When I got back to my apartment I stopped to tell Mr. Contreras I was home and let him know Caroline would be arriving soon. My conversation with Lotty had done something to restore my equilibrium. I felt calm enough to abandon my plan for a walk in favor of a little housekeeping.

The partially cooked chicken I’d stashed in the refrigerator Tuesday night had become pretty rank. I carried it down to the garbage can in the alley, scrubbed the refrigerator with soda to deaden the smell, and bundled my newspapers out front for the recycling team to pick up. By the time Caroline arrived a little after four, I’d paid all my December bills and had organized the receipts for my tax returns. I was also feeling all my sore muscles.

Caroline came quietly up the stairs, smiling a little nervously. She followed me into the living room, turning down my offer of refreshments in a soft, breathy voice. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her so ill at ease.

“How’s Louisa doing?” I asked.

She made a throwaway gesture. “She seems stable right now. But kidney failure leaves you pretty depressed-it seems dialysis only gets a fraction of impurities out of the system, so you’re always feeling nightmarish.”

“Did you tell her about the call you got-about Joey Pankowski being your father?”

She shook her head. “I haven’t told her anything. About your looking for him or-or, well, about anything. I had to let her know Nancy was dead, of course-she would have seen it on TV or heard it from her sister. But she can’t take any more upsets like that.”

She played nervously with the fringe on one of the sofa cushions, then burst out, “I wish I’d never asked you to find my father for me. I don’t know what magic I thought you could work. And I don’t know why I thought finding him would alter my life in any way.” She gave a harsh little laugh. “What am I saying? Just having you look for him has changed my life.”

“Could we talk about that a little?” I asked gently. “Someone called you two weeks ago and told you to chase me away, didn’t they? That was when you phoned me with that incredible rigmarole about not wanting me to look for your father.”

Her head was bent down so far all I could see was her wild copper curls. I waited patiently. She would not have made the trek up to Lakeview if she hadn’t decided to tell me the truth-it was just taking her some time to give her courage the last screw.

“It’s the mortgage,” she finally whispered to her feet. “We rented for years and years. Then when I started working we could finally save enough to make a down payment. I got a call. A man-I don’t know who he was. He said-he said-he’d been looking into our loan. He thought-he told me-they would cancel it if I didn’t make you stop looking for my father-stop you from asking all those questions about Ferraro and Pankowski.”

At last she looked up at me, her freckles standing out sharply from the pallor of her face. She held out her hands beseechingly and I moved from my chair to put my arms around her. For a few minutes she nestled against me, trembling, as though she were still little Caroline and I was the big kid who could save her from any danger.

“Did you call the bank?” I asked her presently. “See if they knew anything about it?”

“I was afraid if they heard me asking questions, they might do it, you know.” Her voice was muffled against my armpit.

“What bank is it?”

She sat up at that and looked at me in alarm. “You’re not going to go talk to them about it, Vic! You mustn’t!”

“I may know someone who works there, or someone on the board,” I said patiently. “If I find I can’t ask a few questions very discreetly, I promise not to paw up the dirt. Okay? Anyway, it’s a pretty good bet that it’s Ironworkers Savings & Loan-that’s where everyone in the neighborhood has always gone.”

Her big eyes searched my face anxiously. “It is, Vic. But you have to promise, really promise, you won’t do anything that will jeopardize our mortgage. It would kill Ma if something like that happened now. You know it would.”

I nodded solemnly and gave my word. I didn’t think she was exaggerating the effect on Louisa of any kind of major disturbance. As I thought about Caroline’s frantic response to the threat on her mother, something else occurred to me.

“When Nancy was murdered you told the police I knew why she’d been killed. Why did you do that? Was it because you really wanted me to keep an eye on you and Louisa?”

She blushed violently. “Yes. But it didn’t do me any good.” Her voice was barely a squeak.

“You mean they did it? Cut off your mortgage?”

“Worse. They-they somehow figured out-I’d gone to you about her murder. They called me again. At least it was the same man. And said if I didn’t want to see Ma’s medical benefits cut off, I’d better get you away from South Chicago. So I was really scared then. I tried my best, and when this man called me back I told him-told him I couldn’t-couldn’t stop you, that you were on your own.”

“So they decided to stop me themselves.” My throat was dry; my own voice came out harshly.

She looked at me fearfully. “Can you forgive me, Vic? When I saw the news, saw what happened to you, it shattered me. But if I had to do it again, I’d have to do it the same way. I couldn’t let them hurt Ma. Not after everything she went through for me. Not with all her suffering now.”

I got up and paced angrily to the window. “Didn’t it occur to you, if you told me, I could do something about it? Protect her and you? Instead of running blind, so that I almost got killed myself?”

“I didn’t think you could,” she said simply. “When I asked you to find my father I was still imagining you were my big sister, that you could solve all my problems for me. Then I saw you weren’t as powerful as I’d imagined you to be. It was just, with Ma so sick and everything, I needed someone so badly to look after me, and I thought maybe you’d still be that person.”

Her statement dissipated my anger. I came back to the couch and smiled wryly at her. “I think you’ve finally grown up, Caroline. That’s what it is all right-no big people to clean up all the mess around us. But even if I’m not still the kid who could whip the neighborhood to save your butt, I’m not totally ineffective. I think it’s possible to tidy some of the garbage floating around on this one.”

She gave a shaky smile. “Okay, Vic. I’ll see if I can help you.”

I went to the dining room and pulled a bottle of Barolo from the liquor cupboard, Caroline rarely drank, but the heavy wine helped steady her. We talked for a while, not about our current problems, but general things-whether Caroline really wanted a law degree if she didn’t have to play catch-up with me. After a glass or two we both felt able to return to the discussion at hand.

I told her about Pankowski and Ferraro and the conflicting reports on their suit against Humboldt Chemical. “I don’t know what that has to do with Nancy’s death. Or with the attack on me. But it was when I found out about it and started questioning people about them that someone threatened me.”

She listened to a detailed report on my encounters with Dr. Chigwell and his sister, but she couldn’t shed any light on the blood work he’d kept on Xerxes employees.

“This is the first I ever heard about it. You know the kind of person Ma is-if they sent her in for a medical exam every year, she did it without thinking about it. A lot of things people told her to do on the job didn’t make any sense to her, and this would be one of them. I can’t believe it has anything to do with Nancy’s death.”

“Okay. Let’s try another one. Why did Xerxes buy their insurance through Art? Is Jurshak still the fiduciary on their life-health stuff? Why was it important enough to Nancy that she was carrying it around?”