“There has,” she said. “Quincy Shiffley is damned lucky he was in the Caerphilly Hospital hooked up to a bunch of machines last night. Otherwise he’d be Henry Burke’s prime suspect. He’s a known hothead, and he and Vess had exchanged high words more than once.”

“And you’re worried someone in your family might have been mad enough to do this to Vess?”

“Yes.” She shook her head in dismay. “Quincy and Vess have been sniping at each other for years. And a lot of the family blame Vess for Quincy’s coronary. Never mind the fact that Quincy has spent the past forty years eating, drinking, and smoking too much and ignoring all his doctors’ advice. Just because Quincy keeled over after their latest argument doesn’t mean it was Vess’s fault. And in case you were wondering, yes, Chief Burke knows about the bad blood. I made sure of that, when I told him I was going to recuse myself.”

I wondered how the chief had felt about finding out an as-yet-unidentified Shiffley might be one of his prime suspects. The Shiffleys were a large and very close-knit family. Most of the ones I’d met were honest and law-abiding, and I couldn’t imagine them trying to protect a murderer, even if he was family.

But I didn’t know all the Shiffleys. Every family had its black sheep. And while I wasn’t exactly city folk—an insult that fell somewhere between carpetbaggers and horse thieves in the minds of the locals—I wasn’t originally from around here, either. Maybe I wasn’t in the best position to judge what one Shiffley would do for another.

“Chief’s got to get to the bottom of this one,” the judge said softly. “If he can’t figure out who killed Mr. Vess, those boys are going to have suspicion hanging over them the rest of their natural lives.”

I nodded and sipped the last of my eggnog. Then after a diplomatic pause I got to my feet.

“I’d love to stay—” I began.

“But you have a million things to do and I’ve already taken too much of your time,” she said.

“On the contrary, you’ve given me a very relaxing break,” I said. “And since you’re constrained by your office from asking too many people what’s going on, if I find out anything interesting, maybe I’ll drop by for a little more eggnog.”

“It’s a deal,” she said. “And bring the boys next time. The dogs love playing with kids.”

Halfway back to town my cell phone rang: Michael. I pulled over and answered it.

“And where are you and the boys and Granny Waterston?” I asked. “Still skating?”