In the end I postponed a decision by driving back down to South Chicago, first to drop Nancy’s files at SCRAP, then to visit Louisa. She was delighted to see me, using the remote-control button to turn off the tube, then gripping my hand with her brittle fingers.

When I edged the conversation around to Pankowski and Ferraro and their unsuccessful suit, she seemed genuinely surprised.

“I didn’t know them two was so sick,” she said in her raspy voice. “I saw ’em both off and on before they died and they never said word one about it. Didn’t know they was suing Xerxes. Company’s been real good to me-maybe the boys got themselves in some kind of trouble. Could see it with Joey-he was always a problem for someone. Usually a girl who didn’t have her head screwed on right. But old Steve, he was your original straight arrow, if you know what I mean. Hard to see why he wouldn’t get his benefits.”

I told her what I knew about their illnesses and death and about the harried life that Mrs. Pankowski led. That brought her cough-racked laugh.

“Yeah, I could’ve told her a thing or two about Joey. We girls on the night shift all could of, come to that. I didn’t even know he was married the first year I was working there. When I found that out you’d better believe I gave him his walking papers. None of that being the other woman for me. Course there was others who wasn’t as picky, and he could make you laugh. Awful to think of him going through what I’m doing these days.”

We talked until Louisa fell into her gasping sleep. She clearly knew nothing of Caroline’s worries. I had to hand it to the little brat-she did protect her mother.

Mr. Contreras was waiting anxiously on the front walk when I came home. The dog, picking up his worried state, yawned nervously at his feet. When they saw me each expressed his joy: the dog leapt around me in little circles while the old man scolded me for not leaving him my day’s route.

I put an arm around him. “You aren’t going to start breathing down my neck, are you? Repeat twenty times a day-she’s a big girl, she can fall on her butt if she wants to.”

“Don’t joke about it, cookie. You know I shouldn’t say this, I shouldn’t even think it, but you’re more family to me than my own family. Every time I look at Ruthie it beats me how Clara and I coulda had a kid like that. When I see you it’s like looking at my own flesh and blood. I mean that, doll. You gotta look after yourself For me and her royal highness here.”

I gave a wry smile. “I guess I take after you, then-I’m real hardheaded and stubborn.”

He thought it over a minute. “Okay, doll,” he agreed reluctantly. “You gotta do things your way. I don’t like it but I understand.”

When I went in the front door I heard him saying to the dog, “Takes after me. You hear that, princess? She gets it from me.”

Despite my bravado with him, I’d been watching my back off and on all day. I also checked my apartment carefully before sitting down with my mail, but no one had tried getting past the reinforced steel in the front door or the sliding bars on the back.

I couldn’t face another evening of whiskey and peanut butter. Nor did I want my downstairs neighbor feeling he had the right to hover over me. Carefully locking up once more, I headed over to the Treasure Island on Broadway to stock up.

I was sautéeing chicken thighs with garlic and olives when Max Loewenthal phoned. My first thought on hearing from him out of the blue was that something had happened to Lotty.

“No, no, she’s fine, Victoria. But this doctor you asked me about two weeks ago, this Curtis Chigwell-he tried to kill himself You didn’t know that?”

“No.” I smelled burning olive oil and reached my left hand the length of the cord to turn off the stove. “What happened? How do you know?”

It had been on the six o’clock news. Chigwell’s sister had found him when she went to the garage for some gardening tools at four.

“Victoria, I feel most uncomfortable about this. Most uncomfortable. Two weeks ago you ask for his address and today he tries to commit suicide. What was your role in this?”

I stiffened immediately. “Thanks, Max. I appreciate the compliment. Most days I don’t feel that powerful.”

“Please don’t turn this off with your flippancy. You involved me. I want to know if I contributed to a man’s despair.”

I tried to control my anger. “You mean did I go throw his ugly past in his face to the point where he couldn’t stand it and turned on the monoxide?”

“Something like that, yes.” Max was very grave, his strong Viennese accent heavier than usual. “You know, Victoria, in your search for the truth you often force people to face things about themselves they are better off not knowing. I can forgive you for doing it with Lotty-she’s tough, she can take it. And you don’t spare yourself But because you are very strong you don’t see that other people cannot deal with these truths.”

“Look, Max-I don’t know why Chigwell tried to kill himself I haven’t seen a medical report so I don’t even know that he did-maybe he had a stroke as he was turning on the car engine. But if it was because of the questions I was asking, I don’t feel one minute of remorse. He’s involved in a cover-up for Humboldt Chemical. What or why or how serious I don’t know. But that has nothing to do with his personal strengths and weaknesses-it has to do with the lives of a lot of other people. If-and it’s a mighty big if-if I’d known two weeks ago that my seeing him would make him turn on the gas, you’d better believe I’d do it again.” By the time I finished speaking I was breathing hard, my mouth very tight.

“I do believe you, Victoria. And I have no wish to talk to you in such a mood. But I do have one request-that you not think of me the next time you need help in one of your chases.” He hung up before I could say anything.

“Well, damn you anyway, you righteous bastard,” I shouted at the dead phone. “You think you’re my mother? Or just the scales of justice?”

Despite my rage I felt uneasy-I’d sicced Murray Ryerson on the guy in the middle of the night. Maybe they’d hounded him and his imagination had converted a minor peccadillo to murder. Hoping to ease my conscience, I tracked the crime editor down at the Herald-Star’s city desk. He was indignant-he’d sent reporters out to question the doctor about Pankowski and Ferraro, but they’d never been allowed in.

“Don’t give me hounding, Miss Wise-ass. You’re the one who talked to the guy. There’s something you’re not telling me, but I’m not even going to speculate on what it is. We’ve got some gofers down at that Xerxes plant and we’ll get on it faster without mixed signals from you. We’re running a lovely human-interest story on Mrs. Pankowski tomorrow, and I expect to have something from that lawyer, Manheim, who represented them.”

Murray did finally part grudgingly with more details about Chigwell’s attempted suicide. He had disappeared after lunch, but his sister didn’t miss him since she was busy around the house. At four she decided to go to the garage to check over her gardening gear so she’d be ready for spring. Her comments to the press did not include any mention of me or Xerxes, just that her brother had been troubled the last several days. He was prone to depression and she hadn’t thought much about it at the time.

“Is there any doubt he did it himself?”

“You mean did someone come into the garage, bind and gag him, strap him into the car, then undo the ropes when he was unconscious, assuming he’d die and it’d look like suicide? Give me a break, Warshawski.”

When I finally finished the conversation I was in a worse mood than I’d been at the start. I’d made the cardinal sin of giving Murray far more information than I’d received in exchange. As a result he knew as much about Pankowski and Ferraro as I did. Since he had a staff who could follow a range of inquiries, he might well untangle what lay behind Humboldt’s and Chigwell’s lies before I did.