“I know exactly who you are, Mrs. Henshaw. And I’m sure Mr. Gordon will be very happy to see you. He’s being held on the ground floor. Well, it’s actually a basement. I’d be happy to take you there.”

“But your party-” Susan began.

“Is drawing to a close. One of our colleagues is getting married and moving back to the mainland. We’re celebrating his good fortune and mourning his coming sadness.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Everyone is happy to see him married, but we will miss him and he will miss the island. This is a remarkable place to live, Mrs. Henshaw-not for everyone, no doubt-but those of us who fit in here have found something special, and most of us feel a keen sense of loss when forced to give it up.” She smiled and then pointed down the hallway. “I’m neglecting my manners. I’m Frances Adams. I’m the highest-ranked United States government employee on the island.”

“Then you’re the woman who managed to have Jerry imprisoned here rather than in the local jail,” Susan said.

“Yes. Don’t give me too much credit. The police department here is unwilling to antagonize the wealthier people on the island, some of whom are the owners of the few places we have like Compass Bay. They were happy to have our help. If anything goes wrong during Mr. Gordon’s incarceration, they will not be to blame.”

Susan walked behind Frances Adams and considered her elegance and style. Susan had always admired women who didn’t deny their age by dyeing their hair and then wearing it in a puffy, short, middle-aged style, but flaunted their streaks of gray and managed to turn them into something individual and even sexy. She doubted if she would have the nerve to adopt the style herself, but she admired those who did. “Well, I’m glad you helped Jerry. I understand the jail here is pretty awful.”

“Worse than awful.” Frances Adams turned a corner and started down a wide stone stairway, worn by many decades of use. “How is your investigation coming? Have you found any other viable suspects… if you don’t mind my asking,” she added when Susan didn’t answer immediately.

“I don’t mind you asking, but I was just wondering how you know I’m looking into Allison’s murder.”

“Mr. Gordon told me. He says you have solved murders in the States. I believe he is counting on you to get him out of this situation.”

Susan began to chew off her lipstick. “I’m doing the best I can, but… The problem is that I know Jerry and I know Kathleen, his wife now, and I knew his first wife, June. June was Allison’s sister and I thought I knew Allison. I mean the Allison I knew then isn’t the Allison that I met here.”

“Are you saying you believe someone borrowed her identity? That she isn’t who she claimed to be?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. It’s just that she’s so different from when I used to know her. There’s probably nothing odd about it at all. People do change.”

“Do you think so? In my experience very few people do change. Not really. Oh, they may look different and many of them claim to be different, but underneath it all they remain the same. It takes an unusual person to actually become someone other than who they started out to be. But you may know much more interesting people than I come across on this little island.”

Susan doubted it. She tried to explain. “I know what you mean-sort of-but the Allison I knew years ago wouldn’t have inspired enough feeling for someone to have killed her. She was… almost negligible. I know that doesn’t sound very nice, but…”

“It doesn’t, but it does make sense. Certainly a person who is murdered must be a person who inspired strong passions-in the killer if no one else.”

Susan had never considered this before. They had arrived at the bottom of the stairway. Four uniformed men were sitting around a makeshift table, playing cards. Another man, cradling a large gun in his arms, leaned on the wall next to a metal door. “Is Jerry in there?” Susan asked, nodding toward the door.

“Yes. It’s not as bad inside as it looks. Decades ago that space was used to store valuables traveling through the island-rum, spices, precious metals, and the like. It’s secure, but airy.

“Why don’t I ask if Mr. Gordon can see you now?”

“I’d appreciate that,” Susan answered.

Frances Adams smiled at the armed guard and approached slowly. They spoke for a few minutes. Frances pointed to Susan, the guard looked at her, and Susan looked back. The guard pointed at the cardplayers, who looked around and smiled. Susan smiled back at them and then at the guard. By the time they had all greeted each other, everyone was smiling except for the guard with the gun.

Frances Adams left the guard and walked back to Susan, who thought the smile on Frances’s face now looked a bit forced. “You can see him, but the guard at the door is not happy with all Mr. Gordon’s visitors. He said that usually prisoners can only be seen by their lawyer and their family. I told him you were almost family, but it didn’t help. May I suggest you keep this visit as short as possible?”

“I will,” Susan assured her as the guard turned and, with much clanking of old-fashioned skeleton keys, unlocked the door and stood aside for her to enter.

“I’m needed upstairs,” Frances Adams said. “When you leave, just follow that corridor.” She pointed toward a long stone hallway. “It will lead you back to the front of the building. Please call me if you have any questions… or problems,” she added, looking over toward the armed guard.

“I will,” Susan said, and quickly entered the doorway. The guard followed close on her heels.

Much to Susan’s surprise, the room was spacious and light. Stone walls had been stuccoed and painted a soft turquoise. The wall opposite the door boasted three large windows with magnificent views of the sea and some small islands in the distance. The bars on the windows didn’t interfere with the beauty of the scene. Although sparsely furnished with a narrow bed, a small table, and two chairs, the room was still attractive and almost cheerful. Jerry was sitting on one of the chairs, which had been drawn up in front of the window on the right, but he rose to greet her with a huge smile on his face.

“Susan, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

Susan reached out to hug him and was stunned when the guard grabbed her hands. “Ow!”

“We’re not allowed to touch,” Jerry said sadly. “She doesn’t know the rules,” he explained to the guard. “She won’t do it again.”

“No, I won’t,” Susan assured him, trying to control her nervousness and her temper. Her wrist was stinging as a result of the man’s rough handling.

“You only have a few minutes,” he growled, and leaned back against the door, replicating his former position outside the room.

“Sit down. I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to see you,” Jerry said.

“I’ve wanted to see you, too. I-”

“Susan, I’ve been thinking. About my life and my past, and I think that Kathleen and June are very much alike.”

“Really… I-”

“Yes. In fact, I’m sure of it. The more I think about it the surer I am.”

“Well-”

“Of course, you could say the only thing they had in common is that they were both married to me, and that’s true, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but-”

“But I believe their situation made them alike in many, many ways.”

Susan realized she wasn’t going to be allowed to speak a full sentence unless she interrupted. “Kathleen isn’t-”

“She’s much more like June than it may appear at first glance,” Jerry said firmly and loudly. “You must realize that she and June are in the same situation, and the end result could be the same.”

“You mean Kathleen might die in an accident?” Susan was completely perplexed.

“No talk about death. Visit is at an end,” the guard said, putting his gun between Jerry and Susan to emphasize his point.

“But-” Susan cried out.