Without waiting for her response, he got up and stalked out of the room and to the back door. A car with a policeman at the wheel was waiting for him in the rear driveway. As he stepped from the house, thin, driving pellets of sleet stung his face and head. He got into the car and the wind blew the door closed behind him, scraping it against his shoe. He winced at the short stab of pain in his ankle and growled, 'The lake.'

Fat chance they had of doing any searching if this weather got any worse. At noon it was already so dark you'd think it was night-time. The diving operation was a mess under optimal conditions. Maushop was among the biggest lakes on the Cape and one of the deepest and most treacherous. That was why over the years there'd been so many drownings there. You could be wading up to your waist and at the next step be in forty feet of water. If those kids had been drowned, it might be spring before their bodies surfaced. The way the temperature was dropping, the lake would be fit for ice-skating in a few days.

The lakeside, normally deserted at this time of the year and certainly in this kind of weather, was crowded with bystanders, who huddled together in small clusters, silently watching the roped-off area where the divers and their apparatus were flanked by police.

Chief Coffin jumped out of the squad car and hurried to the beach. He went directly to Peter Regan, the lieutenant who was supervising the operation. Pete's eloquent shrug answered his unasked question.

Hunching his shoulders inside his coat, the Chief stamped his feet as the sleet melted into his shoes. He wondered if this was the spot from which Nancy Eldredge had dragged her kids into the water. Now men were risking their own lives because of her. God only knew where or when those poor little kids would be found. Shows what happened… A technicality… a convicted murderess gets off because a smart-ass lawyer gets a couple of bleeding-heart judges to declare a mis-trial.

Angrily, he spat out Pete's name.

Pete turned to him quickly. 'Sir?'

'How long are those guys planning to keep diving?'

"They've been down twice, and after this session they'll try once more, then take a break and set up in a different location.' He pointed to the television equipment. 'Looks like we'll make the headlines tonight. You'd better have a statement ready.'

With numbed fingers, the Chief dug into his coat pocket. 'I've scribbled one down.' He read it quickly. 'We are conducting a massive effort to find the Eldredge children. Volunteers are making a block-by-block search of the immediate vicinity of their home as well as the neighbouring wooded areas. Helicopters are conducting an air reconnaissance. The search of Maushop Lake, because of its proximity to the Eldredge home, must be considered a normal extension of the investigation.'

But a few minutes later, when he delivered that statement to the growing assemblage of reporters, one of them asked, 'Is it true that Nancy Eldredge was found hysterical and drenched in this area of Maushop Lake this morning after her children disappeared?'

"That is true.'

A thin, sharp-eyed reporter who he knew was connected with Boston Channel 5's news team asked, 'In view of that fact and her past history, doesn't the search of the lake take on a new aspect?'

'We are exploring all possibilities.'

Now the questions came thick and fast, the reporters interrupting one another to ask them. 'In view of the past tragedy, wouldn't the disappearance of the Eldredge children be considered of suspicious origin?'

'To answer that question could prejudice Mrs Eldredge's rights.'

'When will you question her again?'

'As soon as possible.'

'Is it known whether Mrs Eldredge was aware of the article about her that came out this morning?'

'I believe she was.'

'What was her reaction to that article?'

'I can't say.'

'Isn't it a fact that most if not all of the people in this town were unaware of Mrs Eldredge's past?'

'That is true.'

'Were you aware of her identity?'

'No. I was not.' The Chief spoke through clenched teeth. 'No more questions.'

Then, before he could get away, another question came. A reporter from the Boston Herald blocked his path. All the other news personnel stopped trying to get the Chiefs attention when they heard him ask loudly, 'Sir, in the past six years haven't there been several unsolved deaths of young children both on the Cape and on the nearby mainland?'

'That is true.'

'Chief Coffin, how long has Nancy Harmon Eldredge been living on the Cape?'

'Six years, I believe.'

'Thank you, Chief.'

Jonathan Knowles did not realize how much time was slipping by. Neither was he aware of the activity in the area near Maushop Lake, His subconscious had registered the fact that heavier-than-usual traffic was passing on the road in front of his house. But his study was to the back of the house, and much of the sound was filtered out before it came to his ears.

After the first shock of realizing that Ray Eldredge's wife was the notorious Nancy Harmon, he'd got another cup of coffee and settled down at his desk. He resolved to stick to his schedule – to begin to study the Harmon murder case just as he'd planned. If he found that knowing Nancy Harmon personally in some way clouded his ability to write about her, he'd simply eliminate this chapter from his book.

He began his research by carefully studying the sensational article in the Cape paper. With grim detail that insidiously evoked horror in the reader, it reviewed Nancy Harmon's background as the young wife of a college professor… two children… a home on the college campus. An ideal situation until the day Professor Harmon sent a student to his house to repair the oil burner. The student was good-looking, glib and experienced with women. And Nancy – barely twenty-five herself – had flipped over him.

Jonathan read excerpts from the trial testimony in the article. The student, Rob Legler, explained how he had met Nancy. 'When Professor Harmon got that call from his wife about the oil burner not working, I was in his office. There's just nothing mechanical I can't fix, so I volunteered to go over. He didn't want me to do it, but he couldn't get the regular maintenance service and had to get the heat back on in his house.'

'Did he give you any specific instructions concerning his family?' a district attorney asked.

'Yes. He said that his wife wasn't well and I shouldn't bother her; that if I needed anything, or wanted to discuss whatever problem I found, I should call him.' 'Did you follow Professor Harmon's instructions?' 'I would have, sir, but I couldn't help the fact that his wife followed me around like a little dog.'

'Objection! Objection!' But the defence attorney had been too late. The point had been made. And further evidence from the student had been totally damaging. He was asked if he had had any physical contact with Mrs Harmon.

His answer was direct. 'Yes, sir.' 'How did it happen?'

'I was showing her where the emergency switch was on the oil burner. It was one of those old-fashioned hot- airblower types, and the switch had caused the problem.'

'Didn't Professor Harmon tell you not to trouble Mrs

Harmon with any questions or explanations?'

'She insisted on knowing about it. Said she had to learn how to manage things in her house. So I showed her. Then she was sort of leaning over me to try the switch, and… well, I figured, why not?… so I made a pass.' 'What did Mrs Harmon do?' 'She liked it. I could tell.' 'Will you please explain exactly what happened?' 'It wasn't really what happened. 'Cause nothing much actually happened. It was just that she liked it. 1 sort of spun her around and grabbed her and kissed her – and after a minute she pulled away, but she didn't want to.' 'What happened then?'