“Personal relationships aren’t relevant. I don’t care how clever or charming Ned was in those days. The pathologist’s opinion would have been based on autopsy results, not schmoozing with him.”

“I’m not saying he did anything, so I should refrain from comment. To do otherwise is unchristian.”

“Don’t hesitate on my account. I don’t even go to church.”

“For shame,” she said mildly, still surveying the loose pieces for another fit.

“Was she unhappy?”

“Of course. Divorce was impossible for the same reason suicide was. Marriage is a sacrament. Lennie’s mother was furious she’d gotten pregnant to begin with and scandalized when she talked about leaving him.”

“Really? She told her mother she was leaving him?”

“She hinted at it. There’d never been a divorce in the family, and Marcella said Lenore was not going to be the first.”

“Did Ned know she talked about leaving him?”

“If he did, Marcella’s the one who told him. She was crazy about Ned. He played up to her. He was downright flirtatious, for lack of a better word. I could see what he was doing, but Marcella would brook no criticism, and it wasn’t my place to interfere.”

“Just a stab in the dark here, but didn’t Lenore get pregnant because of the Church’s stance on birth control?”

“She got pregnant because she was naive and inexperienced. Ned told her it wasn’t that easy. I’m sure he’d have said anything to get what he wanted from her. By the time I set her straight, it was too late.”

“What about Ned? Was he unhappy in the marriage as well?”

“If so, I’m the last person he would have told.”

“Do you believe he killed her?”

“You asked me that once.”

“I’m just wondering if he had reason to get rid of her.”

“I don’t know why a man like that does anything. I said the same thing to Mr. Wolinsky. All I’m offering is my opinion.”

“Fair enough. Let’s put it another way. Did other people believe he killed her?”

“I don’t know what other people believed. I heard talk, which I won’t repeat because it’s not my place.”

“Are Lenore’s parents still alive?”

“Oh my stars, no. Marcella died of cancer in 1976; her husband a year later of a heart attack.”

“So there’s no family left?”

“Two sisters, but they both married and moved away. This was some time after she died. The family was devastated. I don’t know where either girl ended up. Father Xavier might know.”

I thought about the two photographs I’d found. “I came across a snapshot of Lenore the day she was confirmed. She must have been twelve or thirteen.”

“Eleven and a half. I was there that day. She was a lovely child and a lovely young woman.”

“Why did she dye her hair?”

“Who?”

“Lenore. In the photograph of her with April, I was struck by how unhappy she looked. She’d dyed her hair a bleached blond that made her look hard. I wondered if the change was a sign of her illness.”