In the dark, I could sense rather than see the old man’s embarrassment: Clara was his beloved wife, dead now for many years. I hastily changed the subject, explaining that I had borrowed a car and needed to drop it some place close to its owner. “I’m going upstairs to change, then I want to drive out to New Solway and collect the Mustang. Want to come along?”

He was delighted to take even a small part in my adventure. I left him in his own kitchen and went up to my apartment.

My living room overlooks Racine, so I moved through it in darkness, trying to remember where I’d left things like the piano bench. I only banged my shin once. Since no one seemed to be watching the back, I did turn on lights in my bedroom and kitchen, first making sure the blinds were pulled and the door leading from the back to the front of the hall was shut. After my night in Larchmont Hall, the apartment seemed tiny, but I was glad of my small space. It was like a cloak, protecting me.

I was ravenous, and badly wanted real food. In the last twenty-four hours, I’d had a smoothie, a plate of eggs and some toast and tea in the rectory kitchen. I put water on for pasta. In the freezer, I actually found part of a roast chicken. I stuck it in the microwave while I changed.

My shoulder muscles did not like it when I tried to fasten my bra, but I gritted my teeth and did up the hooks: it felt important not to be exposed, even beneath a sweater, when I finally got around to the law. I put some of Father Lou’s embrocation on a bath brush so I could reach behind my head to rub it into my sore zone. It had an odd smell, not unpleasant, but conjuring up stables or locker rooms. Remembering Father Lou’s advice to tape the area, I dug an Ace bandage out of the medicine chest. I managed to wrap it tightly enough to hold the sore muscle in place. With clean jeans and walking shoes, I felt strong enough to get by for a while. My running shoes were badly nicked from scaling Larchmont. I’d have to stretch the budget to cover a new pair.

I still had some decent-looking lettuce, a bag of carrots and fresh green beans in my refrigerator. I put these together into a salad, which I ate with the chicken and pasta, sitting down at the kitchen table. Too often I eat either in the car or walking around the apartment while I get ready to run out the door.

I wanted to keep things slow right now, not rush at whatever lay ahead. When I finished eating, I washed the dishes, including the ones I’d let build up in the sink while I was under the weather. Bringing a container of household cleaner and a sponge with me, I walked slowly down the stairs to collect Mr. Contreras and the dogs. We went out the back way, down the alley to the Jaguar.