“Or maybe . . .” Annie was thinking. “Maybe he brought something for Charlie. Or he put something in my studio.”

Standish put a finger in the air. “Give me a second. I’ll be right back.”

She left the kitchen. Annie could hear her exchanging words with people in the front hall. There was a commotion of some kind. A couple of minutes later, she returned.

“They’ve moved Mr. Sproule from the house,” she said. “Why don’t we go upstairs and have a look.”

Slowly, Annie rose from her chair and followed the officer. At the foot of the stairs she stared briefly at the spot where her friend and editor had been found, and stepped over it as though he were still there. She went up the steps deliberately, hand gripped on the railing, and when she reached the top she needed a second, as if to orient herself to the house for the first time.

“I don’t see what he could have tripped on,” Annie said, looking down at the top of the steps. “There’s no carpet or anything.”

Standish nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true,” she said. “You didn’t bring a pet from New York, did you? A dog or a cat? Something that might have darted in front of him?”

Annie shook her head.

“Any visitors to the house? Someone else who might have been here?”

“Candace was going to send a handyman around to put chains on the front and back doors.”

“Was there some concern about someone getting in?”

“For Charlie,” Annie said. “The other night? When he was sleepwalking and let himself out? I didn’t want that to happen again. If the chain was mounted high enough, he wouldn’t be able to reach it.”

From where she stood, Standish could see the front door. “I don’t see any chain.”

“He still hasn’t shown up.” Annie sighed. “I guess he takes his time getting to these things.”

“You know his name?”

“No.”

“I can check with Candace,” Standish said. “I know where to find her. Can ask her about the key, too.” She appeared to be thinking.

“What?” Annie asked.

“Maybe he was here when Mr. Sproule was. Maybe they had a disagreement of some kind.”

“And, what? Fin was pushed down these stairs?”

“I’m not saying that. I’d just like to talk to him, that’s all.” Standish smiled. “Just dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s. Show me your son’s room.”

Annie led the way, pushed the door wide open.

“You see anything out of place here? Anything that’s here now that wasn’t here before?”

Annie stepped into the room, walked about. “No.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“You said he might have left something in your studio?”

“Possibly.”