He listened to her in the kitchen. In a few minutes the light went out, and then he heard her on the stairs. He rubbed the back of his hand. The warmth of the house had eased some of the sting, but there was an itching now that told him that it would split wide open if he did not put something on it. Maybe he could find something in the medicine cabinet of the hall bathroom. It was taking a conscious effort to keep him from going at the thing with his fingernails.

He had to try to keep what he knew about the case in the front of his mind. The things he had learned since he had begun to see people pushed at what Norma had told him; the papers in the insurance file, and the souvenir book. They were not less true for what he had heard from the witnesses. MacIver’s income and the behavior of the Clausen police said that he had come far and fast in the years since he had arranged his divorce. Probably Leland and his own friends would not have touched him, for there was a stink about him, but there was this home, his marriage, and his war record, which all of them would have admired.

“Steffie? It’s Daddy. How’s everything going?”

“All right. You almost caught me in the bathtub. Mommy won’t be home until ten-thirty. Mrs. Robertson called during dinner. Do you know about her?”

“Yes. Oh, yes.”

“She had to have Mommy at her meeting. Mommy was mad enough to scream. She’s going to be even madder when she hears that you called while she was out. Are you going to call back?”

“I don’t think so, honey. I’m tired myself and she may not be home until eleven o’clock. Will you give her a message? I’ll be up home tomorrow during the middle of the day and I’ll call her then. Tell her I’m sorry I missed her. I’m fine and everything is going well. That will mean something to her. Now, what’s new with you?”

“Mommy said that the trip to Canada is off.”

“I think so. I’m sorry. This came up.” He could not tell her that she might be coming to Port Smith if Karen had not mentioned it.

“Do you think we’ll be able to go next weekend?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. And the weather will close in soon. I wouldn’t kid you about it, I want to go as much as you do. Do you have that door locked?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You love me? I love you.”

“I love you,” she said. “Are you all right?”

“Sure.”

“You sound lonely,” she said.

He had been worried about her loneliness; that was what she had heard in his voice, but her comment seemed to hit a mark.