“Someone has to look after the animals,” Elcott protested. “And I want to help search. For whoever it was killed them. I want to be there when you find this bastard.”

“That's to your credit,” Miller answered him. “But for now, I'd go with the doctor if I was you. I'll see to the beasts, and there'll be someone to care for them tomorrow. Leave everything to us. As soon as we know anything, I'll see you're told.”

Elcott walked to the barn door and stepped outside, unable to turn away from the silent house just across the yard. “I wish I knew why, ” he said, his voice ragged with grief. “I just wish I knew why. What had they ever done to deserve-?”

“That'll come out,” Miller told him calmly, soothingly. “In good time.”

Elcott followed Jarvis to the horse-drawn carriage that had brought the doctor out to the isolated farm. The only tracks in the snow were theirs, a hodgepodge of footprints around the kitchen door of the house, and the wheel markings of the two vehicles, cart and carriage. Beyond these, the ground was smoothly white, with only the brushing of the wind and the prints of winter birds scratching for whatever they could find.

As if only just realizing that the cart was his, Elcott stopped and said, “Dr. Jarvis-I can't-”

“Leave it for Sergeant Miller, if you will. He'll bring it back to town later. I expect he'll need it tonight.”

“Oh-yes.” Dazed, Elcott climbed into the carriage and settled himself meekly on the seat, stuffing his cold hands under his arms.

B y the time Inspector Greeley had completed his examination of the Elcott farmhouse, he was absolutely certain of one thing. He needed help.

Five dead and one missing, believed dead.

It was beyond comprehension-beyond the experience of any man to understand.