The young black officer nodded officiously. «That's partly true, Mrs. Barrett. We do suspect that a lot of these break-ins and muggings lately have been the work of addicts from Washington. I don't know whether they make the ride out in carpools though … it might look a little suspicious. All those blacks in Valley Farms would stand out like …»

The senior officer cleared his throat meaningfully. «What he means, ma'am, is that maybe we had better get on with the report. If the burglar who tried to get in here is still around, we might spot him on the street. Anyone out at this hour is usually up to no good.»

«Oh, I do agree, Officer! I think there ought to be a curfew, except for decent folks, don't you? I mean, what business do all these young people have out at this hour?»

«Yes, ma'am, you're quite right.»

«Mrs. Barrett,» interrupted the black officer. «How would you propose to tell the 'decent folks' from the troublemakers?»

«Why, I … well, I don't know all the details. That's for smarter people than I to work out.»

Officer Manners shot his junior partner a look that could have cut glass. «Let's go on with the report. Tell me exactly, in your own words what happened.»

Lucy Barrett returned with the coffee on a silver tray complete with creamer and sugar bowl, and both the young police officers rose and nodded their thanks courteously. She leaned precariously close to them as she placed the tray on the coffee table at their knees; Officer Manners cleared his throat again for something to do and managed, finally, to get his eyes back on his note pad.

«Officers, the report?» the older woman dropped her words like lead weights; since Lucy's unintentionally dramatic entrance she had lost her audience. And Kate Barrett did not appreciate being upstaged by another woman, even if she was her own flesh and blood. «Could we continue?» she said icily, her thin veneer of charming hospitality washed away like so much make-up.