I didn’t pay attention to the qualification or the discussion. I just sat there and let myself feel safe. There were a lot of newly sober people in the room, a lot of people who were having a hard time. Why else would they be there at that hour?

There were some people who hadn’t stopped drinking yet, too. They had to put one of them out, but the others didn’t make any trouble. Just a roomful of people getting through one more hour.

When the hour was up I helped fold the chairs and empty the ashtrays. Another chair folder introduced himself as Kevin and asked me how long I’d been sober. I told him it was my ninth day.

“That’s great,” he said. “Keep coming back.”

They always say that.

I went outside and signaled a passing cab, but when he cut over and started to brake I changed my mind and waved him off. He gunned his engine as he drove away.

I didn’t want to go back to the room.

So instead I walked seven blocks north to Kim’s building, bluffed my way past her doorman, let myself into her apartment. I knew there was a closetful of booze there but it didn’t bother me. I didn’t even feel the need to pour it down the sink, as I’d done with the bottle of Wild Turkey earlier.

In her bedroom, I went through her jewelry. I wasn’t really looking for the green ring. I picked up the ivory bracelet, unfastened the clasp, tried it for size on my own wrist. It was too small. I got some paper towels from the kitchen and wrapped the bracelet carefully, put it in my pocket.

Maybe Jan would like it. I’d pictured it on her wrist a few times—at her loft, during the funeral service.

If she didn’t like it she didn’t have to wear it.

I went over, picked up the phone. The service hadn’t been disconnected yet. I supposed it would be sooner or later, just as sooner or later the apartment would be cleaned and Kim’s things removed from it. But for now it was still as if she’d just stepped out for a moment.

I hung up the phone without calling anyone. Somewhere around three o’clock I got undressed and went to sleep in her bed. I didn’t change the linen, and it seemed to me that her scent, still faintly discernible, constituted a presence in the room.

If so, it didn’t keep me awake. I went right off to sleep.

I woke up bathed in perspiration, convinced that I’d solved the case in a dream and then forgot the solution. I showered and dressed and got out of there.