RANSVESTIA

"What was her maiden name?" asked Hamilton.

Ewell was surprised. "Barnes, Elizabeth Barnes," he said.

Hamilton stood up and walked about the place. Unlike the Conway Sisters' feminine room, this was sparse and masculine, without adornments. "Had you met Darlene Draper before she was killed?" Bus asked backover his shoulder.

"No, that is," Ewell was wanly watching Hamilton's stalking about, "I spoke to her a couple of times, passed the time of day. She was pretty standoffish. She always had to be somewhere else."

"Did Betty know Darlene well?" Hamilton's face was deeply creased in thought.

"She didn't mention it to me," said Ewell with certainty.

There was a sudden rap on the door and a number of femininely attired people came bursting in the door. In the lead was a large transvestite in a red wig. The hair fell over his wide shoulders, yet, despite his size, he was well turned out in a tight black skirt and a frilled, pink blouse. His makeup was very pale with dark red lips and thick eye make-up. "Christine," he said in a well-pitched soft, feminine voice. "We thought you'd need our company."

"Yes," said the small brunette who had followed the redhead in. "We can help you get dressed, darling."

"Bonny," Ewell's voice was strangled. "No, I-I'm not doing that any more."

"Oh, tush," said the redhead. "Don't go blaming your dressing for Betty. It just won't work, my dear, besides, she never objected, did she? Not like some we've encountered..."

Seeing the start of a long story, Hamilton interrupted to take his leave. Calesi followed him grimly. There were at least five men dressed as women in the cabin when the detectives left, and it was obvious that Bob Ewell was wavering by the second.

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