"Oh, come on, don't be so dramatic." Cheryl's smile took the sting out of the words. "There's no remedy for shattered silk-right? You're cured-"

"Not yet. But I think I'm on the road to recovery. It may take a while."

"I'm glad you told me," Cheryl said.

"So am I. Now we can forget about it. But I wish," Karen said wistfully, "that I could have seen Jack's face when Tony practically accused him of attacking me."

Cheryl giggled. "Iguess Tony probably shouldn't have done that. It was like intimidation or exceeding his authority or something. But he got a kick out of it, I could tell. He likes you. Oh, he said to tell you he'd let you know if they got any leads, but don't count on it."

"He still thinks it was an amateur-someone looking for money to buy drugs?"

"Well, he claims a professional thief would have gone for the antiques and the silver. I guess your aunt's things are pretty valuable?" Karen nodded, and Cheryl went on, "He says the man must have been high on something or he wouldn't have behaved so inconsistently- throwing everything around but not damaging or taking anything, trying to choke you and then running like a scared rabbit when I came in."

"But you don't agree?"

Cheryl looked doubtful. "It sounds too convenient. You know what I mean? Like saying, I don't know why he acted that way, so I guess he was out of his mind. Seems to me Mark has a point-"

"If Mark thinks there's a maniac out there with my name at the top of his list, I don't want to hear about it."

"Oh, no, it's just the opposite. He doesn't think the man intended to hurt you; he just panicked when you walked in on him unexpectedly. Karen, are you sure you heard him say, 'Where is it?'"

"I'm sure."

"He was looking for something, then," Cheryl said.

"He might have meant money. He sounded…" Karen searched for a word. Even the memory of the hoarse whisper made her shiver. "… not normal," she finished weakly. "That fits Tony's theory of someone on drugs."

"I guess so. But Mark says it's too much of a coincidence that this should happen so soon after Mrs. Mac's car was stolen. He wondered if the guy was after something of hers."

Karen jumped up. "Good heavens. I completely forgot…" She ran into the master bedroom.

The burglar had turned that room into a shambles too. The furniture was heaped high with the crumpled clothing Cheryl had picked up from the floor. But he had not found the secret drawer. The panel slid aside under Karen's pressure and there was the shabby red morocco case, just as she had left it. She opened it, to make certain the contents had not been disturbed, and carried it in to show it to Cheryl.

"It's pretty," Cheryl said politely. "But it doesn't look like the kind of jewelry a burglar would care about."

"It's the only thing of real value I've acquired lately, though. Anyhow, if that's what he was looking for, he didn't find it. Cheryl, you have a very peculiar look on your face. What are you thinking?"

"I was remembering that weird old lady."

"Mrs. Grossmuller?" Karen's voice rose incredulously.

"I guess you think I'm silly."

"Why, no. I just-"

"He did." Cheryl's cheeks flamed. "He practically laughed in my face."

It wasn't difficult for Karen to deduce the identity of the person referred to. "You told Tony about Mrs. Grossmuller?"

"Yes, I did. I'm sorry if you didn't want me to."

"I don't mind. But it is pretty far out, Cheryl. Even admitting she's that disturbed, which I doubt, how could she track me down so quickly?"

"Your address was on your check," Cheryl said. "She could have gotten it from the auctioneer. And we stopped for supper, that took a couple of hours. Mrs. Grossmuller is a big, stout woman, in spite of her age. And insane people are supposed to have unusual strength."

THE manic strength of the insane… Karen didn't know whether it was true or not, but the idea accompanied her through the day like an unwelcome guest who will not go home. She could not decide whether she preferred to be the victim of a hopped-up young thug or a crazy old woman-or, if Mark was right, the unwitting possessor of a valuable object that might or might not be still in the house. On the whole, Tony's theory was less threatening; random violence was not likely to recur.

Rob saw the scratches on her throat and demanded to know what had happened. When she replied briefly that she had been mugged, he shrugged-"Welcome to the club, sweetie-" and went on to tell her in laborious detail about his own encounters with crime.

Monday was usually a slow day, and Karen's boredom was increased by her desire to get back to the house and deal with the chores that awaited her-not only the endless laundry but a number of other tasks she had allowed to accumulate. One, which she might not have thought of doing, had already been done for her. Mark had called a locksmith and asked him-or ordered him- to make an emergency call. The man had telephoned just before she left the house to say he'd be there between one and three.

Cheryl had offered to wait until he came. "I hope you're not mad," she began guiltily.

Karen smiled. "You're a fine one to lecture me about apologizing for the things other people do. I'm grateful- to you and to Mark. Please thank him for me."

But neither of them had mentioned one unpleasant corollary implied by the need for additional locks-that the intruder had not had to force a window because he had a key to the house. It was only an unproved theory, after all.

Karen had not had time to take the necklace to the bank, or to call Mr. Bates. The latter task at least she could do now. She wasn't keen on having Rob eavesdrop, which he would undoubtedly do, but if she waited till she got home, Mr. Bates might have left for the day. She couldn't keep putting things off. Jack's vicious verbal attack had shattered her apathy and inspired her with an urgent need to be done with him.

Knowing Mr. Bates' busy schedule, she expected she would have to leave a message and wait for him to call her back, but when she gave her name, the secretary put her straight through.

"I had expected to hear from you before this" was Mr. Bates' only greeting. "In fact, I tried several times to reach you, without success."

His critical tone filled Karen with resentment, probably because it followed a similar complaint from Jack. Really, people had a lot of nerve yelling at her because she wasn't available when it happened to suit their convenience.

"I've been busy," she said. "There are several questions-"

"Do you still have the Madison jewelry?"

Karen was still annoyed, and his peremptory tone did not soothe her feelings. "I haven't hocked it yet, if that's what you mean."

"I am glad," said Mr. Bates, in a tone that flatly contradicted his words, "that you can joke about it. One would think that after having been physically assaulted-"

"How did you hear about that?"

"I received a telephone call from Congressman Brinckley."

"Oh."

"The jewelry-"

"I have it." Karen heard an audible sigh of relief. She went on, "That was one of the things-"

"I strongly suggest that you bring it to me immediately."

"Now?"

"Immediately."

"I can't. I'm in charge here, and we don't close until five. After that-"

"After that I am attending a cocktail party." Mr. Bates brooded briefly. Karen fancied he must be looking through his appointment book. "I will return to the office afterward," he announced. "Can you be here by seven-thirty?"

"I-yes, I suppose so. Why not tomorrow?"

"The answer to that should be self-evident. Not that I subscribe to Congressman Brinckley's fantastic theory that your assailant was a member of the gang that stole the Rolls-"

An uncomfortable prickling sensation touched the nape of Karen's neck. "Wait a minute," she said. "Wait just a minute…It didn't dawn on me at first…How did Mark-Mr. Brinckley-know I had something of Mrs. MacDougal's? Did he mention the jewelry?"