“Mimi has lived in this house her whole life. I think she forgets that I'm not actually her grandmother. Her mother worked in the kitchen, and Hymes—the butler—is the child's grandfather. So, Mr Holmes, what brings you to San Francisco and to my door?”

Holmes assembled his words with care, aware that too long a story would tire his hostess cruelly, and too little would not satisfy her.

“I am acting on behalf of a woman whose family was here at the time of the earthquake and fire.”

“This would have been 1906?”

“Yes.”

“I ask because the city shakes and burns with regularity. I remember the 1865 quake vividly.”

“No, this was the recent one. Her parents have since died, but she wishes to know more details about the weeks following the fire. They had a house here in Pacific Heights, and I believe lived in a tent for some time.”

“As did a number of us, in Lafayette Park.”

“Ah. You were here, then?”

“I was. And Hymes, and Mimi, and the rest. We had a staff of, let me see, seven at the time. It was normally nine, but the footman and an upstairs maid had just eloped.”

“Did you by any chance spend some time in the park yourself?”

“Certainly. Best time of my life, those three weeks, an absolute lark. Other than the bathing facilities, but then, an old lady doesn't need to be too fussy about her toilette. No, Hymes found a tent somewhere, the Army I think, and Mimi and three of the others moved in with me. Hymes stayed in the house, at first to fight any fire that might blow in, and later to discourage any looters. I told him not to be silly, that it didn't do any of us any good if he saved the house only to have it fall down on his head, but he wouldn't listen, nor would the other men. They buried the silver, in case of robbers—silly boys, they lost one of the spoons for the longest time, unearthing an entire flower bed before they came across it in the branches of a rose-bush—and took turns watching over the house and over me at the park. They enjoyed the adventure, too—we even had concerts while we were there, around a grand piano one of the families had pushed through the streets from the other side of Van Ness. Yes, everyone was quite restless for a while after we moved back inside.”

“So, you lived in the park for about three weeks?”

“Twenty-three days, I believe it was.”

“The people I'm interested in were named Russell. Charles was an American, would have been in his early thirties, tall, blond hair. His wife—”

“His wife's name was Judith. English girl, Jewish I think. And weren't there children?”

“Two.”

“A little girl, and a baby. Can't remember if the baby was a boy or a girl.”