Ray came back into the room. Something had happened. Lendon could see it in the taut lines around Ray's mouth, the slight trembling of his hands. He found himself praying: Please, don't let it be bad news.

'Doctor, could you speak with Jonathan for a minute, please?' Ray was making a determined effort to keep his voice even.

'Certainly.' Lendon hurried towards the arched doorway that led into the family and dining-room, sure that the phone call had badly upset Ray.

When he got to the dining-room, Chief Coffin was still on the phone. He was barking orders to the lieutenant on duty at the station: 'Get the hell down to that post office and round up every clerk who was on duty October thirtieth and don't stop questioning them until somebody remembers who picked up that letter from the Community News addressed to J.R. Penrose. I need a full description, and I need it now.' He slammed the receiver into its cradle.

There was new tension in Jonathan too. Without preamble, he said, 'Doctor, we can't lose any time in trying to break through Nancy 's amnesia. To fill you in, 1 have a very complete file on the Harmon case because of a book I'm writing. I've spent the last three hours studying that file and reading the article that appeared in today's paper. Something struck me that seemed of the greatest possible importance, and I asked Chief Coffin to phone the District Attorney in San Francisco and check my theory. His assistant has just returned the call.'

Jonathan reached into his pocket for his pipe, clamped his teeth on it without lighting it and continued, 'Doctor, as you may know, in cases of missing children where foul play is suspected, the police will often deliberately withhold a piece of information so that they have some help in sifting through the inevitable meaningless clues they receive after a publicized disappearance.'

He began to speak more quickly, as though he felt he was letting too much time pass. 'I noticed that all the newspaper accounts seven years ago described the missing children as wearing red cardigan sweaters with a white pattern when they disappeared. Nowhere in any of the extensive newspaper coverage is there an exact description of what that pattern was. I surmised – correctly – that the motif of the pattern had been deliberately withheld.'

Jonathan looked directly at Lendon, wanting him to understand immediately the importance of what he was about to tell him. 'The article which appeared in the Cape Cod Community News clearly states that when the Harmon children disappeared they were wearing red cardigan sweaters with an unusual white sail-boat design, and that they were still wearing them when their bodies were washed ashore weeks later. Now, Nancy, of course, was aware of that sail-boat design. She made those sweaters herself. But only one other person outside of the top people on the San Francisco investigative staff knew about that design.' Jonathan's voice rose in pitch. 'If we assume Nancy 's innocence, that person was the one who kidnapped the Harmon children seven years ago – and who one month ago wrote the story that appeared in today's paper!'

'Then you mean -' Lendon began.

'Doctor, I mean, as Nancy 's lawyer and friend, if you can break through her amnesia, do it – quickly! I have persuaded Ray that it is worthwhile to waive any immunity. The overriding necessity is to find out what Nancy may know; otherwise it will surely be too late to help her children.'

'Can I telephone a drugstore and get something delivered?' Lendon asked.

'You call, Doctor,' Jed ordered. 'I'll send a squad car over to pick up whatever you need. Here – I'll dial the drugstore for you.'

Quietly Lendon phoned his instructions and when he had finished went into the kitchen for a glass of water. Oh, the waste, he thought – the awful waste. The tragedy that had begun with Priscilla's accident… cause and effect… cause and effect. If Priscilla had not died, she probably would have persuaded Nancy not to marry so young. The Harmon children would never have been born. Sharply he pulled himself back from useless speculation. The kitchen had obviously been gone over for fingerprints. Grains of powder were still evident on the counter-tops, around the sink and on the stove. No one had wiped up the stain from where coffee had spilled.

He returned to the dining-room to hear Chief Coffin say, 'Remember, Jonathan, I may well be exceeding my authority as it is. But I'm going to have a tape-recorder on in that room when that girl is questioned. If she confesses to anything under sedation, we may not be able to use it directly, but I'll know what to ask her under regular questioning later.'

'She's not going to confess to anything,' Jonathan said impatiently. 'What concerns me is that if we accept her innocence as a fact – not only about Michael and Missy's disappearance but also her innocence in the murder of the Harmon children – then our next supposition becomes this: if the killer of the Harmon children wrote the article for the Community News and used a Hyannis post office, he has been here on the Cape for some time.'

'And you are saying that he abducted the Eldredge children this morning,' Chief Coffin finished.

Jonathan relit his pipe and puffed at it vigorously before answering. 'I'm afraid so,' he said. His tone of voice, deliberately devoid of expression, made Lendon understand what he meant. Jonathan believed that if the killer of the Harmon children had taken Michael and Missy Eldredge, they were probably dead.

'On the other hand,' Jed theorized, 'if we remove Mrs Eldredge as a suspect, it is equally possible that someone who never came forward at the Harmon trial knew something about these murders, wrote that article and has now kidnapped the Eldredge children. A third possibility is that the two cases are unrelated except that someone reading that article and recognizing Nancy Eldredge has become involved in the disappearance this morning. The children may have been taken by a frustrated mother who feels Nancy doesn't deserve them. I've seen a lot screwier rationalizations than that in my day.'

'Jed,' snapped Jonathan, 'what I'm trying to say is that no matter who else may have become involved, one fact is very clear: I don't believe there's any question but that Nancy knew more than she told about the disappearance of her children seven years ago.'

Lendon raised an eyebrow. Jed frowned deeply. At the expressions on the faces of the two men, Jonathan slapped his hand impatiently on the table. 'I'm not saying that that girl is guilty. I am saying that she knew more than she told; probably knew more than she was aware of knowing. Look at the pictures of her on the witness stand. Her face is an absolute blank. Read the testimony. For God's sake, man, read the trial testimony. That girl was out of it. Her lawyer may have upset her conviction on a technicality, but that doesn't mean that he didn't let that district attorney crucify her. That entire set-up stank, and you're trying to re-enact it here.'

'I'm trying to get away from your theories… and that's all they are… and perform my job, which is to recover those children – dead or alive – and find out who abducted them.' Jed was clearly out of patience. 'In one breath you tell me she's too sick to be questioned and in the next one that she knows more than she ever let on. Look, Jonathan, you said yourself that writing a book about questionable verdicts is a hobby for you. But those lives aren't hobbies with me, and I'm not here to help you play chess with the law.'

'Hold on.' Lendon put a restraining hand on the Chiefs arm. 'Mr Knowles… Jonathan… you believe that whatever knowledge Nancy has of the death of her first family may help us find the Eldredge children.'

'Exactly. But the problem is to extract that knowledge, not drive it deeper into her subconscious. Dr Miles, you are considered an expert in the use of sodium atnytal in psychiatry, are you not?'