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business? He’s not interested in that kind of work. Redwall is like an old-time troubadour—carefree and irresponsible. No, I think he’s very happy where he is, if he can keep out of trouble.”
    â€œIs he trouble-prone?”
    She shrugged. “The way any non-conformist would be. He’s only my half-brother, by the way—my father’s son by his first marriage. I think he inherited some of his mother’s unfortunate traits.”
    â€œSuch as?”
    â€œWell, to be candid, Redwall drinks far too much. In fact, he was smashed when he agreed to accompany Earl on the camping trip. He’d never have considered such a thing sober.”
    â€œAnd Bob Vega—what’s your opinion of him?”
    â€œI’ve met Bob, of course, and he’s very polite, very much the gentleman. Earl always said he was a careful manager. That’s all I know about him.”
    â€œOne other matter, Mrs. Genneman. I understand young Buck James was engaged to your daughter?”
    â€œYes.” Opal Genneman’s lips tightened. “Something came up between them … I don’t think Buck wanted to get married right away. I’ve never got the right of it, but I know that Jean was badly hurt. Buck must be out of his mind. He’ll never do better, and probably a lot worse.” She shrugged. “But I didn’t interfere. The children’s lives are their own.” She turned at the sound of the front door. “That must be Jean now. Jean?”
    Jean Genneman appeared in the archway—a tall blond girl with a fresh face, pleasant to look at, and a supple figure.
    â€œHello, dear,” said her mother. “How was the final?”
    â€œTerrible. I botched it.”
    â€œOh. Well, under the circumstances …”
    Jean came forward. She seemed nervous. Mrs. Genneman said, “This is Inspector Collins of the Fresno County Sheriff’s Office. My daughter Jean.”
    She stared at him a moment. “Who did it? Do you know?”
    Collins shook his head. “I’m working on it. I’ll know eventually.”
    â€œJust you tell me who he is. I’ll shoot him myself!” Jean drew a deep breath. “I can’t understand it, I simply can’t. It must have been a psychopath.”
    Collins studied her. “Someone followed the party into the mountains, someone who seemed to know their itinerary. That’s the man we’re looking for.”
    â€œAnd no one saw him?”
    â€œJames caught a glimpse of him. So did Vega. At the second night’s camp everyone in the party saw him from a considerable distance.”
    â€œAnd Earl didn’t recognise him?”
    â€œApparently not.” Collins looked at his watch. “Your son is upstairs, I think you said?”
    â€œYes, in his room.”
    â€œI wonder if I could speak to him? Alone.”
    â€œOf course,” said Opal Genneman, rising. “Excuse me.” She left the room.
    Collins turned to the girl. “I’m trying to find a motive for the murder. One of the first things we think of is whether there’s a woman involved. Do you know of any, Miss Genneman?”
    Jean laughed—a harsh, unconvincing sound. “You think a jealous husband shot Earl? Forget it. Earl wasn’t the type.”
    â€œBy any chance had he interfered in your romance with Buck James?”
    Jean laughed the same unpleasant laugh. “Yes, he interfered. He did everything he could to encourage Buck. Do you know how much he paid Buck? A thousand a month, plus commissions. Buck makes more than Bob Vega. That’s hardly the kind of interference that leads to murder.”
    â€œYou can’t think of anyone, then, who might have wanted Mr. Genneman out of the way?”
    â€œNo.” Jean jumped up. “Here’s Junior. I’ll leave you two alone.” And she slipped out of the room. A girl of character, thought Collins, and intelligence.