Hemlock Bay

on the waterfront. A beautiful town, Humboldt’s county seat, Eureka was filled with countless fine Victorian homes and buildings.
    “Something I can help you with, Agent Savich? Sounds like something’s happening you don’t like.”
    Savich shook his head. “I wish there was something, but the pills are exactly what they should be. I guess it would have been really easy if they were something different. I told you that the Explorer my sister totaled has been compacted. I was really holding out big hopes for those pills. Oh yeah, call me Savich.”
    “Okay, Hoyt here. Now, the Explorer—that was done awfully fast.”
    “Yes, maybe too fast, but then again, my life’s work is to be suspicious. Maybe it was just very straightforward. As of right now, it’s all a dead end. However, I think it’s time I did a bit of digging on my brother-in-law, Dr. Tennyson Frasier.”
    Clark Hoyt, who had heard of some of the exploits of Sherlock, Savich, and MAX, Savich’s transvestite laptop, said, “Don’t tell me that you didn’t do a background search on this guy before he married your sister? Seems to me a brother would have checked out the fillings in his teeth.”
    “Well, yeah, sure I did. But not a really deep one. Just that he didn’t have a record, hadn’t ever been in rehab for drugs or alcohol, stuff like that.”
    “And that he wasn’t a bigamist?”
    “No, I didn’t check on that. Lily told me he’d been right up front about the fact that he’d been married before and that his wife had died. You know something, Hoyt? I wonder now what the first wife died of. I wonder how long they were married before she died.” His eyes brightened.
    “Savich, you don’t really think he’s trying to kill his wife? The pills were just what they were supposed to be.”
    “They were indeed, and I’m not sure. But you know, information is just about the most important thing any cop can have.” Savich rubbed his hands together. “MAX is going to love this.”
    “You know that the Frasiers are a really big deal down in Hemlock Bay and the environs. Daddy Frasier has dealings all over the state, I understand.”
    “Yeah. Before, I didn’t see the need to check into Papa’s finances and dealings, but now it’s time to be thorough.”
    “Is your sister going to be all right?”
    “Yes, she’ll be just fine.”
    “I’ve got the names of some excellent psychiatrists in the area—all women, just like you wanted. I hope one of them will be able to help your sister.”
    “Yeah, me too. But you know—no matter there’s no proof of any funny stuff, that it really does look like she just drove the Explorer into that redwood on purpose—I simply can’t believe that Lily tried to kill herself. No matter what anyone says, I find myself coming back again and again to the fact that it just doesn’t fit.”
    “People change, Savich. Even people we love dearly. Sometimes we can’t see the change because we’re just too close.”
    Savich took another look at that lovely park and said, “When Lily was thirteen, she was running a gambling operation in the neighborhood. She would take bets on anything from the point spread in college football games to who could shoot the most three-point baskets in any pro game. Drove my parents nuts. Since my dad was an FBI agent, the local cops didn’t do anything, just snickered a lot. I think they all admired her moxie, but they gave my dad lots of grief about it, called her a chip off the old block.
    “When she hit eighteen, she suddenly realized that she liked to draw and she was very good at it. She’s an artist, you know, very talented.”
    “No, I hadn’t heard.”
    “Actually, her talent comes from our grandmother, Sarah Elliott.”
    “Sarah Elliott? Good grief, the Sarah Elliott, the artist whose paintings are in all the museums?”
    “Yep. Lily’s talents lie in a different direction—she’s an excellent cartoonist, lots of humor and irony. Have you ever heard of the cartoon strip No Wrinkles Remus?”
    Agent Hoyt shook his head.
    “That’s all right. It’s political satire and shenanigans, I guess you could say. She hasn’t done much for the past seven months, since the death of her daughter. But she will, and once she gets herself back together again, I’m sure she’s going to be syndicated in lots of papers across the country.”
    “She’s that good?”
    “I think so. Now, given her talent, her background, can you really believe that she would