“I know you're not. But you will. Did she have other friends who'll be going?”

“Yes. Half a dozen or more. I'm going by myself, starting a little early, so I can talk to some people about a related case.”

Ev nodded. “I know about the related case,” he said, “and I guess you know about me. Or think you do.”

“Mr Hillman-”

“I have talked foolishly, and to the wrong people, and at the wrong times,” Ev said in that same calm voice. “Under other circumstances I would known better, but I've been upset. One of my grandsons is missing. The other is in a sort of coma.”

“Yes. I know.”

“I've been so confused I haven't really known if I was comin” or goin”. So I blabbed to some of the nurses, and then I went up to Bangor and talked to a reporter. Bright. I kind of got the idea you'd heard most of the things I had to say to him.”

“I understand you believe there was some sort of… of conspiracy in the matter of David Brown's disappearance-”

Ev had to struggle to keep from laughing. The word was both bizarre and apt. He never would have thought of it himself. Oh, there was a conspiracy going on, all right. One hell of a conspiracy.

“Yessir. I believe there was a conspiracy, and I think you've got three cases that are a lot more related than you understand-the disappearance of my grandson, the disappearance of those two troopers, and the death of Ruth McCausland-my friend as well as yours.”

Dugan looked a bit startled… and for the first time that dismissive look went out of his eyes. For the first time Ev felt that Dugan was really seeing him. Everett Hillman, instead of just some crazy old rip who had blown in to fart away part of his morning.

“Perhaps you'd better give me the gist of what you believe,” Dugan said, and took out a pad of paper.

“No. You can just put that pad away.”

Dugan looked at him silently for a moment. He didn't put the pad away, but he put down the pencil.

“Bright thought I was crazy, and I didn't tell him half of what I thought,”

Ev said, “so I ain't going to tell you any. But here's the thing-I think David's still alive. I don't think he's in Haven anymore, but I think if I went back there I might be able to get an idea on where he is. Now, I have reasons-pretty good ones, I think-to believe that I'm not wanted in Haven. I have reasons to think that if I went back there under most circumstances, I'd most likely disappear like David Brown. Or have an accident like Ruth.”

Butch Dugan's face changed. “I think,” he said, “I got to ask you to explain that, Mr Hillman.”

“I ain't going to. I can't. I know what I know, and believe what I believe, but I ain't got a speck of proof. I know how crazy I must sound, but if you look into my face, you'll know one thing, at least: I believe what I'm saying.”

Dugan sighed. “Mr Hillman, if you were in this business, you'd know how sincere most liars look.” Ev started to say something and Dugan shook his head. “Forget that. Cheap shot. I've only had about six hours” sleep since Sunday night. I'm getting too old for these marathons. Fact is, I do believe you're sincere. But you're only making ominous sounds, talking around the edges of things. Sometimes people do that when they're scared, but mostly they do it when edges are all they have. Either way, I haven't got time to woo you. I answered your questions; maybe you'd better state your business.”

“Glad to. I came here for two reasons, Trooper Dugan. First one was to make sure there was going to be a lot of cops in Haven tomorrow. Things are less likely to happen when there are a lot of cops around, don't you agree?”

Dugan said nothing, only looked at Ev expressionlessly.

“Second was to tell you I'll be in Haven tomorrow too. I won't be at Ruth's funeral, though. I'm going to have a Very pistol with me, and if, during that funeral, you or any of your men should see a big old star-shell go off in the sky, you'll know I have run afoul of some of that craziness no one will believe. Do you follow me?”

“You said going back to Haven might be… uh, unhealthy for you.” Dugan's face was still blank, but that didn't matter; Ev knew he had gone back to his original idea: Ev was crazy, after all.

“Under most circumstances, I said. Under these circumstances, I think I can get away with it. Ruth was loved in Haven, which is a fact I don't think I have to tell you. Most of the town will turn out to see her into the ground. I don't know if they still loved her when she died, but that don't matter-they'll turn out anyway.”

“How do you figure that?” Dugan asked. “Or is that another one of those things you don't want to talk about?”

“No, I don't mind. lt would look wrong if they didn't turn out.”

“To who?”

“To you. To the other policemen who were friends to her and her husband. To the pols from the Penobscot County Democratic Committee. Why, “twouldn't surprise me if Congressman Brennan sent someone up from Augusta-she worked awful hard for him when he run for office in Washington. She wasn't just local, y'see, and that's part of what they got to deal with.

They're like people who don't want to throw a party but who are stuck doing it just the same. I'm hoping they'll be so busy making things look right-with putting on a good show-that they'll not even know I've been in Haven until I'm gone.”

Butch Dugan crossed his arms over his chest. Ev had been close to the truth-at first Dugan had indulged himself in the fancy that David Bright, who was usually an extremely accurate interpreter of human behavior, had been wrong this time; Hillman was as sane as he was. Now he was mildly disturbed, not because Hillman had turned out to be crazy after all, but because he had turned out to be really crazy. And yet… there was something oddly persuasive in the old man's calm, reasonable voice and his steady gaze.

“You speak as if everyone in Haven was in on something,” Dugan said, land I think that's impossible. I want you to know that.”

“Yes, any normal person would say that. That's how they've been able to get away with it this long. Fifty years ago, people felt like the atomic, bomb was impossible, and they would have laughed at the idea of TV, let alone a video recorder. Not much changes, Trooper Dugan. Most people see as far as the horizon, and that's all. If someone says there's something over it, people don't listen.”

Ev stood up and extended his hand over Dugan's desk, as if he had every right in the world to expect Dugan to shake it. Which surprised Butch into doing just that.

“Well, I knew when I looked at you that you thought I was nuts,” Ev said with a rueful little smile, “and I guess I have said enough to double the idea. But I've found out what I needed to know, and said what I needed to say. Do an old man a favor, and peek at the sky once in a while. If you see a purple star-shell…”

“The woods are dry this summer,” Dugan said, and even as the words came out of his mouth they seemed helpless and oddly unimportant; almost frivolous. And he realized he was being drawn helplessly toward belief again.

Dugan cleared his throat and pushed on.

“If you've really got a flare-gun, using it could start a hell of a forest fire. If you don't have a permit to use such a thing-and I know goddam well you don't-it could get you thrown into jail.”

Ev's grin widened a little, but there was still no humor in it. “If you see the star-shell,” he said, “I got a feeling that being thrown into the pokey up to Bangor is gonna be the least of my worries. Good day to you, Trooper Dugan.”

Ev stepped out and closed the door neatly behind him. Dugan stood for a moment, as perplexed and uneasy as he had ever been in his life. Let him go, he thought, and then got moving.

Something had been troubling Butch Dugan. The disappearance of the two troopers, both of whom he had known and liked, had temporarily driven it out of his mind. Hillman's visit had brought it back, and that was what sent him after the old man.