“The simple answer is that I did no such thing.”

“And my Juliette, she’s changed. She looks happier than she has in years. What did you do to her?”

“Miss Carr has had a trying day,” said Galen. “We can tell the story better than she.”

“We’ll explain everything on the yacht, Mother,” said Juliette, putting more love into that last word than I could bear.

“And the gloves,” I said. “They’re on the boat. Galen can give them to you all over again.”

“My gloves? Who cares about gloves at a time like this!”

“A sound point.”

“It’s a miracle, simply a miracle.”

“When they explain it all to you, you won’t be as pleased with me.”

She was dangerous. She was murderous. But she was your daughter, and I pushed her to her death. How the hell do you explain such a thing? How can you even try? Mrs. Copeland smiled again and hugged me close, and the whole dreadful week crashed down all at once. I felt so very tired.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’ve changed my life. You’ve saved me.”

“I don’t know if that’s true. Get on the boat and go.”

“But we have to celebrate.”

“Please. Go.”

They boarded the ship, chattering and laughing like a family of tourists embarking on a pleasure cruise. Virgil helped Cherub hoist Van Alen into his coach. Ida Greene walked up to me, wiping the blood away on the hem of her dress.

“How is the big man?” I said.

“It will take more than one bullet to kill Glen-Richard Van Alen.”

“I suppose in this city, that’s true.”

“Now that, Miss Carr, is something I haven’t seen before.”

“What?”

“For a moment, you almost smiled.”

“The Westside needs that man.”

“I’m glad you understand that now. You know, Gilda, you are not such a hopeless detective. If you ever need work, or a home, there is a place for you above the Borderline.”

I thanked her, and I smiled like I believed her, but I knew she was wrong. She climbed atop Van Alen’s coach and drove north. As they disappeared around the bend, Virgil put his hand on my shoulder.

“You should go,” I said. “It’s really not safe here after dark.”

“You’re not coming home.”

“This is my home.”

“It’s Edith Copeland’s home too, but you brought her to leave with those people she’s never met.”

“I don’t know if it was the right thing to do. It might destroy her, but I couldn’t help it. That’s the coward in me.”

“I’ve seen a lot of you today, and not one ounce is a coward.”

“I couldn’t stand telling that woman that I’d killed her daughter, that her husband was never coming back. Somebody deserved to be happy.”

“But not us.”

“You can be. You have Mary Fall.”