Free Death in Vineyard Waters by Philip Craig Page B

for a detail I never found. And now I read the Gazette from end to end and didn’t find it there either. I thought about it as I watched the day dim into evening and the distant beach-goers gather their umbrellas and pull in their kites and reluctantly depart for their vacation homes. It occurred to me that I was probably making something out of nothing, that others would have asked the question in my mind, and having asked it, must have gotten a satisfactory answer in reply.
    I climbed down off the balcony and made myself a refrigerator soup: all of the leftover vegetables and meats in the fridge mixed together, simmered in a bit of bouillon and wine, and served with homemade white bread. Delicious! I had seconds and then drank two Cognacs while I listened to the news and heard about a lot of things, but didn’t hear anything of the detail I hadn’t found in the papers.
    Later, reading in bed, I somehow got to thinking about ice cubes, about how, when I saw that the ice cube container in the freezer was getting low, I would break the ice cube trays into it until it was full, so I wouldn’t have to do itagain for a while, but that Zee would only put in as many cubes as she needed right then.
    The next morning, I was up at three and at Wasque at four and back home again by seven and downtown by nine, looking for the chief of police.

6
    The chief was, typically, not in his office. When a town of 2,500 winter souls becomes a town ten times that big in the summer, nobody in the police department has much time to sit in the office except, in this case, Kit Goulart, ace woman-of-all-work, who was there five days a week making sure the system worked as well as possible.
    â€œNice badge,” I said, eyeing it appreciatively.
    â€œIf there was a law against leering, you’d be a lifer,” said Kit.
    â€œChief in?”
    â€œHe’s on Main Street someplace,” said Kit.
    â€œIf I was chief, I’d stay right here,” I said, staring at her badge with wide eyes.
    â€œGet out of here!”
    â€œWill you marry me?”
    â€œI already have one more husband than I can manage.”
    â€œI doubt that,” I said as I left. I liked Kit. She and her husband Joe looked like twins, both six feet tall and weighing 250 or so. A matched team.
    The chief was at the corner of Main and Water Street, watching a young summer rent-a-cop directing traffic. She wasn’t doing too badly, either, and so the chief had time for me. We leaned against the wall of the bank and watched the cars creep by.
    â€œWhy they’re here on a day like this, instead of at the beach, I’ll never know,” he said. He’d been saying that as long as I’d known him.
    I didn’t know either. “They’re city people,” I said. “They’re uncomfortable unless they’re in traffic jams. They feel unnatural at the beach because there’s so much room there and so much clean air. They like exhaust fumes and horns honking and so they drive around Edgartown all day, down Main, back out past the A & P, around the Square Rigger and back past the A & P to Main Street again. It gives them a sense of using their vacations in a meaningful way. Everybody knows that.”
    â€œNow that we’ve cleared that up,” said the chief, “we come to a tougher question. What are you doing here? You hide out in the woods all summer and only come into civilization for booze.”
    â€œYou wound me. Only last week I was at the library . . .”
    â€œAstonishing. I didn’t know that you could read.”
    â€œYou’re confusing me with Edgartown policemen. I’m famous for my comic book collection, and when they’re off work, all your crew come by to look at the pictures and ask me what the little letters say. I’m thinking of charging tuition.”
    â€œNot a bad idea,” said the chief. “From the look of some of their reports, they could use