I fingered the ratty teddy bear in my shoulder bag. As time passed, I began to fret that I’d missed my quarry, or that she had lacrosse practice or junior publishers’ club. Just as I had decided to take my chances on getting into the Banks Street apartment, Catherine Bayard appeared.
Although she was paler than I’d thought from seeing her by moonlight, I knew her at once. Her mouth was wide and tremulous, her face so narrow the cheekbones almost seemed at oblique angles to her nose. Sleep deprivation had produced violet bruises around her eyes.
She was with two other girls who were expostulating loudly about someone’s odd behavior, but Catherine herself didn’t seem to be listening to them. Although one was blond and the other Indian, all three looked remarkably alike in their tight jeans and hip-length coats. Perhaps it was the healthiness and confidence they exuded. Or maybe the wealth that showed up in little details, like the diamond studs ringing the blonde’s ears and the Indian girl’s cashmere cap and scarf.
“Earth to Catherine,” the Indian girl said. “Aren’t you listening?” Catherine blinked. “Sorry, Alix. I didn’t sleep much last night.” “Jerry?” the blonde grinned suggestively.
Catherine forced a smile. “Yeah. Like Gran wouldn’t lose it completely if he came around on a school night.”
Just as the trio turned south on Astor I stepped in front of them. “Hello, Catherine. V I. Warshawski.”
The three girls froze, alarm bells of what happens when strangers accost you ringing in their heads loudly enough for me to hear. The one who’d mentioned Jerry looked over her shoulder for help.
“We met Sunday night,” I said heartily. “When we both decided to go for a late-night run. You left something of yours with me, remember?” “I’ll get P idgeley,” the blonde turned back to the stairs.
“No, Marissa, it’s okay.” Catherine produced another unconvincing smile. “I forgot. I was jogging at midnight and I ran into this woman.” “Jogging? At midnight? You’ve always said runners were the biggest losers on the planet,” Marissa exclaimed.
“Yeah. It’s just, you know, the SATs, my grandfather’s health, all that stuff, I thought I might work some of it off and I couldn’t exactly go out riding in the middle of the night. Anyway, let me find out what this person wants. She seems to think she’s in charge of the universe.”
“Just a small stretch of Chicagoland,” I said, smiling affably. “Where can we talk privately? Banks Street? Or would you like to come to my office?” “There’s a coffee bar on the corner,” Catherine said.
“Not quiet enough. My office is just a couple of miles west along North Avenue. Or-maybe you’d like to visit the old Graham estate. You choose.” She shot an unhappy look at her friends, at me, at the school, and finally decided we could go to her apartment. Her friends stood uneasily by, clearly wondering whether it was safe to leave her alone with me. Finally, Alix said forcefully that Catherine had her pager number; she should just beep if she needed help.
“We’ll be at Grounds for Delight, like, reading until six or so,” the other girl said. “You can catch us there.”
We walked down the street together, an awkward foursome, until Catherine’s friends turned west at the first cross street. Alix reminded Catherine to beep if she wanted them to call 911.
“I worked for the Bayard Foundation one summer when I was in law school,” I said when we were alone. “Before I joined the sex police, I mean. I am one of your grandfather’s many admirers; I’m sorry if he’s ill.”
She turned her head away from me: she was not going to help me.
“I fell into the pond when I was running after you Sunday night,” I said. “That’s how I caught this cold. But it’s also how I found Marcus Whitby.” “Whoever that is. You made your point, you saw me Sunday. Do you really have something of mine, or was that just blackmail to make me come with you?” She kept her head turned away, so that all I saw of her was her left ear. It exposed her youth, that pale shell, and made her seem vulnerable, breakable.
“I really have something of yours. It’s how I found you so easily. What I don’t understand is why you went back to Larchmont last night.”
That startled her into facing me again. “How did you-I wasn’t-I was here in town last night.”
“Your grandmother will no doubt back you up on that. We’ll ask her when we get to your place.”
After a pause she said, “You can ask the housekeeper. My grandmother is still at the office. I was in bed before she got home last night.”
I nodded. “Is the housekeeper Ms. Lantner? She moves between the New Solway mansion and Banks Street?”
“How do you know all this about my family?” she said. “Where I live and everything? How do I know who you are?”