On the fourth list she had checked Wendell Roberts and a man she had met at a neighborhood party, barbeque—she might remember if she had the chance to think. All she could tell Leland now was that the man was thin, bookish, musty-looking. He was a college instructor or the husband of one. Leland said that it would be a simple thing to clear up. He folded the papers and put them back in his pocket. She clasped her hands.

“Aren’t you going to tell me what this is about?”

“One more question. What did you do the night after you cleaned out your husband’s office?”

“The night it was broken into, you mean? I was here. Wendell made the funeral arrangements. The body had to be recovered from the Clausen County authorities. That was done the next day. It’s very confused in my mind-—do you have to have this? I’d have to work on what I remember.”

“You were here alone, that’s the thing,” Leland said.

“No, not alone. People from the neighborhood came over. You know. Some girls from my last job. I made calls that afternoon. They were here, and the neighborhood people. I stayed here in the living room and other people ran my house, made coffee, answered the telephone and the door. I hadn’t seen some of them in months and months. People can be awfully nice sometimes.”

“When did you find out about the funeral arrangements?”

“Wendell called. I didn’t have to go to the funeral parlor until the next afternoon. He had done everything. You’re trying to divert me, Joe. Are you going to tell me what you learned?”

“Not right now.” She had not seen Roberts the night of the break-in. “I’d like your permission to photograph some of the things Mike has been working on. He’s already gone back to Manitou. He’ll be waiting for my call.”

“Joe, you can’t expect me to be happy with this.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.” He took out his cigarettes.

“Do what you have to,” she said. “You told me that you’d be going to a hotel if your wife came down for the weekend. I guess that answers the other questions. At least you and your wife can talk. After last night—well, I won’t say it.”

“That’s right. I thought that we weren’t going to discuss it today.”

“Not this part, another. You and me.” She shook her head and looked at him. “Are you trying to kid me? I can’t live with liars. I thought I told you that.”

He turned to go. “I’ll call you.”

“Why are you doing this? I can’t play games. I don’t want to.” He had stopped. She was getting up. “There was a time when I thought I was finished with playing games. Please, Joe.”