn't call him on it. He suspected she had already decided that it would come to this and had elected for continued cooperation. Even if she were guilty of something, the net he was drawing closer had holes big enough for much larger fish to slip through.

'Just let me get my hat and coat,' she said. 'I'll only be a minute.'

To his surprise, that was all it took. As she returned, she said, 'I hope you will understand if I'm nervous. I have not been anywhere in so long.'

Her stepping-out togs, which included a parasol, confirmed her claim. Coat and hat were ancient, and looked it, though they weren't threadbare. Cash thought his mother, at thirty, would have looked stylish in them. He hoped no one laughed. He was causing the woman enough distress as it was.

'I look how?'

His pause gave him away.

'Behind the times, yes? I can see out my windows, Sergeant.' Her accent thickened. She smiled nervously.