In the Still of the Night

the sort of thing he’d say. I don’t know. It’s not fair for me to blame her for his death. Just for her taking him away. And even that—well, if she could take him, so could someone else.“
    “Stop being so damned reasonable and fair,“ Lily said.
    Addie almost smiled. “But that’s what I am, Lily. Reasonable and fair. Stupid of me, I know. I hear automobile tires in your drive. Go see to your guests.”

    Lily found it hard to put Addie’s story out of her mind, but what could she do about what had happened to her mentor and dear friend? The man in question was long dead. She wouldn’t let Addie leave if she could help it. The only option was to ask Mrs. Ethridge to pack her things and go. Greed fought with loyalty. And plain old shyness came into it as well. She’d never imagined herself being able to say to a fairly respectable person, “Get out of our house.“ She wasn’t sure she could do it without bursting into tears or fainting.
    Meanwhile, Robert, with a big grin on his face, was showing Cecil Hoornart into the house. Mimi was on duty at the door. “You must be Professor Hoornart,“ she said. “Let me show you to your room, sir.”
    Cecil was a bit disconcerted. How did this aging platinum blonde guess who he was? He didn’t look, at the moment, the least like the sophisticated, well-groomed, intellectual Cecil Hoornart.
    Cecil looked, and feared he smelled, like a hobo. He was taken to a single room on the third floor. Quite a nice little room, he had to admit, with a lovely view of the Hudson River below the grounds behind the house.
    “Wouldcha like me to unpack for you?“ Mimi asked, as Lily had instructed her.
    “No, thank you,“ he said.
    “The bath’s at the end of the hall, sir. Has a little sign on it with a man. Miss Brewster says to tell everyone that the bedroom doors only lock from the inside, so if you have valuables, you can lock them in Mr. Prinney’s safe.“
    “I do have valuables, but they are of worth only to me,“ Cecil said, thinking about his precious manuscript of the biography of Julian West. “I’m waiting for a telephone call from my secretary. Has she rung yet?“
    “I don’t think so, sir. I’ll ask Miss Lily.”
    It took considerable effort to spruce himself up and he discovered that he’d forgotten his hair oil and so his thinning hair looked fuzzy. He’d have to turn out in his dinner clothes soon, but wanted to meet his host and hostess first, and donned his country gentleman clothes. A tweed jacket—the one with the signature leather patches on the elbows—and tan trousers that were getting just a little too tight for comfort. He’d hoped the walk would have worn off a bit of belly, but it hadn’t.
    He ran into Lily on the landing of the stairs.
    “You must be Professor Hoornart,“ she said, extending her hand as she came up the steps. “You disappeared so quickly I missed you. I’m Lily Brewster, and my brother and I are so glad you found time to come here. You won’t remember me, but you came to my school to lecture once and I’ve followed your reviews ever since then.”
    Cecil ran his hand over his hair like a handsome rooster preening his feathers. This was the sort of hostess he liked. One who fawned. Now if the food was up to par, and Julian West would agree to an nice long interview, it would be worth the trip.
    He asked her about a phone call. “I’m expecting a letter from a woman who had worked for Julian West’s family when he was a child. You know I’m writing a biography of him, don’t you? I’ve asked my secretary to call here if the letter arrives while I’m gone and read it to me.“
    “If she calls, I’ll be sure to fetch you to the phone,“ Lily assured him.
    They exchanged pleasant chitchat as Lily showed him around the main ground floor rooms. “It’s a bit of a maze, I’m afraid. Robert and I kept getting lost the first month or so we were here and we suspect there are still rooms we haven’t discovered.“
    “You haven’t lived here long?“
    “Only since last August,“ Lily said, gently steering him toward the yellow parlor. “We inherited it from an uncle we hardly knew and it had been rather badly neglected for a number of years. Especially the grounds, which are still being cleared.”
    The yellow parlor had been selected as the best room for the guests to gather. It had the most comfortable furniture. There were several deep sofas and chairs grouped around the fireplace and