Athena had hated St. Polycarp’s, avoided friendships, and no one was that surprised when she disappeared, particularly since she had just come into a large trust fund from her grandmother.

“Well, I think there was one person who was surprised.” Claire’s voice was honey sweet. “I know you all don’t agree with me, but Southern girls can tell this kind of thing. Athena had a mad crush on Philip. I used to watch her face when he read that sexy Greek poetry.”

Philip’s face turned scarlet. “Sh-sh-surely you-you-you can’t be serious.”

Val’s eyes and lips narrowed, her face flushed. “That’s nonsense,” she snapped.

“Now, Val honey, you weren’t even here at the time. I didn’t say Philip had a crush on Athena. That really would be ridiculous. I said Athena had a crush on him. I just kept thinking about it all night long. After all, the Inspectah did ask us to think on poor Athena.”

Kit and Regan were seated on the scratchy love seat.

“I can’t believe what I just heard,” Kit whispered to Regan.

Instinctively Livingston looked to Regan for her response. “Miss Reilly, you were Athena’s roommate. Do you think she had a crush on the Professor?”

Regan thought that Claire had had a crush on Philip ten years ago. Was this her way of causing trouble? “I can honestly say that if she did, I didn’t notice it. But you must understand, it was impossible to get close to Athena. I gave up trying.”

Livingston’s arm had been on the mantel. He straightened up. “Well, if anything comes to mind that any of you think might be helpful, please let me know.”

“Terribly sorry. I’m so dreadfully late.” Penelope Atwater, her face pale and shiny with perspiration, made a somewhat bedraggled entrance into the room. The pockets of her oversized wool cardigan were jammed with crumpled tissues, the tops of which peeked out in unlovely disarray. Her gathered and rumpled skirt reached unevenly to the general area of her mid-calf. Her flesh-color lisle hose lay in exhausted folds around her ankles, kissing the top of her Reeboks.

“I must find out where she shops,” Kit whispered to Regan.

“Val, you’re a love. That pot of tea really settled my nasty little tummy.”

“Little tummy?” Regan whispered back to Kit.

Like a homing pigeon Penelope swooped on the tray of hors d’oeuvres. “Can you believe I’m actually hungry? A few hours ago I never wanted to see food again. As they say, you’ve got to get right back on the horse . . .”

“Never mind getting back on the horse, we have to get on that ship tomorrow.”