“They have him downtown.”

“They have a lot of people,” he said. “See here, Judy, are you afraid he did it, after all? Is that why you are scared?”

“I’m not scared, damn it,” I said, shaking all over again. “He adored her. Ask Mother. No, don’t ask Mother,” I added hastily. “She’s in no shape to be questioned. But it’s true. They were really happy. You can ask the servants. You can ask …”

I suppose I would have babbled on indefinitely if I had not suddenly noticed his face. He looked shocked, like a man who had had a blow. I knew why, too. Six or seven years ago, when he was only a struggling young lawyer, he had been crazy about Isabel. I was at boarding school when I heard it, and I cried all night.

I looked at him that morning and felt as sick as he looked.

“I’m trying to help Larry,” he said. “If it comes to that. Probably it won’t.” He walked over to the window and stood looking out. I remember the sun on his hair, and wanting just once to touch it. But when he turned I realized he didn’t really see me. He had been seeing Isabel instead, lying dead at the top of the stairs in her house. He lit a cigarette and sat down. His face was under control again.

“I want to ask you something, Judy,” he said. “Did you see the chain they found under her?”

“Yes. That man who just went out showed it to me last night. Why, Don?”

“Did she—did you ever see it before?”

“Never. But then she had a lot of things I never saw.”

He drew a long breath.

“Look, Judy,” he said. “I’ve got to tell you something, although God knows …” He stopped. “I gave her that chain, years ago,” he said. “I saw it this morning at Headquarters. I had no idea she still had it.”

I suppose I gasped, for he looked angry.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he said. “I didn’t kill her. Everything between us was over long ago. But I’d given her a ring, and she wasn’t allowed to wear it. The chain was to hang it on.”

I managed to breathe again.

“Have you told them about it?” I asked.

“Not yet. What good would it do? But look, Judy, what about the thing that was strung on it. What is it? You’re a woman. Haven’t you any idea?”

I shook my head.

“Nobody wears things like that nowadays, Don.”

“It must have meant something.”

“Yes,” I said dully. “It must have meant something. I don’t know what.”

He had a whiskey and soda before he left, and he began to look almost human. He even took the time to say that I looked like the wrath of God.

“Why don’t you go to bed and get some rest?” he said.

“I would,” I told him, “only Mother had the idea first.” For the first time that day he smiled, and I smiled back at him. I suppose he was just a nice blond young man who had pulled himself up by his bootstraps, but I had cherished him for a long time, and the smile simply broke me up.