"The Bangstons are a well-known family here," Parrott said.

"You know them?"

"I knew Mr. and Mrs. Bangston," Parrott said. "Had a big place on the water. Had a huge picnic every year, raised a lot of money for Catholic charities."

"The twins would be about forty-one," Jesse said.

"So they graduated high school in 1986," Parrott said.

He grinned.

"I'm not that quick at math," he said. "One of my nephews graduated that year. My sister's kid. I was a patrolman then, kids had a huge beer party, and we had to break it up. I hadn't been there, he'da been tossed in the clink."

"What's an uncle for," Jesse said.

"You got that right," Parrott said. "To serve and protect, and get your nephew off."

Parrott grinned again and leaned back in his chair.

"Now he's a cop, too," Parrott said. "Works for me."

"Probably grateful," Jesse said.

"Sure," Parrott said. "He was a kid, you know. You guys ever drink too much?"

Suit nodded.

Jesse said, "Now and then."

"Sure," Parrott said. "Me, too. Why are you interested in the Bangston girls?"

"Roberta's husband was murdered," Jesse said.

"Really? What a shame. You suspect the girls?"

"Nope."

"So why you down here talking about them," Parrott said.

"Got nowhere else to be," Jesse said.

"That's police work for you," Parrott said, "isn't it?"

"Gotta start somewhere," Jesse said.

"Lemme make a suggestion," Parrott said. "I got a Rotary meeting at noon, but my nephew is here; why don't I turn you over to him. I'll bet he even knows these girls."

"Go to high school with them?" Jesse said.

"No," Parrott said. "He went to Hempstead High. Bangstons woulda sent their kids to Holy Spirit."

"Catholic school," Jesse said.

"Yeah. But the schools are close and the kids mix with each other," Parrott said.

He leaned forward and flipped a switch on the intercom.

"Sergeant Mike Mayo, please come to the chief's office," Parrott said.

MAYO WAS obviously a weight lifter, a big genial-looking guy with short red hair and a nineteen-inch neck. He shook hands with Jesse and Suit when they were introduced.

"Mikey," Parrott said. "These people are interested in the Bangston twins; you know them?"

Mayo smiled.

"I do," he said.

"Could you talk to Jesse and Luther about them?" Parrott said. "I gotta go to Rotary."

"Sure," Mayo said.

"Use my office," Parrott said. "Close the door when you're through."

Parrott shook hands with Jesse and Suitcase and left. Mayo went around and sat behind Parrott's desk.

"Try it out for size," he said.

"I notice you smiled when Chief Parrott asked if you knew the Bangston twins."

Mayo nodded.

"Tell me why you want to know about them," Mayo said.

Jesse told him.

"Living side by side," Mayo said.

"Uh-huh."

Mayo shook his head and smiled again.

"I knew them," he said. "We all knew them. We went to Hempstead, they went to Spirit. But we still hung together. We all believed that Spirit girls were easy… You know how it was in high school."

"Ever hopeful," Jesse said.

Mayo nodded.

"We used to call them the Bang Bang Twins."

"Because they were, in fact, easy?" Jesse said.

"Yes."

"None of my business," Jesse said. "But did you…?"

"Most of us did," Mayo said. "But they had a trick they did."

"Trick," Jesse said.

"You never knew which one you were having sex with."

"On purpose?" Jesse said.

"Yeah, they used to like to switch so one time you'd be with one of them, and next time you would think you were with her and you were with her sister."

"How'd you know?" Suit said.

"When it was over, they'd tell you," Mayo said. "Sometimes they'd take turns with you and make you guess who was who."

"Guess they didn't take all that Catholic stuff too serious," Suit said.

"Their parents did," Mayo said.

"They were famous for this twin sex trick?" Jesse said.

"Yeah, the Bang Bang Twins."

"I wonder why they did it," Jesse said.

"They liked it, I guess," Mayo said. "They were always into the twin thing, you know. I mean, a lot of twins dress different, do their hair different, maybe, different makeup. I mean, they don't want to be exactly the same."

"The Bang Bangs did?" Jesse said.

"They wanted to be identical," Mayo said. "When we were in grammar school they always came to school in the same outfits, same hair, everything."

"So their mother probably wanted them to look alike," Jesse said.

"I guess."

"Know the parents?"

"Not really. Old man was a contractor. He's dead now. They got a lot of money. Big house on the water. Big into church stuff. Probably guilt."

"About what?" Jesse said.

"Old man was always kind of a sleaze. Never got convicted. But a lotta talk about not meeting the specs for his construction deals. Lotta talk about sweetheart deals with the state. Stuff like that. Lotta people say he fooled around."

"How'd he die?" Jesse said.

"Heart attack," Mayo said. "On a business trip to Cleveland. I think he was in the saddle at the time."

"How about the mother?" Jesse said.

"Mother's still around."

"Can you take us over there?" Jesse said.

"Sure," Mayo said.

MRS. BANGSTON WAS a brusque woman, not tall but erect. Her hair was iron-gray. She had pince-nez glasses, and she reminded Jesse of his elementary-school principal. They sat in the living room of her big glass-fronted modern home looking out over Hempstead Bay. It seemed totally out of keeping with the white-clapboard/weathered-shingle look of the town. It was out of keeping with the furnishings as well, which were overstuffed Victorian everywhere that Jesse could see. It was as if her husband had built the outside and she had furnished the inside without regard to each other.

"I did not know that Roberta's husband had died," she said. "I am sorry to hear it, and sorrier still that he was murdered."

"No one told you?" Jesse said.

"No."

"Perhaps they wanted to spare you," Jesse said.

"My girls call every Christmas and Easter," Mrs. Bangston said. "I get flowers every Mother's Day. I forward their mail."

"After all these years?" Jesse said.

"Yes, they still get mail here."

"Do you see much of them?" Jesse said.

"Not very much," she said. "They are dutiful, but nothing more."

"Do you know their husbands?"

"I have never met either," Mrs. Bangston said.

"Not even at the weddings?" Jesse said.

"No."

There were some rosary beads on the coffee table in front of where she sat. She looked at them.

"You weren't at the weddings?" Jesse said.

"No."

"Either wedding," Jesse said.

"No."

"Were you invited?" Jesse said.

"Yes."

"But?"

"I did not approve of the men they were marrying," Mrs. Bangston said.

"What did you disapprove of?" Jesse said.

"They were both criminals," Mrs. Bangston said.

"How did you know that?" Jesse said.

"My husband told me."

"He knew these men?"

"I don't know," Mrs. Bangston said. "My husband knew a great many people. Business was his sphere; mine was home and family."

"Your husband did business with the men your daughters married?"

"I don't know."

"Do you know how they met their husbands?"

"I do not," she said.

She leaned forward and picked up her rosary beads from the coffee table and held them in her left hand.

"They had the finest religious education we could give them. Holy Spirit High School. Paulus College. They made their First Communion side by side in identical white dresses. They were confirmed together… and they married criminals."