A Vineyard Killing by Philip R. Craig Page B

jobs and promise to stay at them until Labor Day, but in mid-August they would quit so they could spend the last two weeks of the summer enjoying sun, surf, sand, and sex before heading back to school.
    I asked her for the landlord’s name and address.
    She gave me a curious look. “You going to rent this dump?”
    â€œNo. I’m just trying to find John Reilley.”
    â€œHe in some kind of trouble? You some kind of cop?”
    â€œHe isn’t in any trouble that I know of. He used to live here, and I’d like to find him. It’s just a personal matter.”
    She gave me the landlord’s name and address and I walked back down the stairs through the rain.
    The landlord was a realtor who had an office on Main Street. Since it was March I actually found a parking space not far away.
    In the office I learned that John Reilley hadn’t lived in the apartment for years. He’d rented it for one winter then moved out in June. The people in the office had no idea where he lived now.
    I walked up to the Vineyard Haven National Bank and went into Hazel Fine’s office. Hazel was wearing bankers’ clothes adorned with a simple lapel pin in the shape of a scallop shell. Her dark hair looked newly cut and shaped. She rose, smiling, when I peeked in her door.
    â€œJ.W.! Come in. How’s the family?”
    â€œEverybody’s fine. Both kids are in school, Zee’s at the hospital, and I’m the only one with time to wander around and interrupt bankers at work. I can see that you’re doing well. How’s Mary?”
    Hazel and Mary Coffin had lived together for years in a house within walking distance of the bank. They were a happy, creative pair who had played Baroque music at Zee’s and my wedding. Hazel was my contact with the world of banking and finance, about which I knew next to nothing and would never know more, being afflicted with the equivalency of color blindness with regard to money. I just didn’t get it.
    Hazel waved me to a chair. “Mary’s just fine and you always were good at avoiding steady work. So Joshua and Diana are both in school. Boy, time does fly, doesn’t it? What brings you out in this weather? You need a loan?”
    â€œNo, I’m too cheap to need a loan. I never buy anything that costs enough for me to have to borrow money. What I want is an opinion and some information.”
    â€œI’m strong on opinion. Let’s start there.”
    â€œWhat do you think of this business with Donald Fox? Is he actually going to be able to get his hands on island properties by doing what he’s doing?”
    She put her slender fingers together. “Did he make an offer on your place?”
    â€œHis agent did. Albert Kirkland, the guy who got himself killed behind the Fireside a couple of days back.”
    She frowned. “Does that put you on the suspect list?”
    I shrugged. “I think everybody’s on the list right now.”
    â€œDid Kirkland make the usual pitch? An offer to buy your place for a quarter of what it’s worth and a threat to take it for even less if you don’t sell?”
    â€œThat’s the normal Saberfox MO, as I understand it. Is it a legit business practice?”
    She allowed herself a thin smile. “Legit business practices are any practices that work, as far as the businessmen who practice them are concerned. Sometimes the courts take a different view, but as far as I know Donald Fox is doing just fine. He’s got more high-powered lawyers than the federal government and they’ve fended off everybody who’s had the nerve to think about suing Fox.”
    â€œMy impression is that he always bluffs first.”
    â€œI think that’s right. He stays away from people with as much money and as many lawyers as he has, but he comes on strong and tries to scare normal people into selling. When that works, it saves him both money and time. But if it