“It would be interesting if someone rang them up and asked if they were in the twins’ class on criminal appeals.”

“I suppose they could have been,” Stone admitted.

Dino, who had been reading his own copy of the Times, put it down and looked up. “I’m with Lance on this one,” he said. “The story reeks of the twins.”

“I suppose I caught a whiff of that,” Stone said.

“You’re just giving Lance a hard time. Stop it.”

“Do you think Lance is contrite, for stealing my Times?”

“I am sorry,” Lance said.

“But not contrite?”

“I refer you to the Oxford English Dictionary,” Lance said. “I think you will find that the two words can properly be conflated.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Stone said.

“Does the story move you to action?”

“It’s a moving story,” Stone said. “What action do you suggest?”

“I think you and Dino should go to New Haven and interview the girl.”

“We have no authority to do that,” Stone said.

Lance checked his watch. “I believe you will have in a short while.”

“How long?”

“How long does it take the FedEx truck to travel from the ferry to your house?”

“I suppose it depends on how many packages he has to deliver.”

They heard a beep-beep from the front of the house, and Stone got up. He went outside and came back shortly. “It’s for you, Lance,” he said, tossing a book-size package to Lance from halfway across the room.

Lance caught it, took a small pocketknife from his pocket, and opened it. Inside were two smaller packages. He tossed one to Stone, the other to Dino. “Congratulations,” he said.

“For what?” Dino asked.

“A federal judge has appointed the two of you as United States Marshals.”

Stone and Dino got their packages open. Inside each was a gold badge, a circle around a star.

“You will note that it does not say ‘deputy marshal,’” Lance said. “It is the deputy marshals who do all the real work of the service, investigating, pursuing, arresting, and so forth. The marshals are people like you, honest but shiftless, who want to display some authority. You also have picture IDs.”

Stone examined his ID. “This is my passport photo,” he said. “I know, because I’m wearing a dinner jacket.”

“Why did you wear a dinner jacket for a passport photo?” Dino asked.

“I was on my way to a dinner when I ran into a drugstore to have the picture taken.”

“Now you have the authority to question victims of and witnesses to crimes.”

“Murder is a state crime,” Stone pointed out. “Why would U.S. Marshals have the authority to question a victim?”