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don’t shop. I have personal shoppers at Neiman Marcus and Bergdorf Goodman. They have my sizes and send me all my clothes.”
    â€œThey must be swanky stores.”
    â€œSwanky? I guess so, but some women only buy from high-fashion places in Europe like Escada. I buy American.”
    American? Those shoes came from Italy, and I’d bet that outfit she was wearing came from Paris, France. The phone rang, and the maid answered it.
    â€œExcuse me, Mrs. Win chus ter,” she said. “Your car is waiting.”
    The maid fetched Mrs. Winchester’s hat, a broad-brimmed straw one. I couldn’t help but compliment her on that hat too—it was not only stylish, but it would also keep the sun out of her eyes—well, I mean her eye, her good eye.
    â€œI like it too,” she said. “It’s a panama—you know, the kind they make out of jipijapa leaves.”
    We were almost at the door when I remembered the jewelry.
    â€œMrs. Winchester, since we’re leaving the suite, don’t you think it would be a good idea to put your jewelry in the safe?”
    â€œNever mind. If it’s stolen, I’ll buy more.”
    I didn’t like that one bit, but there was nothing I could do about it.
    We took the elevator downstairs and found Percival waiting outside with Lucy and Desi in the car. Mrs. Winchester asked him how far it was to Lynchburg, and he said it was about seventy-five miles. She reminded him that she had to be back by 5:00.
    â€œYes, madam.”

    On the way, Mrs. Winchester surprised me by talking—telling me all about Jack Daniel. “His real name was Jasper Newton Daniel,” she told me, “but everyone called him Jack. When he was only seven years old he went to work for a Lutheran minister who had a still.”
    â€œA Lutheran minister had a still?”
    â€œYes, that was back in the 1800s. After a few years hiscongregation objected, and he sold the still to Jack. Jack was only thirteen years old when he took over.”
    She went on for a long time, telling me Jack Daniel’s history and how he made whiskey by seeping it through charcoal, aging it in barrels and so forth. “That’s what makes it Tennessee whiskey and not bourbon,” she said.
    I didn’t have the foggiest notion what the difference was and was not the least bit interested in finding out. To me, all booze is rotgut, but Mrs. Winchester was enjoying talking about booze almost as much as she liked drinking it.
    â€œJack Daniel’s whiskey became world famous. In competition with whiskeys from all over the world, his whiskey won the gold medal at the 1904 World’s Fair.”
    Finally, I had to say something. “Well, I’ll tell you, Mrs. Winchester, the Lord don’t look with favor on bootleggers.”
    â€œOh, Jack Daniel was no bootlegger. He was the first in the country to register his distillery. First to put whiskey in square bottles too.”
    Unlike her, I was not the least bit excited about Jack Daniel’s contribution to the liquor industry. I had seen too much heartache come out of a liquor bottle, round or square. But I had to be polite and keep up my end of the conversation. “Since Jack Daniel is dead, do you know how he died?”
    â€œOh, that’s a funny story.” She giggled. “Early one morning he came to work and wanted to get something out of his safe, but he couldn’t remember the combination. He lost his temper, kicked the safe, and broke histoe. An infection set in he could not get rid of, and six years later he died from blood poisoning.”
    Serves him right , I thought but didn’t say so. “How do you find out so much about dead people?”
    â€œIt’s very easy. My secretary goes on the Internet for information, and when she can’t find enough there, she makes phone calls, goes to the library, or orders books for me.”
    Percival was slowing down to pull off the