Those bastards are going to slip up one of these days.

Maybe one of them came into the bank earlier to look it over. "

"That's wishful thinking, Ryan."

"Yeah, I know, but we still have to go through the routine. We have to cover all the possibilities. From the looks of all these stacks of paper, there were quite a few customers yesterday. It's going to take us the rest of the day to go through them." They divided the stacks between them. Ryan went back into the president's office to work there. Cole stayed out in the lobby. He searched through the top drawer of the ink-stained desk for a notepad and pencil so that he could make his list, found what he needed, and put them on the desktop.

He was on his way to get the chair Ryan had kicked over when a glimpse of blue on the floor under the desk's kneehole caught his attention.

"We're going to have to go through everything in here at least three times, " Ryan warned. "Just in case we miss something the first and second time around."

"We'll be here a week, " Cole shouted back as he bent down on one knee and reached inside the kneehole. He pulled out a pale blue bag with a blue-and-white satin string.

He opened it and looked inside. There wasn't anything there, just blue satin lining. Cole stared at the thing for several seconds, then called out, "Hey, Ryan, do you know who works at this desk? " "Yes, "

Ryan shouted back. He was seated at the president's desk, methodically going through the contents in the top drawer. "I've got the name written down in my notes."

"Do you remember if it is a man or a woman? " Something in Cole's voice caught Ryan's attention. He glanced up, saw him down on one knee, and called out, "A man sits there."

"Was he one of the men killed? " "No. He was home sick yesterday."

Cole stuck his head into the opening. "Well . . . well, " he whispered.

"Did you find something? " Ryan shouted.

"Maybe, " Cole answered. "Then again, maybe not." He stood up and turned to Ryan. "Do you happen to know how often this place gets cleaned? " "That's the first question I asked Sloan, since we also have to go through the trash. According to him, MacCorkle was obsessed about keeping the place spotless. He had it cleaned every night and inspected every nook and cranny in the morning. All the trash in the bins is from yesterday's business."

"You're positive it was cleaned Tuesday night? " Ryan stopped what he was doing and walked back to the lobby. He spotted the wad of blue fabric in Cole's hand.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Why? What have you got? " "A possibility."

"A possibility of what? " Cole smiled. "A witness." hree women had been inside the bank between the hours of one and three o'clock in the afternoon on the day of the robbery. Cole and Ryan knew that was fact, not speculation, because of Sherman MacCorkle's taskmaster rules. Just as the sheriff had told Ryan, the president of the bank had demanded that every transactioneven change for a dollar billbe recorded by name on a piece of paper and filed in the cash drawer. If the figures on the papers didn't balance with the money in the drawer, the teller had to make up the difference. MacCorkle had also insisted that each day's tallies be separated into the morning and afternoon hours. The receipts for Wednesday morning's transactions were still on MacCorkle's desk in three neat piles. There was also an open filing cabinet behind MacCorkle's desk filled with documents, loan applications, mortgages, and records of foreclosures. Every piece had a date on top.

God love Sherman MacCorkle for being such a stickler for details.

With all the interruptions, it took until evening to sort out all the names. In all, twenty-nine men and women had come into the bank that day. Eighteen had taken care of their business during the morning hours, and none of them were women. The bank had been closed for lunch from noon until one o'clock, and that afternoon, eleven people had come inside, and of those eleven, three were women.

One of them had left her bag behind.

Ryan and Cole were cautious about the discovery and decided in hushed, urgent voices to keep the possibility of a witness to themselves for the time being.

"We could be jumping the gun on this, " Cole warned. "In fact, we probably are."

"Yeah, but I got a feeling . . . " "Me too, " Cole whispered. "The thing is. . . it could have been under the desk for weeks."

"We should talk to the couple who cleans the place right away. I've got their names and address somewhere in my notes, " Ryan said as he flipped through the pages of his notepad. "Here it is.

Mildred and Edward Stewart. They live over on Currant Street. Let's go talk to them now. I want to get out of here for a few minutes and get some fresh air."

"It's past nine, " Cole said. "They might be in bed." He was already moving toward the front door as he reminded Ryan of the time. They locked the door on their way out and walked over to the Stewarts'

cottage on the outskirts of town. The couple's daughter opened the door for them and explained that her parents were working.

They cleaned the bank, the church, and the general store every night.

The marshals backtracked. They could see the lights inside the general store. The shades were drawn, but Edward Stewart opened the door as soon as Ryan knocked and told him who he was.

Mildred was down on her knees scrubbing the floor. The heavyset woman got to her feet and wiped her hands on her apron when the marshals came inside. Both she and her husband were olderaround fifty or so, Cole speculated and from their haggard expressions and their stooped shoulders, he knew they had had to work hard all of their lives.

Ryan made the introductions, and then said, "We know you're busy, but we sure would appreciate it if you would answer a couple of questions.

" "We'll be glad to help any way we can, " Edward said. "There's some chairs behind the counter if you want to sit down. The floor should be dry by now."

"It won't take that long, " Ryan said. "Did you and Mildred clean the bank Tuesday night? " Edward nodded. "Yes, sir, we did. We clean it every night but Sunday, and MacCorkle paid us every Monday morning."

"Do you think the new people running the place will keep us on? "

Mildred asked. "We do a good job and we don't charge much." They could tell she was worried. She was wringing her apron in her hands and frowning with concern.

"I'm sure they'll keep you on, " Ryan predicted. "When you clean the bank, do you wash the floors or sweep them? " "I do both, " Mildred answered. "First I give them a good sweeping, and then I get down on my hands and knees and wash every inch of my floors.

I use vinegar and water, and when I'm done, the hardwood shines, doesn't it Edward? " "Yes, it does, " he agreed.

"You don't move the furniture, do you? " Cole asked.

"I don't move the heavy pieces, but I move the chairs and the trash tins. I get under the tellers' windows, under the desks, and behind the file cabinets that aren't against the walls. We do a real thorough job, " she insisted.

"MacCorkle always inspected our work. Sometimes he'd get down on his knees and look into the corners just to make sure we didn't miss a speck of dust or a cobweb, and if he found any, he deducted from our pay. He was real finicky about his bank."

"He bought old, used-up furniture for the lobby and his loan officers, but he told us, with enough elbow grease, we could make the wood shine again. Some of those desks should have been thrown away years ago, but MacCorkle wasn't one to waste anything, " Edward said.

"He had fancy new furniture put in his office, " Mildred interjected.

Cole spotted a basket of green apples on the counter. He took a coin out of his pocket, tossed it on the counter, and then selected two. He threw one to Ryan and took a bite out of the other.

"Ma'am, did the folks who came into the bank ever leave anything behind? " "Sure they did, " Mildred answered. "I found a pretty brooch once, and Edward found a wallet with six whole dollars inside.

Anything that's left behind is put in the lost-and-found box in MacCorkle's office. It's in the corner by the safe."

"Did you happen to find anything Tuesday night? " Both Mildred and Edward shook their heads.

"Do you remember cleaning under the desks Tuesday? " Cole asked.

"Sure I remember, " Mildred said. "I clean under the desks every night, but Sunday. Why are you asking? " "I was just curious, " Cole lied.

"Even if we were tired, we cleaned every inch of the bank because MacCorkle wouldn't pay us our full wage if we didn't."

"He was a hard man to work for, " Mildred whispered.

"You shouldn't be speaking ill of the dead, " Edward told his wife.

"I'm speaking the truth, " she argued.