Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 34, No. 13 & 14, Winter 1989

“While I was ashore on Arena yesterday looking for a sea heron egg, I saw a small house built back in the jungle a short distance from the beach. When Paquette was on the island the day of her birthday, she walked all the way around the island and did not see a house. So I looked some more and soon found Tassig’s boat pulled up in the bushes where it could not be seen from the water. After that, it didn’t take me long to find Tassig and Rosemary. There is much difference in their ages and things had not worked between them as well as they had expected. Both of them wanted to go back to Antipuluan and their families, but did not know how to do it.”

“And so you helped them with their stories,” Jess said.

Meding nodded. “Of course there may be a problem later — Rosemary could be pregnant. If that should be the case — well, we will worry about that if it happens. I have counseled with families and worked out such troubles before.”

“So now all of the unusual things that have happened here recently are explained,” Jess said. “And, as you thought, the American had nothing to do with any of them.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes.

“It was best that Paquette and her family went home instead of trying to live here,” Meding said. “Life here is hard and much different from what they are accustomed to in the United States. That is true even for Paquette; she has been gone from here for a long time. And the American, even though his intentions were good, he was wrong and could have brought us serious trouble with the bandits.”

Jess raised his eyebrows in question.

“The American is used to dealing with problems from a position of power,” Meding explained. “He is used to having money and, if needed, guns. Here, we are not in that position. The government cannot help us against the bandits, and neither will they give us the weapons we must have if we are to stand up against them ourselves. As it is now, one bandit with a gun could kill everyone in the village. The bandits and their foolish cause have been with us for many years, and during that time their numbers haven’t grown. It is best that we continue to throw them our scraps to make them satisfied, and keep on living in peace. This is something the American would not understand.”

“But he is a good man,” Jess said. “Paquette did well.” He paused, then added: “And you are a wise woman, Madame Meding.”

She smiled but said nothing. Experience and the wisdom that comes from it are the things your elders are good for, young man, she thought. I hope you remember this the next time there are problems in the village.

Call to Witness by Nancy Schachterle

The police captain himself came to see Allison. That pleased her immensely; but it’s only right, she thought. The Ryder name still means something in this town, even if the last survivor is an old maid of eighty-three. Secretly she had been afraid that she had been in the backwater of age for so long that most people, if they thought about her at all, had decided that she must be long since dead.

Everett Barkley, he told her his name was. He was tall and well-built, filling his uniform to advantage, with little sign of the paunch that so many men his age allowed to develop.

Barkley helped himself to her father’s big leather chair, slumping comfortably to accommodate his frame to its rump-sprung curves. Allison started toward a straight-backed chair suited to the erect posture of her generation, then yielded to the pleading of well-aged bones and lowered herself carefully into her familiar upholstered armchair.

The policeman surveyed the piecrust table at his elbow, laden with silver-framed photographs. Gingerly he reached out and picked up Dodie’s picture.

“Mrs. Patrick. She must have been very young when this was taken.”

“Nineteen. She sat for that four years ago.” And she had watched, not an hour ago, Allison recalled, as they carried Dodie to the ambulance with a blanket entirely covering her.

“Did you know her well? As you probably know, I’ve been in town less than a year and I had never seen her before the... before this morning.”

Allison shuddered slightly. Automatically her hand went to her lap to caress Snowball, to seek comfort in the warm, silky fur, and the pulsations of the gentle, almost silent, purr. With a start she remembered that she had let him out in the early hours of the morning, and he hadn’t yet returned. Worry nagged at her.

What had Captain Barkley asked? Yes — about Dodie. Did I know her well?

“She came toddling up my front steps one day when she was about two, and we’ve been fast friends ever since. At that time she lived just up the hill, in the next block.”

“And since they were married they’ve lived next door to you?”

“That’s right.”

“Miss Ryder...” The policeman shifted his position, slightly ill at ease. “Would you tell me something about Dodie? Anything you like. Just your mental picture of her.”