"Not really. I'm looking for a woman who lived next door when it happened. She left town a couple of days afterward and hasn't been seen since then by the people who count. I keep thinking there's a connection. I was hoping you'd tell me there was a great big policy in effect."

"The cops had the same idea. Your buddy Lieutenant Dolan was over here practically sitting in my lap for days. I kept saying, 'Forget it! The guy's broke. He's not going to net a dime.' I guess I finally convinced him because I haven't heard from him since. What are you thinking, that Grice and this doll next door were in cahoots?"

"It did cross my mind. I haven't met him yet and I have no idea whether there could have been a relationship between them, but it does look suspect. From what I'm told, she left town abruptly and she was upset. My first instinct was that maybe she'd seen something and took off to avoid getting caught up in it."

"Maybe so." Vera sounded dubious.

"But you don't believe it."

"I'm just looking at his end. If the guy killed his wife for fun and profit, he sure went about it wrong. Why let a policy lapse like that? If he were smart, he'd have jacked the face value up two-three years ago, let enough time pass so it didn't look too obvious and then... whap, his wife is dead and he collects. If he killed her with no payoff, he's an idiot."

"Unless he just wanted her out of his way. Maybe that was all he cared about. Maybe letting the policy lapse was a ploy."

"Hey, listen, what do I know? I'm not a homicide dick."

"Me neither. I'm just trying to figure out why this woman disappeared and where she might have gone. Even if you're right and Grice had nothing to do with it, she still might have witnessed something. This burglar business sounds too tidy for words."

Vera smiled cynically. "Hell, maybe she did it herself."

"God, you're more suspicious than I am."

"Well, you want Grice's number? I got it somewhere here." Vera paused to toss the tag end of her cigarette into the Coke bottle. There was a quick spitting sound as the ember touched the thimbleful of Coke that remained. She extracted a file from the bottom of a stack and found the telephone number and the address.

"Thanks," I said.

She gave me a speculative look. "You interested in an unemployed aerospace engineer? He's got bucks. He invented some little dingus they use now in all the satellites."

"How come you don't want him?" I asked. Vera tended to offer up her rejects like hostess gifts.