“Helen, there’s no need to go into this now, is there?”

“She was upset about something and she tried to talk to him, but Jack said you and Todd made sure she was never alone with him for more than a minute. So she used one of those minutes to slip him a note. Conn found it in the pocket of Jack’s overcoat. It probably should have ended up with the police, but both Jack and Conn knew what it might do to your reputation.”

Lillian glanced at me and said, “Perhaps we should discuss this-”

“Irene has all of Conn’s old papers now, so I’m sure she’ll come across it, if she hasn’t already. Jack kept the note for years, because it was the last thing Katy had given to him, even if it only hurt him to see it. I finally told him to give it to Conn, that Conn could keep it in the collection of things the two of them gathered while they were trying to investigate all that happened on that night.”

“You don’t know that Conn kept it!” Lillian said. “Please-”

“Oh, he kept it. He mentioned it to me when Eric and Ian were facing charges in ’seventy-eight. If he had it then, he kept it.”

Helen turned to me. “The note said, ‘Is it true Mitch Yeager is my father? You’re the only one who will tell me the truth.’” She stared hard at Lillian as she said this last sentence.

“Katy thought Mitch Yeager was her father?” I asked, stunned.

“Damn it, Helen! What have you done to me!”

“All about you, isn’t it, Lily? Well, I’m tired of it.”

“But…Helen,” I asked, “are you saying that Mitch Yeager thinks Max is his grandson?”

“Yes. At least, there’s a real possibility that he does.”

“Is it true?” I asked Lillian. “Was Mitch Yeager Katy’s father?”

“No. I’ve told him that again and again.”

“But he has reason to believe he could be?”

“I don’t think I should answer that.”

“Cut the crap. You tell her or I will,” Helen said.

“You horrid old bitch!” Lillian said.

I thought back to O’Connor’s diaries. “Katy was twenty-one in January of 1958, so she was born in January of 1937, and would have been conceived in April or early May of 1936. Possibly a little later, but prematurely born infants weren’t as likely to survive then, so it’s more likely she was conceived in April or May. Mitch Yeager was on trial around then, but out on bail for most of April.”

“Go on,” Helen said, which drew another plea from Lillian. Helen shrugged and said, “Tell her yourself, then.”

“I…I was a stupid young girl,” Lillian said bitterly. “Mitch and I had been having an off-and-on affair for some time. I had been rather sheltered, and I rebelled. I found there was something exciting about him.”

“You dated Jack Corrigan in April of that year, too,” I said. “I’ve seen that in O’Connor’s diaries.”

“Diaries! He was a child!”

Helen smiled. “Jack told him to keep them, Lillian. Conn also wrote little stories about everything he had seen and heard.”

“Everything?” Lillian said weakly.

“Jack showed a few of them to me when he first started giving him ‘assignments’-they were uncanny. Jack used to say that Conn was born holding a pen, and I believe it’s true.”

Lillian frowned, then admitted, “Yes, I dated Jack. Mostly to make Mitch and Harold jealous, I suppose.”

I remembered O’Connor’s observations and wondered if that was true. But I didn’t say that-couldn’t say that in front of Helen. I was already wondering if I should have kept my big mouth shut about Jack’s previous affairs.

I glanced at her and found that far from looking injured over Lillian’s talk of dating Jack, she looked knowing-almost smug. Maybe she didn’t care about Jack’s past, since she was the only one he married. Of course, Jack and Helen had been friends long before they married, so she must have known that “Handsome Jack” hadn’t lived a celibate life.

Lillian said, “You may not be aware of it, but Winston Wrigley-the first one, I mean-was my godfather. He was furious when he found out that I was dating Jack. One of his own reporters! Then later, Mitch told him that if the paper printed so much as one more negative story about him, he’d tell the world a few stories about me.”

“What kind of stories?”

“The kind that might have caused problems for my marriage.”

I waited.

“You have to understand that Harold was my parents’ choice,” Lillian said, “and though I liked him, he didn’t seem as romantic as the other fellows did to me. Then he did something very romantic-he asked me to elope with him, and I did, in late April.”

Helen stood and walked toward the big windows, looking out on the gardens below them.

“Was Mitch upset?” I asked.

“Upset! I should say so. Mitch had this insane notion-he was sure I had married Harold as quickly as I did because I was pregnant with his-Mitch’s, I mean-child. According to this cockamamie theory of his, since Mitch was in jail and would likely go to prison, there was nothing else I could do, and so in desperation I made a fool out of Harold.”

“You mean he believed Harold was raising his daughter?”

“Exactly.”

“But then, why would he harm Katy?”

“I’ve never been as sure as others are that Mitch himself was behind all of that,” Lillian said primly.

Helen made a noise of derision. “Lillian, tell the truth.”

“All right, I will. Katy hated him and made no secret of it. She never failed to be rude to him, and he resented it-she publicly insulted him, and Mitch won’t tolerate that from anyone. Jack and Helen had something to do with her attitude toward him, I’m sure.”

“If that’s so,” Helen said, “I’m glad of it.”

“Are you?” Lillian said. “What if it cost Katy her life?”

Helen didn’t answer right away. After a moment, she said, “I was always proud of Katy. If Mitch Yeager had anything to do with her murder, and I can prove it, I don’t care what she did to him. Don’t make it sound as if she deserved what happened to her. I didn’t cause her to be murdered, either, Lillian. And you know it.”

“Yes, of course,” Lillian said. “I didn’t mean that. I-oh, Helen, you know I loved her and was proud of her! It was just that you made me so damned angry! Forgive me?”

Helen didn’t answer.

“Helen,” I said, “it seems to me that what’s done is done-the tests are going to be in progress soon. Lillian is right about one thing-Max seems determined to find out whether or not he’s Katy’s missing child. You won’t be able to stop him from doing that.”

She sighed and turned toward me. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Let’s go, Irene. I’m suddenly very tired.”

She fussed a little when I offered to help her climb into the Jeep, complained about how much she hated seat belts when I refused to close the passenger door until she had hers on. Warned me not to slam the door when she gave in and exaggerated a startled jump when I shut it.

I stood outside the passenger side of the Jeep for a moment, a sensation of being watched suddenly coming over me, causing goose bumps to prickle along my skin. I spun around, as if I might catch some watcher unawares, but saw nothing. I looked around me. The street was quiet. No faces stared back from windows in the few houses I could see from here. There were trees and shrubs planted for privacy all along the borders of Lillian’s property. I scanned them, looking for a glimpse of a face, a sign of movement.

Behind me, the passenger door to the Jeep opened. I didn’t need to fake being startled.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I thought I heard someone call my name,” I said. “I was mistaken.”

“Liar,” she said, and shut the door. It didn’t close all the way. She reopened it, on an impressive list of expletives, and slammed it shut again.

The ride to her home was silent. She let me help her out of the Jeep. She gave me a big hug and said, “You’ve endured a morning with two stupid, querulous old women. I’m sorry, Irene.”