Free City of Brass by Edward D. Hoch

her hair and pulled it free behind her, billowing out in a beautiful way I remembered from the first time I’d seen her. She was still a pretty girl, though some others might have now considered her a beautiful woman. She was Mrs. Foster Baine … I searched my memory for her first name and finally came up with it.
    “Betty.”
    “What?”
    “Betty Baine. They go together.”
    “Yes,” she answered seriously, “I suppose they do.”
    “Tell me about it?”
    “What is there to tell? He was charming, rich, and in love with me. I was past twenty-five and beginning to look over my shoulder at my youth. One night I just sat alone in my room thinking about it, and I guess I decided to marry the first man who came along. Foster Baine was that man.”
    “Too bad I didn’t come back.” I didn’t really know if I meant it, but it was something to say.
    “You’re married now?”
    I nodded.
    “Children?”
    “No. Shelly—my wife—well …” I stumbled to a lame halt. There was no reason to discuss personal matters with Betty Baine. She’d only been the briefest of shadows in my past, a girl whose very name I’d had trouble remembering.
    “Where did you meet her?”
    “Out west. In a little town called Gidaz. It’s a long story. That’s where I met Simon Ark too.”
    “That strange man who was with you last night …Who is he?”
    “So many times people have asked me that question, and to tell you the truth I still haven’t got the answer. At least I haven’t got an answer that satisfies me. He’s a man, a wanderer, a searcher. Perhaps in a way he is all men, seeking the ultimate truth that can never be found.”
    “Only fools seek truth,” she said. “Others are content with appearances. Life is too short.”
    “It has been longer for Simon Ark,” I said. “He has the time to seek truth.”
    She turned down a narrow street that seemed to be leading out of the city. Gradually the houses grew further apart and soon here and there a farm appeared on the landscape. A cow grazing in a field of high grass, the stalks of corn just beginning their annual spurt of growth …
    “What’s your interest in Cathy Clark?” she asked suddenly.
    “No interest in the girl personally. I only met her once, very briefly. But I’ve known Mahon for several years.”
    “He’s got money,” she said. “So’s his wife. The Clarks were a wealthy family once, and Jean got it all.”
    “You know her?”
    “Not really. She’s a bit under my age group, you know. But of course I’ve heard of her. The whole city knows how she trapped Henry Mahon into marrying her.”
    “They seem happy.”
    “She is a beautiful, wealthy, intelligent girl. He has no complaint.”
    “What about Cathy? I understand she got shortchanged on the money end.”
    Betty Baine gave a slight shrug. “Her sister took good care of her. She always got everything she wanted.”
    It was all country now, with acres of rolling farmland in every direction. I’d always admired upstate New York for this virtue—it could be agricultural when it wanted without the intruding glare of wheat fields by the mile that were so typical of the midwest.
    I was beginning to get restless, though, riding like this toward nowhere with a woman I hardly knew any more. “Would you mind telling me where we are going?”
    She half turned her head toward me. “If it was anyone but you I couldn’t do this. But I feel you’ll understand.”
    “Understand what?” Was she about to seduce me?
    “Foster—my husband—has a great many problems, personal problems. I think it would kill him if they were made public.”
    “I’m not interested in making trouble for your husband, Betty.”
    “You’re interested in Cathy Clark, aren’t you? And in Professor Wilber?”
    “Yes,” I admitted.
    “And don’t you realize that in a city like this all roads of scandal lead directly to our doorstep? Don’t you realize that if Cathy Clark’s killing involves Professor Wilber it