Paige looked at her watch. “Yes, well, I don’t agree with you. I think I pointed out to you what an obligation I’m under to Niels. He’s coming over in a few minutes, too, so unless you want to meet him I’d suggest you leave.”

I got up. “One last question, Paige darling. Was it the photocopy of Grafalk’s invoice you were looking for in Boom Boom’s apartment the day after the funeral? If it was, I’ve found it. And as for the letter Boom Boom wrote you—‘Beautiful Paige’—I don’t think he sent that to the Royal York in Toronto at all. He wrote you the Sunday before he died, didn’t he? To tell you he didn’t want to see you again. You put it in an old envelope to prove to me that you were writing each other love letters. You knew I’d look at the heading and not read the letter.” I choked on a sob and swallowed it. If I stayed any longer the last threads of my self-control would snap.

Paige watched me with dark, angry eyes as I walked across the Persian rug to the front door. For once her exquisite poise deserted her, lines appeared around her mouth and eyes and she looked older.

Chapter 26

On the Tiles

Back outside I sat on the stoop, unable to move any father. Fatigue fogged my brain. The day had started at Jeannine’s with confirmation that her husband pushed Boom Boom under the propeller of the Bertha Krupnik. Now came the news that her sister had gone out with Boom Boom only to spy on him for Grafalk.

What good would it do Boom Boom if I could prove Grafalk’s complicity in his death, or even in destroying the Lucella and the Poe Lock? Revenge brings only limited satisfaction, and I didn’t feel noble enough to act out of a disinterested sense of justice.

I stood up and looked around vaguely for a cab. A tall figure detached itself from the shadows and crossed the street to me.

“A satisfactory encounter?” Ferrant asked.

“You waiting around for me?” I said. “How about finding me a cab? Speaking as a detective, I guess it was satisfactory. But, as a human being, I can’t say it appealed to me much.”

“Look, how about dinner and you can tell me about it?”

“Roger, I’m too tired to eat and I don’t feel like telling anyone about it.”

He trotted over to State Street and flagged a cab there. He helped me inside and followed after.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me about the interview, but you’ll feel better after something hot to eat and another drink.”