He went upstairs. In a little while I heard him playing his flute—a Bach minuet, I think. Then I went into Jack’s room and got his yellow legal pad, the one he had been using most recently to write his novel. The first page was half filled with his scribbling, but the only thing I could make out was the page number—five hundred and something. I never could read Jack’s handwriting.

I found a ball-­point pen and went out to the kitchen, where I tore off the uncompleted page, crumpled it and threw it away. Then I sat at the kitchen table and wrote some letters of instruction, one to our Scarsdale lawyer, Bill Levitt, and another to my sister Marilyn in Albany.

Jack and I had made wills at the same time, and mine specified that in the event of his preceding me in death the estate should go to the children, with Marilyn as guardian and Bill Levitt as executor. I asked Bill to see that the terms of the will were carried out, and I asked my sister to be loving in the care of my children.

Finally I wrote a note to Duff, asking him not to try to understand what I was doing, but to be assured that it was necessary. I told him to look after his sister and see that she was moved to a good hospital or nursing home near his aunt’s home in Albany. Last, I asked him to have my body cremated—I didn’t want any part of the Caine graveyard, although I didn’t tell him that—and then to go to his aunt’s home immediately and make the arrangements for Franny. For some reason, I had the notion that once I was out of the way, Franny would quickly return to normal. Sometimes I still think that.

Then I went upstairs, got the pills from the drawer where I had hidden them, returned to the kitchen and made myself some cocoa. All together I had twenty-­eight pills, and I thought that many ought to do the job. I put them in the cocoa, and after they had dissolved I tasted the mixture. It was slightly bitter, but not unpleasant. After a couple of more sips it didn’t seem to taste any different from ordinary cocoa.

Then Duff came downstairs again. “I was wondering what you were doing,” he said.

I turned my letters over quickly. “Nothing,” I said. “Getting ready to go to bed.”

“Could I have some cocoa too?” he asked.

“Sure.”