“You make it sound like a penance,” Aunt Oona said. “Speaking of which, you can all come to church with us on Sunday.”

Darcy shot me a look. “We have Georgie with us,” he said. “She won’t want to—”

“I’ll come too,” I said. “Will your father want to join us?”

Darcy shook his head. “He rejected the church long ago.”

“Stupid man,” Zou Zou said. “Rejecting everything and everyone who could give him comfort and solace. Someone needs to make him see sense.”

So on Sunday morning we all piled into the rolls and joined the villagers of Kilhenny in the little church. It was strange to hear the Latin chanted and to watch the smoke of incense curling up and hovering in the cold air. Strange, but somehow special in a way that church services had never seemed when I was growing up. We got plenty of inquisitive stares and after mass the villagers came up to Darcy, shaking his hand and wishing him well. It was quite moving to see how well liked he was and how the inhabitants of Kilhenny village still felt an attachment and obligation to the O’Mara family.

After mass Oona insisted on visiting Darcy’s father, but he had sunk back into a black mood and didn’t want our company. We drove home feeling subdued and spent a rainy afternoon with each of us wrapped up in our own thoughts.

When we heard nothing on Monday, I began to worry that they would find no information on the true identity of Timothy Roach or that the background of Mickey Riley raised no red flags. In that case Chief Inspector Callahan would be anxious to push ahead with the trial. We were a gloomy lot at dinner that night. Oona hadn’t dared to invite her nephew to join us again, and Darcy had chosen to eat with his father.

Thus we were most surprised when at nine o’clock, as we were sitting by the fire, enjoying a cup of coffee after dinner, there came a thunderous knocking at the front door that set the dogs barking furiously.

“What in heaven’s name?” Oona demanded.

“I’ll go,” Dooley said, getting up hurriedly.

“You? You couldn’t deter a mouse, my darling,” she said. “I present a much more formidable figure.” And she strode toward the door. We waited, holding our breath, for bad news. Then we heard Oona’s deep, booming voice. “Ye gods, Darcy, you scared the pants off us, banging on the door like that.”

“I came as soon as I got the news,” he said breathlessly. “Mr. Lennox just sent me a telegram. He’s heard from Chicago. And he’s driving out to meet with us in the morning.”