“She died in her house,” Galton said heavily. “She was beaten to death. With something rounded and heavy; like a baseball bat.

Catherine went very still and bit the inside of her mouth. Anything she could say would be inadequate.

“Catherine.”

Her eyes were blurry with tears of shock. She blinked and Galton came into focus again. She was warned by the sharpness in his face. Something important was coming up.

“Did you sell any of your father’s equipment to Leona?”

If she had formed any idea of what Galton’s question would be, that was not it.

“What? Why would Leona want anything from the office? I sold almost everything to Jerry.”

“What didn’t you sell to Jerry?”

“Besides those filing cabinets in the attic-” Catherine made an effort to concentrate, but she was too confused to remember. “Leona knew. She did all that, made the list for the lawyer. Father’s estate. I was too upset,” Catherine said miserably. She had always felt some guilt for shoving the task off on Leona, though Leona had certainly been more qualified to do it. “Maybe there’s still the list of stuff for the lawyer? That you could check against what Jerry has now?”

Galton didn’t comment on her weak suggestion, or explain why he had asked her, she noticed uneasily; but the mention of estates had given her something to chew on.

“Is there anything I ought to do? About Leona’s house? Or about having her buried? She didn’t have any kin, you know.” Catherine hated to offer, but knew she had to. It was the least and last thing she could do for Leona.

“Her lawyer, John Daniels, will handle all that, Catherine. She left a will. It’s a few years old; and it’s kind of surprising,” Galton said smoothly. “She left everything-house, money-to your father. Now, I guess, it’ll come to you. John Daniels says for you to call him.”