“What didn’t he, is a better question. Tomilo used to say she was sure he meant well, but we are dubious even of that. He seems to be interested in pursuing only those matters which will allow him to be seen to be a great patron of charitable works—not those matters which would make a difference in the lives of the poor. He would rather tear a building down and build a new one than make simple and inexpensive repairs.”

“We understand. And the marquise did not agree?”

“Tomilo was a very practical person. She had no patience for Osmer Bazhevar’s posturing. And he in turn despised her.”

“Would he—did he—describe her as interfering? That is the word the note used.”

“We do not remember him ever using that specific word,” Dach’osmerrem Cambesharan said carefully, “but it is certainly not contrary to his sentiments.”

I would have to talk to Osmer Bazhevar, that much was plain. “Was there anyone else, to your knowledge?”

“No. Tomilo was not a contentious person, othala. She did not make enemies. We still think that Ulzhavel is letting his anger get the better of him. They had been married for fifty years, you know.”

“And there were no children?”

“No. Tomilo never conceived. But Ulzhavel refused flatly to divorce her.”

“Who is his heir?”

“His great-nephew, Otilis Ulzhavar. If Ulzhavel had been murdered, we would tell you to look no further. But Otilis was fond of Tomilo in his own way, and murdering her would avail him nothing.” Her ears twitched. “Gracious, how callous we sound.”

“You have been very helpful,” I said. “Do you remember the name of anyone on the Cemchelarna board?”

“We never served on that board ourself, but just a moment.” She crossed the room to where a secretary-desk stood against the wall. She rummaged through its pigeonholes and returned with a red octavo notebook, which she was paging through as she spoke. “We try to keep track of who serves on which educational committee or board. It saves a good deal of heartache when one is looking for someone to fill a seat—or attempting to start a new … Here we are!” She scanned the page she’d found. “Most of these people will not speak to you, but Hanaru might. Osmerrem Hanaru Ganatharan. She was not one of the people in favor of that idiotic policy.”

“Thank you, Dach’osmerrem Cambesharan,” I said.

“Well, if Tomilo was murdered, we certainly want you to find out who did it,” she said. “But we hope you are wrong.”

“So do we,” I said and bowed.

I took the tram south to the Ulvanensee stop and went to talk to Anora.