“No, thank you,” she said. “I’ll take it as is.” She was wondering where she’d put it and began to wish she’d gone for something out of Kane’s early years. They made appreciative sounds over the print for a minute, and then Gould rolled it up and put it into a tube.

“Did he become depressed after the Mount Hope event?” asked Solly casually.

Gould pressed his fingertips against his temples as if the memory were painful. “Oh yes. He was never the same after that.”

“In what way?”

“It’s hard to explain. He’d always been friendly, outgoing, easy to talk to. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration. But he wasn’t a difficult man, in the way that talents frequently are. But all that went away. He became exceedingly withdrawn. About that time, I was going to Severin Village most nights. My wife lived there then. We weren’t married yet, you understand. And I used to make it a point to go by his place, Kane’s place, to see how he was doing. He wasn’t known then the way he is now. But I knew, I always knew, he was going to be great one day.

“He sold his work through me. He wasn’t getting much for it in those days, nothing like what it would command now. But he didn’t need the money. The paintings were just something he did. You know what I mean?”

She nodded.

“Did I tell you I was there when it happened? When the mountain blew up?

“It was terrible. The town was kind of down low and sheltered so it didn’t get hit directly or we’d’ve all been dead. But pieces of rock and whole trees fell out of the sky. We didn’t know what hit us. Then there was the dust. People choking and dying—” His eyes had gone distant. “Sasha and I did what we could, but—” He held out his hands. “But you don’t want to hear this.”

Kim and Solly stood quietly, waiting.

“By then I was trying to hold onto his work. Buying his paintings myself because I knew they were undervalued. I brought them back here and just waited for the price to go up. Now they’re worth thirty, forty times what they were. And it’s still a seller’s market.” He turned back toward the Autumn. “Look at that; you ever see anyone with that kind of range? Maybe Crabbe. Maybe Hoskin. No, not Hoskin.” He shook his head vehemently, dismissing Hoskin.

“Did you by any chance know Kile Tripley?” asked Kim.

“Tripley? No. Tripley lived in a villa well away from everybody else. He was above spending time with the common people.”

“Would you say he and Kane were friends?”

“Not particularly. No.”

“He was Kane’s employer,” said Kim.

“That’s not the same thing as being a friend.”

Kim was having a hard time keeping her eyes off the Autumn. “One more thing, Mr. Gould,” she said. “I’m interested in what caused his dark period. Did you sense there was anything other than the explosion that might have influenced his later work? A lost woman, perhaps?”

“I know he was affected by what happened to her.” He looked meaningfully at Emily’s image.

“Did he say that?”

“You can see it in his work. But he never outright said it, no.”

“Anything else?”

“Not other than what I’ve told you. He just more or less went into a shell. Rattled around inside that big house. Sealed off the den, even.”

“Sealed off the den? How do you mean?”

“It had been, I’d stop by, we’d go into the den, have a few drinks. He’d tell me about his latest project. The living room was a formal, stiff place where he didn’t like to go. Then suddenly we were always in the living room and I never saw the den again. I don’t suppose it meant anything, but it was strange. As if he were hiding a woman in there.”

They had dinner at a place called The Rucksack. Snow was beginning to fall and a crisp wind had blown up. Solly plowed steadily through the meat and greens. “As soon as we’re finished here,” he said, “I think we ought to get going.”

“Yeah. Before the weather gets any worse.” The predictions called for the snow to stop around midnight, and for colder temperatures to set in.

“I’m surprised at your choice of artwork,” said Solly.

“Why? It’s quite attractive.”

“I’d have thought you’d have wanted one with Emily. The Autumn. You seemed taken by that.”

She lifted a wine glass and watched it sparkle in the light from the fireplace. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I wanted something I could hang on the wall.”

Solly looked at her. “Is it still that painful?”

She shrugged. “That. And the nudity.”

“I didn’t think you were a prude.”

“I am,” she said, “when the model looks too much like me.”

Solly had been a friend for a long time. Kim felt especially drawn to him that night, perhaps because he’d come with her even though, despite what he said, he thought she was pursuing an illusion. Well, they both thought that.

That night, standing beside him on the walkway overlooking Eagle Point, with the snow blowing and the Severin Woods just downriver a few kilometers, she nearly suggested that they spend the night together. Forget the ghost. But when Solly mentioned that it was late and they should get going, she put the thought aside, and fastened her jacket.

It was after eleven-thirty when they lifted off the Gateway’s roof and turned south.

Snow was falling steadily. The lights of the casinos and clubs were smeared by the storm, and they faded quickly as the Starlight gained altitude. The screen showed almost no air traffic.

“Do you feel as dumb as I do?” she asked Solly.

He was relaxed, sipping coffee, letting the AI fly the aircraft. “It was an excuse to come,” he said. “Think how warm your bed’ll feel tonight when you get to it.”

The sensors picked out the river, running between wide, forest-laden banks. She looked out into the snowswept darkness and saw another set of lights coming from the west. Probably a train, although it was difficult to be sure.

She took out the town map she’d printed earlier and studied it. “When we get to Severin,” she said, “I think we should do more than just land and hang around for a bit.”

“In this blizzard? What did you have in mind, Kim?”

“Take advantage of the opportunity to look at Tripley’s villa.”

“Why?” asked Solly.

“Who knows what we might find?”

“After twenty-seven years?”

“Nothing to lose by looking.”

“Okay,” he said. “Whatever you say. But if there’s anything there to connect him with the explosion or the missing women, I’d think the police would have found it a long time ago.”

“As far as I can tell from the accounts, the police never looked.”

“They didn’t? Why not?”

“Nobody raised the question. My guess is that there was no substantive reason to think Tripley had anything to do with either incident, and the family had a lot of influence. There was already enough grief. He was presumed lost in the general disaster. What was to be gained by an investigation? Under the circumstances, maybe nobody wanted to irritate the family.”

“Okay,” Solly said. “If you want. Do we know where to find it?”

“As it happens,” she grinned, “I have it marked here.” She tapped her pen on the map.

“Why stop with Tripley? Why not take a look at Kane’s place while we’re at it?”

The Starlight was picking up a heavy headwind. “Kane’s place is underwater.” She showed him.