“Besides,” Magdalena said, pursuing her own train of thought, “his fingerprints could logically be on the bottle. So could the maid’s. Maybe Rachel kept her bottle in the household refrigerator. They could have moved it from one side to another, innocently. They both had access to her pills. And thousands of people take that same medicine. Perhaps the pills could have been introduced into the bottle of water much earlier. She might not have used it in a while. You say she’d been confined to the house, sick, and maybe she only took the bottle with her when she was riding in her car. I’m sure there were many occasions when people were in the house prior to Rachel leaving for her appointment with you. Her entire family was surely in and out during her illness. All of those people might have a reason for wanting her dead at that point in time. Maybe her daughters got impatient for their inheritance.”

Manfred wondered if he looked as dismayed as he felt. “But none of that is true,” he protested feebly.

“It all might be true,” the lawyer said. “There’s plenty of doubt there. Unless the case against Lewis gets strengthened somehow . . . for example, if Bertha the maid says she saw him putting something into his mother’s water bottle, or if he has a girlfriend who taped him confessing to killing his mother . . . there might not be enough real evidence to charge him with the crime.”

Olivia nodded. “I’m afraid that’s the case,” she said. “Of course, Lewis is so unpredictable that he might confess. Though I don’t think so. I think he’s all about Lewis, all about getting everything that’s his due and then some.”

“So really, I’m no better off? Even now that it really seems probable that Lewis killed his mother?”

Magdalena sighed heavily. “I don’t think so. Plus, now you’ve made me angry with you, with good reason, though your friend Olivia is taking the blame. And we have to decide how to get the police to check the globe.”

Olivia said, “Can I just apologize to you very sincerely for using a trick that seemed brilliant to me at the moment?”

“You can apologize, but I hardly think that’s enough.”

Manfred groped around for a response. “What else can we do, Magdalena?” He felt he had to include Olivia in the atonement, since she’d shouldered the blame.

Magdalena sighed again and looked off into the distance. “You can give my mother a reading. A personal reading.”

Olivia looked away, too, to hide her smile, but Manfred saw it. He kept his own face solemn. “Your mom’s a follower? I’m flattered.”