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thing was ‘not drunk,’ I think.”
    “Not drunk?” Mulheisen said.
    “Yes. And then she said something that sounded like ‘black blood,’ or it could have been ‘black love.’ I'm pretty sure about the ‘black’ part, but not the other word.”
    Buchanan will flip, Mulheisen thought. If there is a racial angle to this he'll be expecting a riot.
    “Let's go on to some other things,” Mulheisen said. “What kind of person was Jane Clippert? What kind of life did she lead?”
    “Janey was a wonderful girl,” Mr. Mercer put in. His wife nodded in agreement. “She was a beautiful girl and became a fine woman. Her father tried to spoil her, but she couldn't be spoiled. He sent her to schools in Europe. She used to send us postcards from Switzerland.”
    “Mr. Bodnar thought the world of her,” Mrs. Mercer said. “She was smart as a whip and sweet, very well-behaved. She wasn't wild at all, like some of these young people you see on television.”
    “Did they have any children?” Mulheisen asked.
    “No, they didn't,” Mrs. Mercer said. “I don't know why. I never asked.”
    Mulheisen hadn't noticed any pictures of children around. He suspected that the Mercers hadn't had any children either. Perhaps they had idealized Jane as a child that they hadn't had. He wondered if they really knew much about her. Well, there would be other sources.
    “I suppose the Clipperts were very wealthy,” Mulheisen said. “Did Jane inherit a lot of money from her father?”
    “Now that's a funny thing,” Mr. Mercer said. “I was surprised that Arthur didn't go into Bodnar's company, since Axel didn't have any sons. The natural thing would have been for Arthur to take over when the old man retired. But I guess Arthur wanted to go his own way. The company is still going strong, of course, but I don't believe that the Clipperts had any financial interest in it.”
    “Well, Jane must have inherited something,” Mulheisen said.
    “Yes, and you know what old Axel did? He left her a trustfund so that she got a certain amount each year and then when she turned thirty she would get all of it.”
    “That seems odd,” Mulheisen said. “Thirty is kind of an advanced age for that sort of thing, especially if your only child is happily married to a respectable young lawyer. Do you suppose that Bodnar didn't trust Clippert?”
    “I don't know about that,” Mr. Mercer said. “I think it was just one of Axel's peculiarities.”
    “So she inherited when she turned thirty,” Mulheisen said. “How old was Jane?”
    “I'm not sure,” Mrs. Mercer said, “but I think this next April she would be just thirty. April seventeenth.”
    Mulheisen was thoughtful. “So, if she wasn't old enough to inherit before she dies, who gets the money?”
    “I'm sure I don't know,” Mr. Mercer said. “Perhaps a lawyer could tell you.”

Five
    When Mulheisen came downstairs the body was gone. So were Buchanan and Johnson. Mulheisen went over to the Clippert house. He avoided the reporters by cutting across the lawn. His feet sank into the snow and he got snow in his shoes.
    The Clippert place was crawling with lab men. They had a lot to work with. The walls had bloody handprints on them. A photographer was taking a picture of a crumpled peignoir that lay on the living-room floor. But it was much, much worse upstairs. It looked like a slaughterhouse. In the bedroom there was even blood on the ceiling.
    Inspector Laddy McClain was in there. He was a giant man, standing six-six. He waved Mulheisen into the room. “What a mess, eh, Mul?” he said.
    Mulheisen looked around, amazed. “She walked out of here?” he said. “It looks like the Manson family had a party.”
    “There's a whole pile of stuff, TV's and paintings, piled by the kitchen door,” McClain said.
    “Burglary?” Mulheisen said.
    “Could be,” McClain said.
    “Any witnesses?” Mulheisen asked. “What about that security patrol?”
    “No witnesses, so far. The security