There was so much dismay in her face it started him laughing. He put an arm around her, guided her outside, and locked the door behind them.
'Live and learn,' he said.
'Your house or mine?' Echo said.
'Bayside's closest.'
The O'Neill house in Bayside didn't work out, either; overrun with relatives. At a few minutes past ten Echo unlocked the door of the Yorktown apartment where she lived with her mother and Aunt Julia, from her late father's side of the family. She looked at Peter, sighed, kissed him.
Rosemay and Julia were playing Scrabble at the dining room table when Echo walked in with Peter. She had left her weekend luggage in the hall by her bedroom door.
'This is a grand surprise,' Rosemay said. 'Echo, I thought you were stayin' over in Queens.'
Echo cleared her throat and shrugged, letting Peter handle this one.
Pete said, 'My uncle Dennis, from Philly? Blew into town with his six kids. Our house looks like a day camp. They been redoin' the walls with grape jelly.' He bent over Rosemay, putting his arms around her.
'How're you, Rosemay?'
Rosemay was wearing lounging pajamas and a green eyeshade. There were three support pillows in the chair she occupied, and one under her slippered feet.
'A little fatigued, I must say.'
Julia was a roly-poly woman who wore thick eyeglasses. 'Spent most of the day writing,' she said of Rosemay. 'Talk to your ma about eating, Echo.'
'Eat, mom. You promised.'
'I had my soft-boiled egg with some tea. It was, oh, about five o'clock, wasn't it, Julia?'
'Soft-boiled eggs. Wants nought but her bit of egg.'
'They go down easy,' Rosemay said, massaging her throat. Words didn't come easily, at least at this hour of the night. But for Rosemay sleep was elusive as well.
'All that cholesterol,' Peter chided.
Rosemay smiled. 'Nothing to worry about. I already have one fatal disease.'
'None of that,' Peter said sternly.
'Go on, Petey. You say what is. At least my mind will be the last of me to go. Pull up some chairs, we'll all play.'
The doorbell rang. Echo went to answer it.
Peter was arranging chairs around the table when he heard Echo unlock the door, then cry out.
'Peter!'
'Who is it, Echo?' Rosemay called, as Peter backtracked through the front room to the foyer. The door to the hall stood half open. Echo had backed away from the door and from the Woman in Black who was standing outside.
Peter took Echo by an elbow and flattened her against the wall behind the door, saying to the Woman in Black, 'Excuse me, can I talk to you? I'm the police.'
The Woman in Black looked at him for a couple of seconds, then reached into her purse as Peter filled the doorspace.
'Don't do that!'
The woman shook her head. She pulled something from her purse but Peter had a grip on her gloved wrist before her hand fully cleared. She raised her eyes to him but didn't resist. There was a white business card between her thumb and forefinger.
Still holding onto her wrist, Peter took the card from her with his left hand. Glanced at it. He felt Echo at his back, looking at the woman over his shoulder. The woman looked at Echo, looked back at Peter.
'What's going on?' Echo said, as Rosemay called again.
Peter let go of the Woman in Black, turned and handed Echo the card.
'Echo! Peter!'
'Everything's fine, mom,' Echo said, studying the writing on the card in the dim foyer light.
Peter said to the Woman in Black, 'Sorry I got a little rough. I heard about that knife you carry, is all.'
This time it was Echo who moved Peter aside, opening the door wider.
'Peter, she can't—'
'Talk. I know.' He didn't take his eyes off the woman in black. 'You've got another card, tells me who you are?'
She nodded, glanced at her purse. Peter said, 'Yeah, okay.' This time the woman produced her calling card, which Echo took from her.
'Your name's Taja? Am I saying that right?'