This seemed to be Renee’s private space in the apartment, where she had both office equipment and home comforts-books, family photos, worn rugs and chairs suitable for lounging. There was also an alcove with chairs less suitable for lounging, and it was there that she directed her son and me to sit.

“Edwards and I want to know how you came to be involved with Catherine. No more stories, please, about an interview with the school paper.” Renee Bayard had the impersonal force of a hurricane-you couldn’t take offense-you either held your ground or got flattened.

I smiled. “That was Catherine’s story. Although I was feeling pretty

frustrated with her at the time, I admired her resourcefulness in thinking it up on the spot.”

“That doesn’t answer the question-what is your name? It didn’t seem important to remember it before.”

“V 1. Warshawski.” I handed her one of my cards.

“Yes, I see. Now. Why were you here on-Wednesday afternoon, wasn’t it? How did you come to follow Catherine home? And why did you then go to New Solway on Thursday to bother my staff?”

“Ma’am, I have a great deal of respect for your husband, and am acquiring a fair amount for you as I watch you in action-but you mustn’t jump over facts to get to the conclusion you want.”

Edwards’s eyebrows shot up; he apparently wasn’t used to seeing people stand up to his mother. Renee studied me. “And what fact do you think I’m `jumping over’?”

“You assume, or want to believe, that I followed Catherine home last week.”

Elsbetta entered with a trolley holding another ornate china service. When she’d served us and left, Renee continued as if there had been no interruption.

“I know Catherine didn’t get your name from Darraugh Graham. How did you meet her?”

I told her about finding Marcus Whitby, about my investigation into his death, and why I wanted to talk to Catherine in the first place-it seemed pointless to cover up Catherine’s presence at Larchmont on Sunday night. I even told Renee about being in the pond on Friday, but not that I’d heard her and Catherine talking. And I stuck to my story about finding the kitchen door open at Larchmont Hall: I didn’t want competing versions of my activities floating around.

“I was startled when the sheriff’s police suddenly arrived,” I said. “And I did wonder if it was you who’d alerted them to the notion that there really was someone in the house.”

Renee’s hand didn’t pause as she lifted her eggshell cup to her lips. She drank and set it down. “And what made you wonder that?”

“You knew Catherine was wandering around Larchmont in the dark;

she wouldn’t tell you why. She’s an ardent spirit, but she’s very youngperhaps you thought she might not recognize as dangerous someone she’d agreed to help. Perhaps you thought she had some outlaw holed up, someone she’d romanticized into a Robin Hood. I don’t know how you would have imagined this person, but you knew she valued her oath to protect him more even than the very strong bond between you and her. You wanted him found and moved off the Larchmont property.”