“And Jackson Heights,” she said. “All over. It’s been in the family for generations.”

“We can show you the foreclosure file. Some of it, anyway. The buildings went for taxes and water. Two years unpaid.”

“And I’m telling you that’s impossible. I’ve got a management company that runs all my buildings. I’ve worked with them for thirty years. They wouldn’t let that happen.” She was angry and the words were starting to tumble and slur.

Across the room, Anora began to shake her head and make “Stop” motions with both hands.

“The last time I sold a building was 2007, because I thought the market was getting toppy. I was goddamned right,” Miller said. The t in “toppy” projected a fleck of saliva. Ted watched it soar across the intervening space and come up short, landing a foot or so in front of him.

He was beginning to regret the whole encounter. He tried another, less confrontational tack. “How long have you been here, Miss Miller?”

“Oh, don’t try your tricks on me, young man,” she said. “You’re a sharpie. I can tell. Asking direct questions like that and expecting me to shout out an answer. That’s not conversation. We’re having conversation.” She was no longer spitting mad, but her face was bright red. She wasn’t giving an inch.

Anora murmured, “Three, almost four years.”

Miller drew herself up and glared at Anora hard enough to raise welts. “I don’t like you interrupting all the time. I’ve mentioned that before, I think.” Miller looked at Ted thoughtfully for a moment before saying, “I’ve been here three, almost four years.”

Ted felt his resolve dissipating. Barbara Miller was a tough old bird and was covering up well, but the signs were clear. Early-onset dementia had taken both his mother and grandmother; he knew the signs and all the tricks the women had used to cover their errors, confusion, and emotional outbursts. And though the progression of the disease had been erratic, with plenty of good days mixed in with the bad, the end result had never been in doubt.

Even if he could get Barbara Miller to sign an agreement, it would not stand up to a challenge in court.

In a futile attempt to convince Ted that her memory was much better than it appeared, she began telling him all the things that she did remember. What remained unclear, however, was whether these events had actually happened.