“I’d appreciate that.”

There was a knock at the front door. Then it opened and a small, slender man came into the living room. He was wearing wire-rim glasses and a fedora. He took off his hat, nodded to the sheriff, and bowed to Sally. “Sheriff, ma’am.” He then looked at Quinlan, just looked at him, like a little dog ready to go after the mastodon if his master gave the command.

Quinlan stuck out his hand. “Quinlan.”

“I’m the medical examiner. We’re removing the body now, Sheriff. I just wanted to give you a preliminary report.” He paused, a dramatic pause, Quinlan knew, and grinned. He’d seen it many times before. Medical examiners hardly ever had the limelight. It was their only chance to shine, and this man was trying his best to light up the room.

“Yes, Ponser? Get on with it.”

That wasn’t as good a name as Mountebank, but it was close. Quinlan looked over at Sally, but she was staring at her shoes. She was listening, though; he could see the tension in her body, practically see the air quiver around her.

“Someone strangled her,” Ponser said cheerfully. “It’s pretty obvious, but I can’t say for sure until I’ve done the autopsy. Perhaps the killer believed it wouldn’t be evident after she’d been in the water, but he was wrong. On the other hand, if the tide hadn’t washed her in, then her body would never have been found and it would have been academic.”

“That’s what they wanted,” Sally said. “They didn’t want her found. Even with the tide washing her up, how many people ever go down there? They’re all old. It’s dangerous. James and I finding her, that was just plain bad luck for them.”

“Yes, it certainly was,” the sheriff said. He rose. “Ms. Brandon, could you try to pinpoint the direction and the distance of those screams you heard? Were they from the same direction and distance both nights?”

“That’s an awfully good question,” Sally said slowly. “It would help, yes, it would. Both nights the screams were close, that or she really screamed loudly. I think they came both times from across the way. It was close, so very close—at least I think it was.”

“Ah, there’s a nice long row of neat little cottages lining the street across from this house. Surely someone must have heard something. If you remember anything else, here’s my card. Call me anytime.”

He shook Quinlan’s hand. “You know, what I can’t figure out is why someone was holding the woman prisoner.”

“Prisoner?” Sally said, just staring at the sheriff.

“Naturally, ma’am. If she wasn’t being held against her will, then why would you have heard the screams two different nights? The killer was holding her for some reason, a reason so powerful he only killed her that second night when she got loose and screamed again. But I’ve gotta ask myself, why keep someone prisoner if you’re not planning on doing away with her anyway? Or maybe he was thinking of ransom and that’s why he kept her alive. Maybe he was planning on killing her all along. Maybe he’s a real psycho. I don’t know, but I’ll find out. I haven’t heard a thing about anyone missing.

“Questions, I’m filled with them. As soon as we can get a photograph of the woman, then my deputies will be crawling all over the subdivision like army ants. I hope she’s local, I really do.”

“It would make your job a whole lot easier,” Quinlan said. “Give me a relative or a husband any day and I’ll find you a dozen motives.”

“Yes, Mr. Quinlan, that’s surely the truth.”

“Nothing like a good mystery to stir a man’s blood.”

“I prefer mine to yours, Mr. Quinlan. Finding two missing people after three years isn’t likely. Well, I’ll be on my way now. A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Brandon.”

He said to Quinlan as they walked to the door, “Now, this murdered woman, I’ll find out who was holding her and then we’ll see what kind of motive we’ve got for a brutal murder. I wonder why they threw her body over the cliff?”

“Instead of burying her?”

“Yeah. You know what I think now? I think someone was furious that she got loose and made a racket. I think someone was so furious he killed her and just threw her away like so much trash. I want to catch him badly.”

“I would too, Sheriff. I think you might just be right.”

“You in town long, Mr. Quinlan?”

“Another week or so.”

“And Ms. Brandon?”