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as the devil was beating his wife, Matthew entered the red-carpeted lobby of the Dock House Inn through a pair of doors with insets of frosted glass It was a handsome structure of red and black brick, three floors tall, built in 1688 where an earlier inn, the Van Pouwelson, had stood before being gutted by a fire The walls within were dark oak, the sturdy furniture crafted for those who appreciated the difference between necessity and comfort In a vaulted alcove stood a spinet adorned with paintings drawn froht&039;s Dream, and used in well-attended concerts played by several localabout the Dock House Inn, from its rich Oriental carpets to its oil portraits of famed New York business leaders, spoke of affluence and influence It was difficult to realize that less than a hundred yards froainst the pilings and rats skittered under the boots of the sweating cargo crews

Matthew had worn his best dark blue suit, white cravat, white shirt, and silver-buttoned waistcoat for his interview today with Mrs Herrald The rain that had showered from a sunny sky-the tears of the Devil&039;s wife as she was being beaten, said the Dutch folk-had ed to catch him on Broad Street, just around the corner His hair was drenched and his coat soaked across the shoulders, for thus had been the weather this day as clouds had passed before the sun, spat rain upon the town, and athered, and the Devil&039;s wife had cried again, and on and on since

He had no time now to concern hih that he on had snarled cart and pedestrian traffic on his route and disrupted his schedule enough to throw him at least three minutes late Four tiistrate Powers had eaten lunch, and the Dock House Inn he&039;d been stopped by acquaintances ished to know ht before Of course it seemed everyone in town knew about the murder of Mr Deverick, to the extent that Mattheas left wondering of what use was a proper broadsheet ord-of-mouth travelled at such speed Even theMuckleroy, at ten o&039;clock this , had been more constant in her inquiries about thethe stolen bedsheets In truth, the istrate had been so disturbed by Matthew&039;s story-and the evidence that the so-called "Masker" had done another deed-that he barely seemed able to focus on the woman&039;s responses

Powers had wished Matthew luck but had offered no further infor his appointer across his teeth to clear away any remnant of the codfish pie he&039;d eaten, and approached the elaborately bewigged Mr Vincent at the ledger desk, behind which a penduluns showed Matthew as indeed being three minutes late

"Matthew Corbett to see Mrs Katherine Herrald," Matthew said

"Mrs Herrald is waiting in the parlor," came the stiff answer, from the rather stiff-necked proprietor "That way" He flicked a finger

"Thank you"

"Uhoneman Have I heard correctly that you were fresh on the scene of that tragedy last nighti"

"I was, sir, but please pardon o" as he spoke, Mattheas already on his way toward the other side of the lobby, where two steps led up to a closed set of double doors and the parlor beyond

"Mind that you stop back by when you&039;re done!" What ht have been a request became a command when spoken by the iood friend to the Dock House!"

Matthealked up the steps, started to open the doors but then decided to knock first

"Enter," came a woht He took a deep breath and went in

If the lobby was refined, the parlor was opulent with its s, its stone fireplace with a saht of a paned glassfrom which one could view the shipmasts and harbor activity just beyond This was the roo London, areater Europe reements On a desk under an artist&039;s landscape of New York was a row of quill pens in leather sheaths, and it was the dark red-upholstered chair of this desk where the woman sat, turned to view the doorway

She stood up as Matthew entered, which took hientlewo her hand-or the quick flip of a painted fan-as a gesture of recognition But then she was on her feet and Matthe she was almost as tall as himself He halted his approach to offer a courteous bow

"You are late," the woman said, in a quiet voice that was not as accusatory as si the honest stateht perhaps two seconds about offering an excuse, but he decided the fact spoke for itself "I apologize"

"Then again, you did have an interesting night, did you noti I&039;ht have had sohti"

"Mr Vincent informed me It seems Mr Deverick was a well-respected individual"

"Yes, he was"

"Unfortunately, however," said Mrs Herrald with a slight pause, "not so well-liked" She loved hand toward a chair situated to her left "Would you sit here, pleasei"

as Matthew sat down, Mrs Herrald seated herself and so Matthew had a few seconds to coun as soon as he&039;d entered the roooith small white ruffles at the throat and over it a deep purple jacket accented with gold buttons On her head was a cocked riding-hat, the saoith no feather or ornamentation She was a trim woman, about fifty years old, her features sharp and her blue eyes clear and unwavering as she also took in her exae around her eyes and across her forehead yet there was nothing aged about her, for she was straight-backed and elegant and seeray hair, with streaks of pure white at the temples and at a pronounced &039;s-peak, was fashionably coolden geegaws as Matthew had seen done by many older women of means and there was no doubt she was a woman of means; to book an accommodation at the Dock House one had to haveabout Mrs Herrald-the lift of the square chin, the cool appraisal of the intelligent eyes, the confidence the woman seereater privileges of the world Tucked at her side was a small black leather case, the kind in which Matthew had seen wealthytheir important contracts and introduction letters

"What do you think of mei" she asked

The question took him aback, but he kept his composure "I suppose I should ask what you think of ether The expression in her eyes was not altogether lackinge here, and you wish to advance in the world but at present you don&039;t know your next step I think you are well-read, thoughtful, trustworthy though a bit lacking in your organization of tih I always consider late to be better than never-and I think you are older than your years would proclaim In fact, I think you&039;ve never really been a youth, have youi"

Matthew didn&039;t reply Of course he knew she&039;d gotten all this froistrate Powers, but he was interested in the road she was travelling

Mrs Herrald paused, waiting for his response Then she nodded and went on "I think you have always felt responsible For whom or what, I don&039;t know But responsible to others, in some way That&039;s why you&039;ve never been a youth, Mr Corbett, for responsibility ed It unfortunately also separates one from his peers Sets him apart, causes him to perhaps retreat inward even more than the hardships of life already have Therefore, without true friends or a sense of his place in the world, he turns to still further serious and steadying influences Voracious reading, say The ined problems that ined problehtto no resolution Froins to wander a path that leads to a very bleak and unrewarding future Do you agreei"

Matthew not only had no answer, but he was also aware that he wasn&039;t just da under his ar like a cod on a hook Had the wo about himi He didn&039;t knohether to feel flattered by her attention or flattened by such crushing insights She had to have gone around town discovering his habits! Daht to put on a face of effrontery, rise from his chair, and stalk out of here

But instead he kept his expression mild, his eyes calm, and he stayed where he was

"So do you now have an opinion of mei" she asked, in a buttery voice

"I thinkyou enjoy the process of discovery," he replied, and that was all

"How true," ca at each other as darkness grew in the room, a sudden shower pelted the , the shadows lass

"I am a businesswoman," Mrs Herrald said "I&039;istrate Powers told youi"

"He told me you were in business, yes But not what kind of business, or why you ht be interested in me"

"It&039;s because of your responsibility That&039;s why I&039;m interested Your youth, even your lack of youth Your istrate Woodward"

Matthew couldn&039;t suppress a start Now this istrate Powers told you about that, as welli To what extenti" He remembered his manners "If I may aski"

"Of course He told me the whole story Why would he not, if I askedi It was a difficult time for you, yesi But you certainly kept to your convictions, even though it caused grief to both yourself and to yourshall I call hiiance to hie Did you consider what you were doing a betrayali"

"I considered what I was doing," Matthew said evenly, though he wished to grit his teeth, "as a search for justice"

"and you assumed that in this case you knew istrate Woodwardi"

Matthew looked at his hands and worked his knuckles He could feel Mrs Herrald carefully watching hin of weakness or a flahat had been until noell- steadily and quietly, and in showing not a whit of emotion Then he was ready He looked up and squarely ht," he said, "based on not only the existing evidence but the lack of evidence In my experience-a rather limited experience, as you so correctly point out-soht questions Sometimes the questions easily answered are ht-as it were-I look to the questions that no one else ht ask The unpopular questions The uncivil, impolite questions I harp on they is to drive into the ground those who refuse to anshat I wish to know I grant that I don&039;t have rant that I have perhaps retreated too much into myself, but-" He stopped, because he realized he&039;d walked right into the little devious snare of self-revelation that Mrs Herrald had set out for hiht She broke ed, still in a quiet voice "You were speaking of impolite questions"

"Yes, iather his wits "In Fount Royal, with Magistrate Woodwardeverything wasat the stake I didn&039;tI didn&039;t feel somemanyof the more difficult questions had been answered and yes, he was my mentor My friend, as well ButI couldn&039;t let those unanswered questions lie there I couldn&039;t Not with those townspeople so eager to take her life"

"Her lifei"

"Rachel Howarth was her name The accused woman"

Mrs Herrald nodded and looked out the ard the forest ofyou did this i"

"WellI ate breakfast with the Stokelys I live above their pottery-"

"after that," she interrupted

He frowned, puzzled "Iwalked to work"

"Is that coo so at "I walked down Smith Street to where Mr Deverick&039;s body was found"

"Whyi"

"I wished to see it in daylight To see if therein the dirt thatmay have been left a button, for instance, fro, I suppose"