“Yes, indeed,” I said enthusiastically. “I know Mr. Contreras here, who worked with Eddie for—was it thirty years?—would love to put a pool in our backyard, but our co-op board won’t let him.”

“Come on, doll,” Mr. Contreras said indignantly. “You know I don’t want to do anything like that. And even if I did, I don’t have the money for it.”

“You don’t?” I said, reproachful. “I thought you worked hard all your life, just like Eddie Mohr. I know you said you could afford a car if you wanted one, although not necessarily a Buick Riviera along with an Oldsmobile.”

A shade of alarm crossed Mrs. Mohr’s face. “Eddie was the president of the local for a long time. He did a lot for them at Diamond Head, and he got a special—special agreement when he retired. We didn’t want to say anything to any of the other men on the floor, because we knew it might not seem fair. We only could afford all this when he retired. They just finished work on the room here and the kitchen two months ago. But there was never anything dishonest about it. Eddie was a very honest man. He was with the Knights of Columbus and he was on the parish council. You can ask anyone.”

“Of course.” I sat in the chair Judy had vacated and patted Mrs. Mohr’s hand in a soothing way, wondering if I was being as big a scab as I felt. “What kinds of special things did he do for them at Diamond Head?”

She shook her head. “Eddie was a decent man. He left his work at work and never bothered me with it. When we were starting out, when it was the two of us with Cindy and her brothers, I had to work too. I baked cakes at Davison’s. It’s too bad we couldn’t have had some of this money back then.”

“It’s only because the neighborhood went down so much that Dad could afford to do this,” Mrs. Johnson said. “Lots of houses standing empty. He could have moved away. He should have moved away. But he wanted to stay here because he grew up here, so he bought the lot behind us and added the pool. He was only helping the neighborhood and then they had to go and shoot him.”

In the distance we heard the doorbell ring. Cindy Johnson moved off to answer it, patting her matted hair without seeming to feel it.