Leland didn’t answer. The idea that people could invest time in such nonsense set his teeth on edge. “I hold him responsible for what happened, anyway. He went for my throat when he asked about my wife’s scrapbook. She saw it—Phyllis—and thought she could get in on it.”

“I don’t follow that.”

“How did he know my wife kept a scrapbook?”

“You said that they knew each other.”

“I didn’t say how. It’s nobody’s business but mine and Karen’s—not even his. His connection is accidental. He knows how I feel about it. He’s never even met Karen, only heard of her, but he didn’t hesitate to use what he knew to get at me.”

“I still don’t understand,” she said.

“We weren’t acting as if I were working for you. Think. What did you do just before he brought it up?”

“God, I don’t know.”

“You slapped my arm.”

“Oh. I wouldn’t do it now,” she said.

“He isn’t sure of that. He doesn’t trust me. And that goes back to the time when he knew of Karen.”

“When was this?”

“Five, six, ten years ago.”

“And he remembered that she kept a scrapbook?”

“You would, too.”

“I can’t remember what she was wearing on Monday,” she said.

“It’s not the same.”

“You won’t tell me about it?”

“I really don’t want to,” he said.

“Now, you think that that one remark—question—caused Phyllis to think she could say what she wanted?”

“Then she lost control. Did you hear her stammer? I gave her the ammunition when I told her I was in the insurance business. Even if I had known what was going to be on the television set, I would have lied to her. It’s your business.”

“I was relieved when you said it, yes. Thank you.”

“Your check when this is over will be thank you enough,” he said.

“There are times when I forget that you’re working for me.” It was a rebuke, playful.

He smiled. “If I had to do the paying, I’d try to forget, too.”

“Now I will slap you. Did you really earn it today?”

“Yes, I think so. Do you understand now why I blame him for what happened?”

“He could have forgotten about how he knew your wife,” she said. “He knows more about you now than just that.”

He put the cup and saucer on the coffee table. “No, he’s too bright and too attuned to that side of life.”

“Phyllis is a strain for him, too, Joe.”

“We’ll see.” He sat back. “I’m ready to tell you what I did today. You have to be ready to listen.”

The increasing seriousness of his tone had its effect. She sipped her coffee and sat quietly. He could almost see her working to clear her mind for what he had to say. He began with his arrival at the hotel and went on to the observable changes in Betty Kaminsky from Tuesday morning. He catalogued his reactions as if they could indicate something of any man’s, and as if they were a part of the woman herself. When he related the things she had told, searching his memory for the order in which she had told them, he tried to give Norma a picture of the tension that had developed. It was easy to omit the exchanges between Betty Kaminsky and him.