“We don’t remember what we told you last time, so that should be no problem,” Mr. Walsh said. He was stroking his wife’s knee in such a casual, distracted way, it was almost as if he were scratching himself. Maybe that’s love, Desmond thought, and then stopped himself from pursuing it further. He’d given up looking for a definition of love. Any definition was bound to be as unreliable and fleeting as the thing itself. “Is there anything you’d like to add here, Jane?”

She pulled a strand of hair back from her face and he saw, for the first time that day, the dark circles of exhaustion around her eyes. “Tell us everything you know,” she said. “Don’t worry about trying to say nice things about Anderton. Our goal is to present her whole life, so if some of it is a little unflattering, it isn’t going to matter. The best way to honor a person is to tell the truth about her, without judging any of it.”

“In that case,” Mr. Walsh said, “I wish we had some filthy gossip, but basically, we were just good pals.”

They didn’t need much prompting once they got going, remembering the first time they’d met Paulie, the first time they’d had her over for dinner, the way she liked to regale them with stories about the people she’d met when she was at the peak of her fame. “Not that we believed all of it,” Mr. Walsh said, staring straight into the camera.

“Not that we believed most of it,” Mrs. Walsh said.

Desmond had heard the bulk of this before, although the Walshes seemed to be adding new details as they went along, perhaps inspired to embellish by the presence of the camera.

“Margo had a fit when she heard Paulie was coming to move in with her,” Mrs. Walsh said. “And Carter, the husband, he came stomping over here and told us he’d move out if that big so-and-so moved in with them.” She used her fingers to pick at her thin, curly hair. “I guess they were worried she’d come in town with that giant personality of hers and suck up all the oxygen.”

“Either that or start singing,” Mr. Walsh chuckled.

“Still,” Desmond said, “you told me they all got along quite well.”

“Oh, I don’t mean they didn’t get along once she arrived.” Mrs. Walsh brought her face down to her glass and sipped off the top inch of liquid. “It’s just that they had a fit when they heard she was coming. Wasn’t that it?”

“They were afraid she’d be bored living out here surrounded by trees. Not that they needed to worry about that with the police showing up a couple times a month.”