I grinned a little to myself: the kid was more enterprising than I would have suspected. I thought a minute, then said carefully, “I’m involved in one of those important cases, Mrs. Jurshak. The client’s name is Nancy Cleghorn. Art is looking for some papers from her. Will you tell him that I have them?”

The name didn’t seem to mean anything to her. At least she didn’t turn pale and faint or cower back in alarm. Instead she asked me if I could write it down since she had a terrible memory, and she was so worried about Art she didn’t think she’d get the names straight if she had to. I scribbled Nancy’s name and a brief message about having her files on the back of my card.

“If something comes up, Mrs. Jurshak, you can leave a message for me at that number. Anytime, day or night.”

When I got to the gate she was still standing in the doorway, her hands wrapped in her apron.

I wished I’d been more persistent with young Art last night. He was scared. He knew whatever it was that Nancy knew. So either my coming had been the last turn of the screw—he’d fled to avoid her fate. Or he’d met her fate. I should go to McGonnigal, tell him what I knew, or rather what I suspected. But. But. I really didn’t have anything concrete. Maybe I’d give the kid twenty-four hours to show up. If he was already dead, it wouldn’t matter. But if he was still alive, I should tell McGonnigal so he could help keep him that way. Round and round I went with it.

In the end I postponed a decision by driving back down to South Chicago, first to drop Nancy’s files at SCRAP, then to visit Louisa. She was delighted to see me, using the remote-control button to turn off the tube, then gripping my hand with her brittle fingers.

When I edged the conversation around to Pankowski and Ferraro and their unsuccessful suit, she seemed genuinely surprised.

“I didn’t know them two was so sick,” she said in her raspy voice. “I saw ‘em both off and on before they died and they never said word one about it. Didn’t know they was suing Xerxes. Company’s been real good to me—maybe the boys got themselves in some kind of trouble. Could see it with Joey—he was always a problem for someone. Usually a girl who didn’t have her head screwed on right. But old Steve, he was your original straight arrow, if you know what I mean. Hard to see why he wouldn’t get his benefits.”

I told her what I knew about their illnesses and death and about the harried life that Mrs. Pankowski led. That brought her cough-racked laugh.

“Yeah, I could’ve told her a thing or two about Joey. We girls on the night shift all could of, come to that. I didn’t even know he was married the first year I was working there. When I found that out you’d better believe I gave him his walking papers. None of that being the other woman for me. Course there was others who wasn’t as picky, and he could make you laugh. Awful to think of him going through what I’m doing these days.”