I stood on the sidewalk outside MoMA with Bram, pressing my thighs together. I would have given my little red auction hammer for a pair of granny panties.

Especially, when Bram Sr. and Sergei walked up to us.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Bram Sr. said, reading the discomfort on my face. “I didn’t see anything. Every time Strena worked on you, I removed my glasses.”

“I didn’t,” Sergei volunteered with an enthusiastic grin.

“Quit provoking your cousin.” Bram Sr. tapped Sergei’s shin with his cane. “My knees hurt. I’m ready to go home.”

“Are you all right?” I asked the older Bram. “Should you even be walking?”

“I’ll bring the car around.” Sergei maneuvered around us, winking back at me, “Great show. I hope you’ll do it again.”

“I’ll bring my car too.” Bram went after him and punched him in the shoulder, leaving me alone with his grandfather on the sidewalk.

I wanted to take advantage of the few minutes we’d be alone. “About Senator Wertheim…”

“Terrible accident at the funeral.”

I lowered my voice. “We both know it wasn’t.”

“Yes. Well, I suppose. What I started, you finished.” He flashed a satisfied smile. “How did you figure out it was him?”

“New Year’s Eve party, Vanderbilt Mansion. I counted back to the year, then searched for old photos on the internet.”

“I’m impressed. I’ve been working on it for decades. Knew who was at the party, had a short list of suspects. I kept bringing them up to Violet to see who made her flinch. I watched whom she avoided. Unfortunately, I suspected the wrong man first.” He fell silent for a moment while an ambulance screamed by. “You wouldn’t know him, an up-and-coming singer in those days. He fizzled out eventually. He showed up at a soiree at Violet’s, and Violet cringed away from him.”

“Did you confront him?”

“Stabbed him with a butter knife.”

A shocked laugh escaped me. “So the rumors of a stabbing at the brownstone were true.”

“You think it’s funny.” Bram Sr. turned baleful. “But he needed stitches. Violet ended up having to paint his portrait so he wouldn’t press charges. She’d only flinched away from him because he was coming from a drunken party and he stank.”

“I went to see Wertheim,” I blurted.

“Did you kill him?”

“No!” I laughed again, because he didn’t look the least appalled. “I told him I knew what he did and that I thought he was scum.”

“I wish you’d taken me.” Now he looked upset.

“It was a spur-of-the-moment adventure. How did you figure him out?”

“He was on my list. And then, at the funeral, I asked him how he knew Violet. He said when they were young, he courted her.”

“Who didn’t?”