“That’s for frogs. They breed in the spring. I try to help them out.”

“Beautiful cat,” I said. He wasn’t. “What’s his name?”

“Murray.”

The house was silent. I wondered if Mr. Snook was in another room, straining to hear our conversation.

“I apologize for disturbing you and your husband.”

“Don’t have a husband.”

The kettle whistled.

“You said your husband gave you a key at the Gold Range yesterday.”

“I lied.”

“Why?”

“My doings are none of your business.”

Okey-dokey.

Snook poured boiling water into the mugs. “Six years ago Josiah went out to buy beer and never came back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.”

Snook handed me my tea, and we took chairs at a dinette set generations younger than everything else in the room. Laminated wooden seats and tabletop, white arms and legs.

As Snook added sugar to her mug, I studied her face, trying to figure which way to go. She beat me to the punch.

“Is my sister really dead?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Someone shot her?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why are you showing that to me?” Tipping her head toward the counter.

I got up and brought the folder to the table. “These are police and coroner’s photos.”

I flipped opened the cover. A five-by-seven glossy of the bathroom-vanity baby lay exposed. The print caught light from the window as I rotated it to face Snook.

“For the past three years, your sister lived near Montreal in a town called Saint-Hyacinthe. Six days ago she went to a hospital emergency room. Based on her symptoms, the attending physician thought she might have given birth. Since Annaliese denied having a baby or being pregnant, he reported his suspicion to the police. The next morning this newborn was found under the sink in Annaliese’s bathroom.”

Snook’s eyes stayed on her tea.

“Look at it, Nellie.”

Snook set her spoon on the table and did as I asked. She took in the sightless eyes, the maggot-filled mouth, the tiny bloated belly. Her shoulders slumped, but she made no comment.

I placed a second five-by-seven on top of the first. “This baby was found in a window seat.”

A third. “This one was in an attic.”

A fourth. “This one was hidden behind a wall in Annaliese’s apartment in Edmonton.”

I allowed Snook time to absorb the horrific reality I was dispensing. Finally, she looked at me, her face impassive.

“She doesn’t know any better.” Flat. “Didn’t.”

“I understand that now.” Gently.

Her eyes settled on a spot halfway to her spoon. Halfway to another place or time, I suspected.

Behind Snook, Murray stretched and mewed softly.

“Do you have any idea who the father or fathers might be?”