said.




"We're curious to know who it belongs to." A gleam came into Sloan's


eyes. "It had to have been left here on the day of the robbery because


the Stewarts, who clean the place every night, would have found it if


someone had left it the day before. They would have put it in the


lost-and-found box. They're honest people, " he thought to add. "You


don't think one of the robbers left it behind, do you? " "No, we don't


think that, " Cole said dryly.




"Which desk was it found under? " "Lemont Morganstaff's, " Ryan


answered. "We're going to talk to him right away. Do you know where


he lives? " "Sure I do. I know just about everybody in town. I'll


take you over to Lemont's as soon as you're ready. Are you going to


ask him about the bag? " "Yes, " Ryan answered.




Sloan's mind was whirling with possibilities. "Where exactly was the


bag found? Was it right by the chair or was it way under the desk? "


"It was in the kneehole, " Ryan answered. "In the corner." Sloan's


eyes widened. "You don't think that maybe someone was hiding under the


desk, do you? " "We haven't drawn any conclusions yet, " Cole told


him.




"But it's possible, isn't it? " "Yes, " Ryan agreed. "It's


possible.




The matter of the bag is confidential, Sheriff. I don't want you


telling anyone about it." Sloan dropped down to his knees. "You can


see through here . . . " "I want to get started, " Cole said


impatiently. "Show us where Lemont lives, and then start rounding up


the people on the list.




We'll use the jail to talk to them."




"I'll wait out front to take you to Lemont's, " Sloan said, bolting for


the door.




As soon as Sloan had stepped outside, Cole said, "It was a bad idea to


tell him where the bag was found." Ryan shrugged. "He's a lawman, and


he'll only get in our way if we don't feed him a little information now


and then. What harm can he do? " As it turned out, Sloan could do a


great deal of harm. Before the day was over, Ryan actually considered


locking the sheriff in his own jail.




Unfortunately, the law frowned on incarcerating a man just because he


was stupid.




In a town the size of Rockford Falls, everyone knew everyone else's


business, and carefully guarded secrets had a way of leaking out like


water through a sieve. The employee who worked at the desk where the


purse was found, Lemont Morganstaff, a prissy old-maid of a man, was


shown the cloth bag and duly questioned. The interview took place in


the claustrophobic parlor of Lemont's home. Dressed in a bright lime


green velvet robe and slippers, Lemont resembled a parrot. He sat in a


faded yellow velvet chair, rested his arms on the lace-covered arms,


and puckered his lips in thought for several minutes before declaring


that the purse couldn't have been found by his desk. He made it a


rule, he explained, never to let any of the customers, man or woman,


past the gate. However, since he hadn't been working on the day of the


robbery, he couldn't be certain the other employees had enforced his


rule.




Sheriff Sloan, who had insisted on being part of the interview, blurted


out the fact that the purse had been found in the kneehole of Lemont's


desk. "It couldn't have been kicked there, " he said, "because your


desk faces the lobby and that front panel goes all the way to the


floor.




Someone had to go around, past the gate, and get behind your desk.




I've had a little time to ponder on it, and I think that maybe there


was a woman hiding there during the robbery. I'd wager the marshals


think the same thing. Now, there were three women in the bankţtheir


names are on the list Marshal Ryan gave meţ and I'm going to go round


them up as soon as I'm finished here. I'm hoping the woman who saw the


murders is just too timid to come forward, but if she's deliberately


keeping the information to herself because she's scared, I'm going to


have to arrest her." Lemont covered his mouth with his lace


handkerchief and looked horrified. "You think a woman saw the


murders?




Oh, that poor dear, " he whispered.




Ryan quickly tried to repair the damage Sloan had done, while Cole


shoved the sheriff toward the front door.




"We don't believe any such thing, " he said. "The purse could have


gotten under the desk a hundred different ways. There could have been


a lot of women inside the bank, and any one of them could have sat at


your desk and accidentally dropped it." Lemont wasn't paying very much


attention to the marshal's explanation.




"It had to have been left on the day of the robbery, " he said


excitedly.




"The bank's cleaned every night by the Stewarts, and they always do a


thorough job. Still, you're right. A woman could have left the bag


sometime during the morning hours. If you look in the tellers'


drawers, you'll find a record of every customer who did any business


that day." Sloan elbowed his way back over to Lemont. "I got a


feeling the three women on my list were there in the afternoon. I got


their names right here. There was Jessica Summers, Grace Winthrop, and


Rebecca James. Do you know any of these, Lemont? " "As a matter of


fact I do. I know Rebecca James. I saw her just last night, but she


was feeling very poorly, and I fear she's caught the influenza. I sent


her home, of course.




"I met the dear woman last week, " he continued. "She stopped by to


tell me how glorious she thought my garden was. She appreciates


beauty, " he added. "I don't know the other two women, but then I keep


to myself. By the time I get home from the bank, there are only two


hours left before dark, and I spend every minute of it tending my


flowers."




"None of the women on the list have lived in Rockford Falls long, "


Sloan said. "Are you sure you've never met Jessica Summers or Grace


Winthrop? " "I might have, but if I did, neither one of them made much


of an impression." Cole grabbed hold of Sloan's arm and pushed him out


the doorway. Ryan kept his attention on Lemont.




"The sheriff spoke out of turn, " he began. "His conclusions aren't


based on fact."




"Perhaps a stranger left the pocketbook behind, " Lemont said. "There


are so many of them in town this time of year.




They come to see the falls and trample all over the glorious flowers


growing wild on the hills outside of town. Some of the men and women


are quite audacious, Marshal. Why, just two weeks ago one of them


vandalized my garden and picked all of my tulips. I've asked and asked


Sheriff Sloan to do something about it, but now that you're here,


perhaps you can apprehend the culprits. I'll press charges, " he


added. "I don't care if it was the work of a child or not. The


hooligans belong in jail." Cole returned to the parlor in time to hear


Lemont's remarks. "It seems you're more concerned about your garden


thanţ" Lemont interrupted him. "Than the people who died in the


bank?




You're right, Marshal, I am. Flowers, you see, are more precious to


me. They serve only one purpose. To be pretty, and I like pretty


things."




"Let's go, " Cole told Ryan. "We've taken enough of Lemont's time."




The two men headed for the door. "I don't want to hear that you've


told anyone about our talk, " Ryan ordered, "or you'll end up in


jail."




Lemont immediately gave his word to keep quiet. He found it impossible


to keep his promise, however. He received a visitor an hour later and


simply had to relate every word of the conversation he'd had with the


marshals. He also told his housekeeper, Ernestine Hopper, who just


happened to have a mouth the size of the stuffed bass mounted on the


sheriflf's office wall. A rather dull-witted woman, she also led a


rather dull life, and news such as this couldn't be kept to herself.




She told everyone she knew that there was a possibility of a witness to


the murders, and after retelling the story four or five times, she


stopped using the word "possibility" and made it fact. By the time the


rumor circled around to Ryan and Cole, the story had blossomed into


front-page news in the Rockford Falls Gazette. Convinced the story was


the hottest news to hit town, the reporter had talked the owner into


printing an evening edition. It was the first time in the history of


Rockford Falls that folks were treated to two newspapers in one day,


and needless to say, the special edition caused quite a stir.




Van wanted to kill someone. Cole suggested he start with the sheriff


and then head on over to Morganstaff's house and shoot him and his


damned flowers too. The men, furious and frustrated, discussed the


problem of dealing with Sloan on their way to Melton's restaurant that


evening. They still hadn't talked to the three women. Jessica Summers


and Grace Winthrop had gone to do an errand and weren't expected back


at the boardinghouse until suppertime. Rebecca James was staying at


the hotel, but was too ill to receive visitors. Hopefully she would be


well enough to talk to the marshals tomorrow.




Ryan and Cole had already talked to eighteen of those who had been in


the bank, and thus far, the investigation had proven to be a waste of


time, for they hadn't gleaned one morsel from any of them. No one had


seen or heard anything unusual.




Although darkness was fast approaching, their day wasn't over yet.




After they had their supper, the two of them Were going back to the


boardinghouse to talk to Jessica and Grace.