"All of them have daughters, Sam. And none of them have husbands. Why did none of them have husbands? Or sons?"

"Never thought of it. It's been a glorious year, Roy. My only regret is that I will not live to see the winter that will surely be the climax to this radiant autumn. We have had so much - we cannot expect to have everything. Do you not just love deep snow over you?"

"It's like the blanket of heaven, Sam. When the last of us is gone - and it won't be too long now - do you think the girls will remember how much light they brought into our lives?"

SEVEN STORY DREAM.

Gadberry had a contempt for dawns badly done. He knew how blatant and stylized the outdoor world can be in its pristine moments: the contrived shagginess of grass, the stupidity of trees, the falsity of flowers, the oafishness of the birds and their inept melody. These scratched the smooth surface of his soul. "Bad work, very bad work," Cadbeny would opine, for he was an artist.

Yet there were times when these sorry units arranged themselves with striking effect. On this very early dawn they made an almost perfect harmony, and Gadberry gracefully acknowledged it. There it was: the old oaks, and the new firs and hedges:, the ragged Bermuda on the vacant lot in the new sun, the thin rye grass that held to the shade of the building, the corpse on the lawn, the row of hollyhocks and the lone aster in the middle of them, the drooping mimosa full of driveling birds, the even rank of garbage cans standing chalky in the aluminum dawn, and that damned dew over everything.

In spite of the elements that went into the composition the effect was near perfect -- and yet there was one clashing entity in that aubade scene.

Gadberry reviewed it in his mind, for the artist is satisfied with nothing but perfection.

The firs, the hedges, the corpse, the mimosa, the garbage cans, the lawn, the hollyhocks with their lone aster -- something was in that peaceful morning scene that simply did not belong there.

Gadberry strode over and savagely struck down the aster with its white flower. The harmony of the scene was now perfect. He walked away, his artist's soul satisfied.

On his way to find an early eating place, he met a policeman named Embree and told him that Minnie Jo Merry was lying dead on that little lawn behind the apartment where she lived, and perhaps it should be looked into.

Captains Keil and Gold were there quickly and in charge. Minnie Jo was bruised about the throat and dried blood framed her mouth, but her death may have been caused by a violent concussion. Keil and Gold left her to Dr.

Sanderson and their men. There was no crowd. This was very early on a Saturday morning, the apartment was on a quiet street, and the small rear lawn was secluded.

Orders were given for all the residents of the apartment building to remain in the building, and Captain Keil sent for Gillord Gadberry, the only one who had left. Gadberry told the patrolman who came for him that he would come as soon as he had finished his breakfast, and not a moment before. He finished it leisurely, drinking coffee and sketching while the policemanfumed. He was sketching a fuming policeman.

"Mrs. Raffel," Captain Keil said, "you are the owner and operator of this apartment. I assume that you know something of your renters. Who lives here?"

"Minnie Jo lived here, and how will I get her rent now? She used to say, 'You worry too much about my rent. I'm not much further back than some of the others. You should know that I'm good for it. As long as I live I will always be good for what I owe.' But now who will be good for what she owes?"

"Your problem, Mrs. Raffel. Who else lived -- lives here?"

"Dillahunty, Gadberry, Handle, Izzard, Lamprey, Nazworthy, all in a permanent or temporary state of singleness."

"Six living and one dead tenant. Is that all?"

"It's a small place, but I do have two other empty units-three it will be now. I doubt if this will help me rent them."

"It may not make a difference. The girl was murdered in her own room, we believe, and she seems to have made no outcry. She was either taken very suddenly, or she knew the intruder well."

"Not necessarily, Captain. Minnie Jo was a very open person. If Jack the Ripper himself had come in, red from his trade, she'd have said, 'Hi, honey, sit down and talk to me.' But it was probably someone she knew."

"What are your feelings on hearing of the death of Miss Merry?"

"Satisfaction -- though I'll miss her -- and relief and thankfulness that it has finally turned out all right."

"Turned out all right? Do you call it turning out all right that she was murdered?" he asked her.

"Oh yes. There were many worse things that could have happened to her.

How lucky that Minnie Jo was killed before they happened!"

"You will have to explain that. Did you hate her?"

"No, I loved her -- and I will explain. Minnie Jo was quite a good girl, but she was on the edge of becoming quite a bad girl. I have seen it happen to so many of the young ones who are loose in the world. Every time I know one, and notice her nearing the change, I pray that something will intervene and prevent it. This is the first time my prayers have been answered, and I'm thankful."

"Could you yourself have done anything to bring about this, ah, intervention, this preventative death?"

"I have just told you: I prayed. I didn't know it would be death, but that's as good a solution as any."

Then they questioned her a little about other things.

Gadberry, now back from his breakfast, was questioned by Captain Gold.

"Gadberry, do you often get up so early?"

"Never. But I often stay up this late. I work at night and sleep in the daytime."

"Why?" Captain Gold inquired.

"It was originally a pose. Then I became used to it."

"You seemed extraordinarily cool on discovering Miss Merry dead. You did not make an outcry, or hurry to report it."

"I reported it to the first person I met, a policeman. This seemed the logical person, and the logical thing to do."

"Almost too logical. What was your opinion of Miss Merry?"

"Alive, or dead? The girl was somehow completed in death. It improves many people. So often we see only the outside of people, but to look at her smeared with her own blood gives an added dimension, a more total view."

"Ah, what was your opinion of her alive?"

"Her hands and ankles were rather good; between, she was conventional.

She hadn't eyes, no eyes at all. It isn't usual for a girl her age to have eyes. A child will sometimes have eyes, a woman after thirty may have them again, or a man after forty. I never saw her hair, which is to say that it was doctored. I sketched her ears sometimes, and her throat. I was not satisfiedwith either of them, but then it isn't twice a year that I come on either that is really good. Are you interested in these things?"

"We are somewhat interested in the throat of this girl, and other matters. Since you work at night, you must have been awake. Did you hear any outcry or evidence of a struggle?"

"No. I could be throttled myself and not notice it. When I work I am taken by the Holy Spirit of art. I am probably unable to help you on the more mundane details you are seeking."

"What is your opinion of the tenant George Handle? It is reported that you sponge on him considerably."

"The artist is worthy of his hire. George is an oaf, a fool; but do not believe that a fool and his money are easily parted. I have to work for every dollar I twist out of him. George has caught the sickness of self-improvement.

He learns at night. He has one of those sets with an earphone for under the pillow. He's put quite a bit of money into the recordings, money much better given to me. He has his own recorder, reads into it things he wishes to learn, then has them played back while he sleeps. Whatever he learns while asleep, he is still a fool when awake."

"You haven't any use for fools?"

"But I have! I often make use of fools."

They questioned him a little more, then went on to Izzard.

"Mr. Izzard, what were your relations with Miss Merry?" Keil asked.

"Avuncular -- of the Dutch-uncle sort. Low Dutch, really, but she hadn't come to realize that yet. I lavished gifts on her, and she was friendly. I believe I would ultimately have been successful. There was a change beginning in her,"

"Yes. Others have noticed the change. Were these expensive gifts?"

"Not to me. The price tags don't matter. I run the A to Izzard Variety Store. She was without discernment, and I have access to bargains."

"You wouldn't have been rebuffed by her, and been angry enough to do her in?"

"I was rebuffed by her constantly, but she did it in a graceful way -- never so as to stop the flow of gifts. My timetable for her was a long one and I am sorry to see it interrupted. No, I never laid a hand on her, except sometimes in attempted affection."

They questioned him a little about the others, a little more about himself, and left him.

Next, they questioned Nazworthy, a !arge, sullen-appearing man. He said that any of them might have done it: Handle, Izzard, Lamprey, Gadberry, Dillahunty. "They are a bad bunch. All of them always looking at the young girl. Any of them do it. Yes, I am awake when it happen. I hear the shots ring out. I say, 'Oh somebody have killed that pretty Miss Merry.' Whichever one you decide on, I will positively identity him as the killer."

"You are sure that you heard shots? She was not shot."

"It was the knife I hear, then. I hear it go in loud. I say, 'Somebody have killed that pretty Miss Merry.'"

"She was not knifed."

"How was it, then? What is the loud noise I heard? How did he kill her?"

"We believe that she was strangled, and then thrown or pushed from her window."

"My very thought. That is what I heard. The strangle noises and the thrown-out-of-the-window noises. I hear everything. I know everything. I will give testimony."

There was the look of arrogant laughter behind the hard eyes of Nazworthy. He was talking nonsense, either seriously or speciously. They would get nothing out of him.

Mr. Dillahunty told Keil and Gold, "My opinion of the lodgers I cannot give as I would like, being opposed to profanity. You may have to discount my opinion of them, however. I always have a low opinion of those with whom I live; but when I have moved on to other lodgings I remember them withaffection. No, I heard nothing in the night. I hear little without my aid, and I do not sleep with it. My acquaintance with the aforesaid Minnie Jo was sketchy. She would smile, and I would smile, but I am thrice her age and a crippled man. Having second sight, I knew that this would happen... No, I haven't second sight to that extent; I don't know who did it. You are sure it was one of the lodgers?"

"No. But she was apparently in her own room and in bed when accosted.

She seems to have been strangled there and thrown out her own window. It was quite late, after the dew, and no feet left the building after the dew and before her discovery -- except those of Gadberry, who reported her. At the moment we have no leads to anyone except those who lived in this building.

Tell us, what about Mrs. Raffel?"

"A religious fanatic but a good woman. It is believed by the others that I pay the regular rates here, but that is not so. I live here partly on the charity of Mrs. Raffel."

"And Gadberry, the artist?"

"In one word, selfish."

"George Handle? He has been called a fool."

"Only a half-fool. But easily led."

"Izzard?"

"A merchant. He never spent a penny without a return."

"Nazworthy? Is he as crazy as he sounds?"

"No, he isn't. He's a sardonic kidder, with a dislike for all authority.

I can imagine a little the line he would take with the police. The cat, the only other animal that indulges in straight-faced sardonic humor, betrays itself by a flick of the tail. Nazworthy has the same motion, but without the tail."

"Could he kill?"

"I doubt he could kill Minnie Jo Merry. He hates only pretentious people, and she wasn't. He could kill a policeman -- or her killer. If another is killed, then you will know."

"We'll watch for that. Lamprey?"

"Nothing there. A nothing man. Did you notice the girl well? A beautiful thing and finely made, but there was plenty of strength to her. That nothing man couldn't have strangled her. She'd have strangled him and thrown him out the window. You'll have to look to one of the others, not to him."

Dillahunty was right. Lamprey was a nothing man, and he was terrified of the police. "I didn't kill her. I didn't know her. I didn't know anyhody. I wash dishes at Webbers. I don't know nobody. I'm in my room all night."

"Well did you hear noises in the night?"

"Noises I always hear, and some of them never happen. I'm a nervous man, but I kill nobody, I hurt nobody. It is more I am always afraid someone would kill me."

Lamprey was a small man with small hands, a frightened man on the edge of incompetency. They questioned him a little more and left him.

"What do we have?" Captain Keil asked. "A heavy old woman who is a religious fanatic and also a good woman, and is glad that the girl was killed before something had happened to her. An artist who is selfish. A sardonic kidder who is not as stupid as he acts. A half-fool who is easily led. A nothing man. A merchant who does not spend without a return. An old Irishman who is thrice her age, but can we be sure that all the sap is dead in him?

Seven, and one of them is crazy, but which? Let's go talk to the half-fool."

"Handle," Captain Gold said, "did you sleep well last night?"

"No. I have never slept well any night of my life. I dream a lot and worry a lot. I'm totally alive when I sleep."

"Was it because of your restlessness at night that you decided to try the learn-while-you-sleep systems?"

"Yes. I want to know things, so I decided to tap my nocturnal energy, as the advertisement said."

"What is your relationship with Gilford Gadberry?""Oh, he takes me for quite a bit, but he knows all the things I want to know. He can talk about music and funny paintings and the new dirty novels and psychology and things like that. Sometimes I turn him on when he talks, and play him back at night. Sometimes when I lend him money he'll make recordings for me -- Gaelic furniture design, and things like that. He arranges the things I'll hear at night so I'll get a well-rounded liberal education."

"I see. Did you hear any noises last night?"