her hesitation by counting the man's money on the counter. Now she wondered if Marj, the other clerk working beside her, had noticed anything unusual. Apparently not. Marj was busy writing a policy, earning her contest points.
In the end, it was Bunnie Vorobioff's past which swayed her decision. Her formative years... occupied Europe, her flight to the West, the Berlin Wall... had taught her survival, and conditioned her to something else: to curb curiosity, and not to ask unnecessary questions. Ouestions had a way of leading to involvement, and involvment---in other people's problems---was something to be avoided when one had problems of one's own.
Without further questioning, at the same time solving her problem of how to win an electric toothbrush, Bunnie Vorobioff wrote a flight insurance policy, for three hundred thousand dollars, on D. O. Guerrero's life.
Guerrero mailed the policy to his wife, Inez, on his way to gate forty-seven and Flight Two.
PART TWO Chapter Thirteen
U.S. CUSTOMS Inspector Harry Standish did not hear the announcement of Flight Two's impending departure, but knew it had been made. Flight announcements were not relayed to the Customs Hall, since only international arriving passengers came there, so Standish obtained his information on the telephone, from Trans America Airlines. He had been informed that Flight Two was beginning to load at gate forty-seven and would depart at its rescheduled time of 11 P.M.
Standish was watching the clock and would go to gate forty-seven in a few minutes, not on official business, but to say goodbye to his niece, Judy---his sister's child---who was leaving for a year's schooling in Europe. Standish had promised his sister, who lived in Denver, that he would see Judy off. Earlier this evening, in the terminal, he had spent some time with his niece---a pleasant, self-possessed girl of eighteen---and had said he would drop around for a final goodbye before her flight took off.
Meanwhile, Inspector Standish was trying to clear up a tiresome problem near the end of what had been an exceptionally harassing day.
"Madam," he said quietly to the haughty, angular woman whose several suitcases were spread open on the Customs inspection table between them, "are you quite sure you don't wish to change your story?"
She snapped back, "I suppose you're suggesting I should lie, when I've already told you the truth. Really!---you people are so officious, so disbelieving, I sometimes wonder if we're not living in a police state."
Harry Standish ignored the second remark, as Customs officers were trained to ignore the many insults they received, and answered politely, "I'm not suggesting anything, madam. I merely asked if you wished to amend your statement about these items---the dresses, the sweaters, and the fur coat."
The woman, whose American passport showed that she was Mrs. Harriet Du Barry Mossman who lived in Evanston, and had just returned from a month in England, France, and Denmark, replied acidly, "No, I don't. Furthermore, when my husband's lawyer hears of this interrogation..."
"Yes madam," Harry Standish said. "In that case, I wonder if you'd mind signing this form. If you like, I'll explain it to you."
The dresses, sweaters, and fur coat were spread out on top of the suitcases. Mrs. Mossman had been wearing the coat---a sable jacket---until a few minutes ago when Inspector Standish arrived at Customs inspection station number eleven; he had asked her to take the coat off so that he could look at it more closely. Shortly before that, a red light on a wall panel near the center of the big Customs Hall had summoned Standish. The lights---one for each station---indicated that an inspecting officer had a problem and needed supervisory help.
Now, the young Customs man who had dealt with Mrs. Mossman originally was standing at Inspector Standish's side. Most of the other passengers, who had arrived aboard a Scandinavian Airlines DC-8 from Copenhagen had cleared Customs and had left. Only this well-dressed American woman posed a problem, insisting that all she had bought in Europe was some perfume, costume jewelry, and shoes. The total declared value was ninety dollars---ten dollars less than the free exemption she was allowed. The young officer had been suspicious.
"Why should I sign anything?" Mrs. Harriet Du Barry Mossman demanded.
Standish glanced at an overhead clock; it was a quarter to eleven. He still had time to finish this and reach Flight Two before it left. He answered patiently, "To make things easier for yourself, madam. We're merely asking you to confirm in writing what you've already told us. You say the dresses were purchased..."