Not that I was thinking all this. There was no time to think. I heard a car behind me and saw the men from the radio patrol car pass me. I saw Reynolds hand out a rug to cover her, and Andy wave him back. Also I saw Jim arrive and stoop over her. But none of it was real. It became real only when Tony pushed aside the gaping servants inside the door and came out.

It was bitterly cold. The men, including Tony, stood over her, looking down. Jim snapped an order, and Reynolds handed him the rug. The house door was closed, leaving only the five men, including Andy, standing there. I could not see Tony’s face. Jim walked about, looking at the ground. Thomas brought Tony an overcoat and put it on him. In doing so he half turned and saw me. He spoke to Jim, and the two men came over to my car. Tony looked the way I felt, sick. It was Jim who spoke. “Go on back home, Pat,” he said. “You can’t do anything. You’re only in the way.”

“Can’t you take her inside? It’s so cold.”

“We’re waiting for Bill Sterling.”

I shivered. Tony reached into the car and turned on the heater. He had not spoken at all until then. “It won’t help to have you get pneumonia,” he said quietly. “Go on down and get some hot coffee. Better put a little brandy in it.”

They did not want me there. I felt lost in a world of men, men who could handle such matters, men who did not want a girl sitting in a car to watch them, men who were waiting for another man, calmly and unexcitedly, while Bessie lay on the frozen ground.

I turned my car around. There were more men on the road—the stablemen, the chauffeurs, some of the gardeners. They had been kept at a distance by Andy, but there they were, twenty or more of them. Murder was a man’s business. What had Amy said? Everything comes in threes. But the men were not in threes. The men—

“Gus!” Tony called sharply. “Drive Miss Abbott down to the village. Tell Miss Mattie Sprague to put her to bed.”

I was fully conscious, but I was shaking all over. I moved and Gus climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. We passed Bill at the gate. He did not even notice us. Gus looked at me. “If you feel weak, miss, put your head down on your knees.”

I put my head down, and Gus steadied me with one hand. “That’s the ticket,” he said. “Have you home in a jiffy. Car looks kind of loaded up this morning.”

“Trimmings for the Christmas tree,” I told him. Then I burst into tears, which was probably the best thing I could have done. I could feel his big hand patting my back. “Take it easy, miss. It’s shock. Miss Mattie got any liquor?”