ing the Memorial Day weekend of 1968， Kate Shaw
~red a robbery that was， she conceded straightaway， \"all
own fault.\" Living on one of the few privately owned
es of lakefront property in Thorpe， she had permitted a
ag hiker to spend Friday night camped on the shore. The
afternoon she went shopping. When she returned， the
r was gone， and so were her typewriter， camera， and
D.
spector Adams resisted the urge to lecture on the horrors
might have befallen an attractive young woman alone
a stranger in an isolated house. He commented that she
lucky her stereo was too big to carry， and warned that the
~giate secondhand market would probably swallow her
is without a trace.
he End， he thought， and as far as the case was concerned
was right. But two days later he passed her in the
cersity library where she returned his greeting， although
expression suggested she wasn t sure who he was. On
rday， at Professor Lacey s end-of-term party for present
former students， she not only recognized him but sought
out.
tello， Inspector，\" she said with a smile. \"You re like a
word.\" He raised his eyebrows inquiringly. \"You know，
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