RANSVESTIA

Buchanan turned from the doorway where the shorter Calesi was left gesturing at thin air. The big guy looked embarassed, puzzled and upset all at the same time. "How come we're not pulling in more of these queens for questioning?" he blurted out. "You've been resting for a couple of hours now and shouldn't we have been locating where all of your supects were at the time of the murders? You've hardly questioned anyone about the second murder."

"That's right,'' said Hamilton. "But, though I don't have all the information I need yet I think I have enough." He patted the drawer with the newly wrapped parcel Lisa's wife had given him the previous night before she had slipped away so furtively that neither of the Tremayne detectives was aware of her visit.

―

The phong rang. Hamilton snapped it from its cradle before either of the others could move. He listened for a while and then grunted, "Thanks, doc," before hanging up.

"Well?" Buchanan stared at the abstracted detective.

"Oh," Hamilton stood up. "It appears that I was correct in my surmise. Betty Ewell was, in fact, a man. A man, that is, until he underwent several operations to change his sex."

Buchanan and Calesi watched Hamilton as he began to shuffle several of his notes and maps atop the desk. "So what's that do to with the case?" asked Buchanan.

"Sets up several interesting motives for murder, doesn't it?" mused Hamilton. "So, you tell me. Who did it?

Buchanan looked back blankly. But Calesi snapped his fingers. "The Ewell guy," he said sharply. "He musta known his wife was really another guy. So, he's probably lyin' alla the time."

Hamilton nodded. "Good thinking," he said. "And it still might be on the evidence so far."

"You don't think so?" Calesi's brows were furrowed.

Bud shook his head. "Strength," he said. “I doubt very much if any of the people here have the strength to push a knife into the heart with just one blow. It takes strength and a certain expertise."