“You’re wrong, there’s no one in the house. If old Mrs. Graham thinks there is-she’s almost a hundred and she can hardly see.”

“She’s not blind, she’s just nearsighted, and she’s by no means deranged. And after talking to her, and talking to you, well, if she said your hair was green, I’d believe her before I believed you telling me it was brown.”

I paused, hoping she’d blurt out something-her flushed, turbulent face showed she wasn’t used to being called a liar. After a moment, I went on. “You wouldn’t have to meet a boyfriend there. As clever as you are about jumping out of fire escapes, if you wanted to see someone your grandmother didn’t like you’d find an easier way to do it, unless there was a thrill attached … Is that how you get into Larchmont? You shinny up a drainpipe or something to reach a third-floor window that doesn’t have the alarm system wired to it?”

“No. Is that what you would do?” She had her arms crossed, the very portrait of a hostile teenager, but it felt to me more like a pose than a real act. “Whoever you’re meeting, you don’t want your grandmother to know, because you tap-danced your way mighty fast past anyplace where she’d ask a question. She’s obviously proud of you and your strong beliefs. I guess I’d have to find out what would hit her the wrong way. I can’t imagine drugs, since even if you were a user you’d have an easier place to score than that.” I got to my feet. “It’s a puzzle, and puzzles make me curious, even when they aren’t my business. When they may be-and I don’t have any way of knowing this one isn’t-well, then I keep digging.”

Catherine scrunched up her face. “One night last summer when I couldn’t sleep, I saw my grandfather going through the woods. I followed him and he was going over to Larchmont-that was after the nounous moved out. I don’t know why he had a key, I guess from when the Grahams lived there and they were all good friends, but he was letting himself in. And-and I went in after him. So Sunday when I couldn’t sleep I went in to his room to see if he was sleeping-Gran had gone back to Chicago because she had an early meeting Monday, but my first class wasn’t until ten. Anyway, Grample, my grandfather, wasn’t in his room, so I just thought I’d go see if he was over at Larchmont. It’s a private place to talk. Out at our house, you know, someone on the staff is always around and it’s hard to be private.”

“Right.” I smiled affably. “And last night when you couldn’t sleep, you drove out to Larchmont to find your grandfather and talk to him. Privately, I mean.”

Her flush deepened, but before she could say anything, Renee Bayard sailed back into the room. “Trina, something unexpected happened: Olin Taverner has died and the local television stations want to talk to me. I don’t know how long it will take, so we won’t be able to have dinner together. Elsbetta will lay something out for you in the kitchen.”