"She's emotionally upset."

"Did she have a fight with her husband? He's ahothead, I could hardly blame her."

"The trouble goes a little deeper than that. Ijust called Dr. Godwin the psychiatrist. She's been his patient before."

"You mean to tell me the girl is—?" Shetapped her veined temple with a swollen knuckle.

A car had stopped in the driveway, and Ididn't have to answer her question. Roy Bradshaw came in the front door. Thefog had curled his hair tight, and his thin face was open. It closed up when hesaw us standing together at the foot of the stairs.

"You're late," Mrs. Bradshawsaid in an accusing tone. "You go out wining and dining and leave me hereto cope all by myself. Where were you, anyway?"

"The Alumni banquet. You can't haveforgotten that. You know how those banquets drag on, and I'm afraid I made myown contribution to the general boredom." He hesitated, becoming aware ofsomething in the scene more serious than an old woman's possessiveness."What's up, Mother?"

"This man tells me the little girl inthe gatehouse has gone out of her mind. Why did you have to send me a girl likethat, a psychiatric patient?"

"I didn't send her."

"Who did?"

I tried to break in on their foolishness,but neither of them heard me. They were intent on their game of emotionalpingpong, which had probably been going on since Roy Bradshaw was a boy.

"It was either Laura Sutherland orHelen Haggerty," he was saying. "Professor Haggerty is her counselor,and it was probably she."

"Whichever one it was, I want you toinstruct her to be more careful next time. If you don't care about my personalsafety—"

"I do care about your safety. I carevery much about your safety." His voice was strained thin between angerand submissiveness. "I had no idea there was anything the matter with thegirl."

"There probably wasn't," I said. "She'shad a shock. I just called a doctor for her. Dr. Godwiii."

Bradshaw turned slowly in my direction. His face wasstrangely soft and empty, like a sleeping boy's.

"I know Dr. Godwin," he said. "Whatkind of a shock did she sustain?"

"It isn't clear. I'd like to talk to you inprivate."

Mrs. Bradshaw announced in a trembling voice:"This is my house, young man."

She was telling me, but she was alsoreminding Bradshaw, flicking the economic whip at him. He felt its sting:

"I live here, too. I have my dutiesto you, and I try to perform them satisfactorily. I also have my duties to thestudents."

"You and your preciousstudents." Her bright black eyes were scornful. "Very well. You canhave your privacy. I'll go outside."

She actually started for the front door,drawing her bathrobe around her lumpy body as if she was being cast out into ablizzard. Bradshaw went after her. There were pullings and haulings andcajolings and a final goodnight embrace, from which I averted my eyes, beforeshe climbed heavily up the stairs, with his assistance.

"You mustn't judge Mother tooharshly," he said when he came down. "She's getting old, and it makesit hard for her to adjust to crises. She's really a generous-hearted soul, as Ihave good reason to know."

I didn't argue with him. He knew her better than Idid.

"Well, Mr. Archer, shall we go into mystudy?"

"We can save time if we talk on the road."

"On the road?"

"I want you to take me to Helen Haggerty's placeif you know where it is. I'm not sure I can find it in the dark."

"Why on earth? Surely you're not taking Mother seriously?She was simply talking to hear herself talk."

"I know. But Dolly's been doing sometalking, too. She says that Helen Haggerty is dead. She has blood on her hands,by way of supporting evidence. I think we'd better go up there and see wherethe blood came from."

He gulped. "Yes. Of course. It isn'tfar from here. In fact it's only a few minutes by the bridle path. But at nightwe'll probably get there faster in my car."

We went out to his car. I asked him tostop at the gatehouse, and glanced in. Dolly was lying on the studio bed withher face turned to the wall. Alex had covered her with a blanket. He wasstanding by the bed with his hands loose.

"Dr. Godwin is on his way," Isaid in a low voice. "Keep him here till I get back, will you?"

He nodded, but he hardly appeared to seeme. His look was still inward, peering into depths he hadn't begun to imagineuntil tonight.

chapter 9

Bradshaw's compact car was equipped withseat-belts, and he made me fasten mine before we set out. Between his house andHelen's I told him as much as I thought he needed to know about Dolly'soutpourings. His response was sympathetic. At my suggestion, he left his car bythe mailbox at the foot of Helen's lane. When we got out I could hear a foghorn

© Alexander Sviyash, 2009