“Bain, Adam Bain, attorney and counselor at law for thirty years in the town of Annalaka.”
“Thank you. My name is Kent. You already know my friend’s name. What kind of man is this medical officer?”
“Breed? Not much. More of a politician than a doctor, and more of a horse trader than either. Fidgety as a sandpaper undershirt.”
“Did he perform the autopsy at his own house?”
“Him and the sheriff last evening. Didn’t even have an undertaker to help lay out.”
The lobe of Kent’s ear began to suffer from repeated handling. “The body hasn’t been identified, I suppose?”
“Nobody’s had so much as a wink at it but those two and Ira Dennett. He viewed the corpse last night. That’s why I guess your friend needs his friends and maybe a lawyer.”
“Exactly. Mr. Dennett doesn’t seem to be precisely a deaf mute.”
Lawyer Bain emitted the bubbling chuckle of the fat-throated. “It’s quite some time since Iry won any prizes for silent thought,” he stated. “You are known, hereabouts?” he added, after a pause.
“Very little.”