“Nooo,” I said slowly. “But I’m not going to try arguing with her, either. Maybe you and I are too allergic to family ties, the ties that bind and gag, to see what positive things she gets out of, well, tying herself to her relations.”

“Why don’t you concentrate on catching criminals, Vic, and leave deep insights to the psychiatrists,” Lotty snapped.

We hung up on that brittle note. It sent me to Pittsburgh in a low frame of mind, but I conscientiously devoted two days to Daraugh. His man Moss had been born and raised in one of Pittsburgh’s tonier suburbs. His life had followed the usual round of Little League, summer camp, high school sports, drugs, arrests, college dropouts, and finally a steady job at a chemical company. That he had been a stockroom boy instead of a division manager shouldn’t have embarrassed him: he’d worked hard for five years and his boss had been sorry to see him leave.

I wrote my report for Daraugh on the plane home. All I had to do was spend an hour in the morning typing it and $1600 was mine. I went from the airport to dancing at the Cotton Club to celebrate my safe return, my virtuous work habits, and my fee.

I took my time getting up on Friday, going for a slow run over to Belmont Harbor and stopping at the Dortmunder Restaurant on my way back for breakfast. Around eleven I packed up my report to take down to the Pulteney to type. I stopped on my way out to let Mr. Contreras know I was home.

He was out back, turning over his eight-foot square of soil. He had put his seedlings in last week and was anxiously ridding them of microscopic weeds.

“Hi, doll. You want to see the princess? You won’t believe how much the puppies have grown since you went out of town. Hang on a minute. I’ll come open the door. I got something I want to talk to you about before you take off.”

He wiped his callused hands on a giant bandanna and picked up his rake and trowel. After losing all his garden equipment last summer he didn’t leave the new ones unattended even for a five-minute break.

While he stowed his tools inside the basement he inquired into my trip, but when he asked for the third time how long the flight took I could tell he had something else on his mind. He has delicate ideas of etiquette, though, and wouldn’t bring up his own concerns until I finished petting the dog and admiring her offspring. She didn’t object to my picking them up and stroking them, but she washed each one thoroughly when it squirmed back to her side.