Hudson started to deny the accusation violently, but Helen waved her hand. “I know it’s ridiculous,” she said. “But I found it curious that she wouldn’t tell me what, exactly, this apparently lurid information you have is. She said, and I quote, ‘It’s nothing a lady would ever say, Helen.’ ” She laughed. “But as neither you nor I is a lady of Eleanor’s standing, I think you had better tell me,” she concluded.

Hudson told her, as simply as he could, his theory about the manuscript’s origins. When he was done, he watched her face for any indication of her feelings. She took her time and then, completely unnerving Hudson, began to laugh. When she was through she wiped her eyes. “No wonder Eleanor was so beside herself,” she said.

“I don’t understand,” said Hudson. “What’s funny about the idea that Steinbeck and Ricketts might have been lovers?”

“Eleanor tried to sleep with both of them,” Helen answered. “Oh, she’d deny it if anyone ever asked her, but she did. She chased Ricketts around for years, and when Steinbeck moved back here, she made sure she got that job as his assistant.”

“She said he hired her from the newspaper,” Hudson said.

“Yes, he did,” Helen said, nodding. “What she didn’t tell you was that she was working in the advertising department when he came in to place an ad for a Girl Friday. Well, he never did place that ad, and Eleanor quit the paper the same day.”

Hudson couldn’t believe it. “What a little tramp,” he declared.

“If I’d known what you were on about, I would never have sent you to Eleanor,” said Helen. “She’s the original virgin spinster. They modeled all the other ones after her.”

“So she didn’t ...” Hudson started to ask.

“Oh no,” said Helen, understanding his meaning. “Neither of them had the slightest interest in her, from what I understand. But I think she’s convinced herself that they did. She never married, and I wouldn’t be surprised if beside her bed she keeps their framed photos and kisses them every night before she goes to sleep.”

“No wonder she was so upset,” said Hudson.

“Yes, well,” Helen said, “I’m sure she’s told half the board by now that you’re out to besmirch the reputation of our Mr. Steinbeck. Already there may be plans to run you out of town on a rail.”

Hudson laughed, mostly because he could see Eleanor Mintz—and Edgar Macready as well—standing by the side of the road as an angry mob drove him from the city limits. “I’m surprised she didn’t try to poison me and keep me in that mausoleum she calls a house,” he joked.

Helen tapped her glasses against the manuscript. “Why are you telling me all of this now?” she asked.