“Emily Gray,” put in her aunt. “Emily’s a sensible woman; it’s good she was there.”

“She gave us cocoa,” said Zoe.

The cocoa apparently ended the discourse. Zoe picked up the cat and sat down, the cat not at all pleased with this maneuver. He didn’t claw the air, but merely wrestled himself out of her arms and slid down to resume his position on the hearth.

Macalvie sat forward, arms on knees. “You didn’t see anyone else about?”

“Well, if I did I’d’ve said, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes, I expect you would.” Macalvie looked over at Zillah, who again scooted away from the bannister dowels to sit back against the wall. “What happened to your sister?”

Again, Hilda Noyes tried to take over. “She won’t say anything. They were out this evening going to—”

Macalvie stomped on this. “Let Zoe tell it, please.” Witnesses hadn’t a clue, had they?

Hilda dropped back in her chair, chastened. “It’s just that Zoe likes to add things on so much—”

“I do not. I just say.”

“Well, sometimes, dear, what you say is not the unvarnished truth.”

Macalvie said, “I’ll take it varnished.” He looked again at Zoe.

She was looking pleased as punch, legs crossed, hands hooked round her knee. “It’s Zillah’s birthday soon and we were walking over to this little shop that sells everything and I was going to let Zillah pick out what she wanted as long as it wasn’t more than two pounds forty. It was—nearly dark. I knew night would come soon, but I didn’t want to scare Zillah, so I didn’t mention it—”

Macalvie bet.

“—the shop is over near Hangman’s Island—”

Another succulent name. Macalvie thought he heard a whimper coming from the stairs.

“You’re upsetting Zillah,” said her aunt.

Tons Zoe cared.

“That’s enough,” said Hilda. “It’s past their bedtime, Mr. Macalvie—”

“Wait,” he said, sitting forward in his chair. “Just one more question.”

Hilda sighed, but sat back, resigned.

“Doesn’t it surprise you that Zillah would just remain silent after seeing, or partly seeing, this body on the beach? Something else happened, didn’t it?”

Zoe’s eyes widened; her look at Macalvie was apprehensive.

Hilda was on her feet now and mad as a hornet. “Now, you go. Please go because you’re just scaring my Zoe to death.”

Macalvie got to his feet. “Frankly, Mrs. Noyes, your Zoe was scaring me.” He tried on a smile, but that didn’t placate her. “Anyway, thank you, Zoe.”

As he walked to the door, he put his hand on her shoulder. But as he crossed the doorsill, Zoe came after him.

“Wait. Wait a minute.”

“Zoe!” her aunt called.

But Zoe pulled the door shut and they were standing outside in the dark. “Don’t pay any attention to Zillah. She’s all right.”

Macalvie thought this a strange injunction. “Why—?”