Fiji’s arms waved a little, and the Rev nodded, and then he entered the chapel and the boy followed Fiji over to her house. As they walked through Fiji’s front yard, the boy looked around him at all the flowers, blooming gloriously, and the bushes, lush and green despite the Texas heat. Finally he spotted the cat, Mr. Snuggly, and Manfred watched Diederik’s face light up. He scooped up the cat and carried him in the house, Mr. Snuggly’s face visible over the boy’s shoulder like a fuzzy golden thundercloud.

Manfred laughed. It was the best he’d felt in days.

Then Manfred pondered the meaning of the boy’s accelerated growth. He didn’t have a clue. He wondered when Diederik’s father would return. He hoped it would happen before Diederik was six feet tall.

Manfred got a personal phone call about an hour later, just when he’d gotten into his stride on his professional phone site. “Hi, Mr. Bernardo, Phil Van Zandt here,” said a man’s voice. “From Magdalena Orta Powell’s office,” it added helpfully.

“Oh, sure! Sorry, I was deep in the work zone,” Manfred said. “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to say the police department in Bonnet Park wants to question you,” Phil Van Zandt said sympathetically. “They called Ms. Powell. She’s made an appointment there for two this afternoon, which will give you enough time to drive there, stopping for a quick lunch.” Because only barbarians skip lunch, his voice implied.

“Okay, I’ll try to be there,” Manfred said, trying to rearrange his day mentally.

“Ohhhhhh . . . there mustn’t be any ‘try’ about it, Mr. Bernardo. You can be there at two, right? Or Ms. Powell will have to call them to reschedule. And that’ll mean she has to rejigger her whole afternoon.”

“Or you do.”

“Well, yes, but that’s my job. So you can make it?”

Manfred glanced at the clock he kept on the desk. “Yes, I can make it,” he said. “Headquarters of the Bonnet Park police?”

“Yes, right, need the address?”

“Thanks.” Manfred scribbled it down. “I’d better get started.”

“No problem,” said the obliging Phil. “Hope all goes well.”

Cryptic, but pleasant.

Manfred logged out and checked his pockets to make sure he had everything. Unfortunately, he had no good-luck charm to include. Fiji was walking up to his front door as he went out.

“I was going to ask if you’d go with me to Marthasville to buy Diederik some more clothes,” she said.

“Sorry, I have to go in to the police station in Bonnet Park with my lawyer,” he said. “The police want to question me.”

Fiji said, “Here, then.” She put her hands on either side of Manfred’s head, and her lips moved. The pressure of her small hands was intense and felt somehow hot, as though she’d rubbed her hands together briskly before applying them.