She gave a slight start and then a wary smile. “Hello, Vic. What impertinent questions have you come to ask me? I hope they’re not long, because I’m late for a dinner engagement.”

“Trying to drown your sorrows?”

She gave me an indignant look. “Life goes on, Vic. You need to learn that.”

“So it does, Paige. I’m sorry to have to drag you into a past you’re trying to forget, but I’d like to know who took you to Guy Odinflute’s party.”

“Who—what?”

“Remember the Christmas party where you met Boom Boom? Niels Grafalk wanted to meet some hockey players, trying to decide whether to buy into the Black Hawks, and Odinflute gave a party for him. Or have you blocked that out along with the rest of the dead past?”

Her eyes blazed suddenly dark and her cheeks turned red. Without a word, she lifted her hand to slap me in the face. I caught her by the wrist and gently lowered her hand to her side. “Don’t hit me, Paige—I learned my fighting in the streets and I wouldn’t want to lose my temper and hurt you … Who took you to Odinflute’s party?”

“None of your damned business. Now will you leave the theater before I call the guard and tell him you’re molesting me? And please do not ever come back. It will make me ill to have you watch me dance.”

She moved with angry grace down the hall and out the front door. I followed in time to see her get into a dark sedan. A man was driving but I couldn’t make out his face in the dim light.

I didn’t feel in the humor for company, even Lotty’s astringent love. I gave her a call from my apartment to tell her not to worry. She didn’t, usually, but I knew she’d been pretty upset after the destruction of the Lucella.

In the morning I went down to the corner for the Sunday Herald-Star and some croissants. While the coffee dripped in my porcelain coffeepot I tried Mattingly. No one answered. I wondered if Elsie had gone to the hospital. I tried Phillips, but no one answered there either. It was almost eleven—maybe they had to put in a ritual appearance at the Lake Bluff Presbyterian Church.

I propped the paper up against the coffeepot and sat down to work my way through it. I’d once told Murray the only reason I buy the Herald-Star is because it has the most comics in the city. Actually, it has the best crime coverage, too. But I always read the funnies first.