Ray awoke to something April wasn't generally noted for—brilliant sunshine in a cloudless sky. Even the wind took the day off and people were able to shed the extra sweater or walk around with coats undone. Sunglasses grew on every face and below them, smiles. With no boats to disturb it, the water in the bay resembled a film of saran, barely rippling. He stood at the window a long time, watching the occasional pedestrian and the few cars that used the bay front road, and reflecting on his conversation with Irene.

Her entire demeanor had changed when she learned who he was and why he had come to Thompson Bay. Her attention was undivided. He made it perfectly clear what his intentions were and that it didn't matter how long it took; Adelaide Balfour's death would not go unpunished. Irene had offered little in the way of helpful information; instead he had noticed a fading of light in her eyes as he revealed his story. He couldn't put his finger on it but it felt like she was disappointed that he had another agenda, one that didn't have included her.

In return, Ray learned that five years ago Irene was losing her third position since leaving home and had just purchased the little cottage she was living in now. She told him about the bank loan arrangement because of the emergency roof repairs and how it had all piled up to make her the sullen person he was having his coffee with. Ray filed away the tidbit about Elwood Peters and his banking ethics.

Irene's recollection of the killing was vague except for the fact that the council members wanted to hand everything off to the provincial police.

"But they did." Ray offered.

"Only after heavy prodding. Howard, the police Captain, wanted to handle the entire investigation, it would have meant big brownie points with the mayor's office. He was out voted." Irene had said. She confirmed the general opinion of Theo Hersch and reiterated the gossip about Stella O'Hare and Garth Williams.

Their coffees had lasted well into the early morning and he expressed his guilt all the way to her front door. Ray turned from the window and went to the bathroom to wash and shave; Ada, in hair curlers and a voluminous nightgown, had been up checking to see that her husband had locked the parking lot door and caught Ray coming in late, and with a look of displeasure, gave him a message from Duffy. They were meeting that morning.

******

Duffy had the coffee on and a box of plain doughnuts open and waiting when Ray arrived. The office window was open and the air smelled of the advancing spring.

"Goodness, cats been draggin' you in?"

"Late night." Ray flopped into the spare chair. "I didn't expect a party."

"Bet you didn't really expect this either." He tossed the envelope with the file across the desk to Ray, as he sat and helped himself to a doughnut.

"The police chief?"

"Captain. Yep, with a promise not to let it out of my sight, so don't be tryin' to run off with it."

Ray slipped the contents out onto the desk and spread them apart, staring at the various pages. He picked up one headed incident report and scanned the copy. It told the time, date, location and names of responding officers. It described the victim at the crime scene and the subsequent steps taken. Witness interviews.

Notification of medical examiner and fire department. Ray wondered why the fire department was called then he read further and saw that the campfire fell under their jurisdiction. This made him laugh to himself. Captain Howard Smithy had signed off on the report the following day.

The children who found the body were questioned by one of the local nurses from the clinic under the parent's watchful eye. Council Chair, Walter Nigh and executive board member Elwood Peters called the action unnecessary and demanded Smithy hand over to the provincial police all evidence and the investigation as well. This jibed with Irene's information. Ray skimmed the rest, pausing to read a small section on a statement from another renter two lots away from O'Hare's.

"This Carol Walther, do you know anything about her?"

Duffy paused pouring the coffee and stared out the window. "She rents the Myers' place every year for a month. Never even met the woman until the- until I was chasing the story."

"And?"

"Nothin' much. She claims she heard the party with all the loud music and voices like most others but she also said that she was positive a car had been parked on the shoulder in front of the Castle place, between Meyers and O'Hare's."

"I don't see anything in here about a car."

"Nothin' to see. All she could offer was a black shape on the side of the road. No license. No description. No proof."

"But there was nothing there when the police arrived the next morning? No tracks or anything?"

"Doubt they even looked, Ray."

"It says here that the other students didn't even know Adelaide was missing; they claimed that most of them were too drunk or drugged out to know much of anything. The provincial police report backed that up when they re-interviewed all the kids." Ray was talking out loud to himself and stopped when Duffy placed a mug of coffee in front of him.

"Have a doughnut with that, sugar'll give your head a jump start."

"Why is there no mention of the two earlier visits by Williams and Hersch? And why didn't they ever speak to Oliver Atturra; he was the guy that did the renting?"

"Just a regular night's patrolling I suppose." Duffy posited.

"Twice? Why stop by twice?" Duffy shrugged and brushed away crumbs from his shirt. The action annoyed him and he wanted to shout at the editor and remind him that it was his niece that was murdered and he wanted to know the answers to a lot of things whether they seemed important or not. "Can I tell you something in confidence," Ray asked, cooling down changing the subject. "Something that won't find its way into your paper?"

Duffy picked at a stubborn piece of doughnut on his shirt for a moment. "It's not something I like to agree to, Ray. This is my living you know."

"You're telling me that you aren't writing a story about this whole visit I've made to your town and that 'your living' won't benefit from its publication?"

"Touché. Fine then, off the record."

Ray told him about his visit to the bank and about Elwood Peters waffling over the rental charge discrepancy and later how he'd wedged Irene into a corner over her loan payments.

"This guy is not a nice man and I read in this file that he did not want the locals investigating the killing either. What can you tell me about him?"

"Well your last statement's true. He was pushing the council very hard to dump the whole matter on the province. Claimed the stigma would ruin business for the Bay if Howard Smithy was badgering everybody and their brother all through the tourist season. He won that argument too. Convinced old Walter Nigh to go along. As far as the rent money and Irene's troubles, well that's all news to me—and not good news either."

Ray thumbed through a few more papers and stopped as he saw the medical examiner's report describing the condition of his niece when discovered and then the autopsy findings. His face went pale and he breathed very short shallow breaths.

"Ray? You okay?"

He jogged the papers together and slipped them back in the file. "Just a description that won't be leaving my memory for some time." He put the file on the desk and took a swallow of coffee.

"Was it worth the trouble?" Duffy lifted the file and let it drop.

"That Carol Walther statement interests me. She's not here now I guess?"

"Nope. Another couple of months before she'd be coming back."

"The Myers, are they here now?"

"Yup. Live here except when they rent in the summer."

"You wouldn't have their number I suppose?"

Duffy leaned down and dragged a beaten old phone book from his drawer, tossing it to ray. "That's why they print these."

Ray flipped the pages and found a listing for the Myers' cottage, jotted it down and tossed the book back. "Thanks, Duffy. I really do appreciate your help."

"I expect to be kept in the loop, Ray."

"Fine by me. Let's just hope it doesn't become a noose."