Seven Minutes to Noon

against her, but she held fast. “Pam never told me the price.”
    Judy nodded and didn’t smile and that worried Alice. She could hear it coming, some astronomical asking price for this sweet jewel of a house. If they could pay one point two, as Pam had showed her they could, then of course this house would turn out to be one point seven or eight or nine, bringing it well past their reach. She could feel the disappointment wash over her before Judy spoke.
    Judy reached into her purse for the property listing and consulted the top of the page. “The asking price seems to be nine ninety-five.” She looked at Alice. “But there may be room for negotiation.”
    “Mike.” Alice summoned him up the stairs. “Can we talk just a minute?”
    He nodded, and together they ushered Nell and Peter back into the kitchen. Judy stayed behind in the basement, waiting for her cue.
    “What do you think?” Alice whispered. “Believe it or not, that’s a really good price.”
    Mike glanced around the kitchen. “I like it a lot.”
    “This house is perfect.”
    “Okay,” he said, “let’s do it.”
    Alice called Judy from the top of the basement stairs. She came up, making an effort not to smile, Alice thought. She was good at this in a different way than Pam was. Judy was controlled, seasoned, whereas Pam would have been howling in delight. Pam wouldn’t wait to be told what Alice thought; she would know, and would insist they grab the house while it was still on the market. Honey, don’t be an idiot. Take it.
    “We want to offer the asking price,” Alice said.
    “Well! I’ll be happy to pass that on to the seller.”
    They left the house, Judy locked up, and they said good-bye standing in the front gardens.
    “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear,” Judy said, then went to the corner, where she waited alone for a car to pass.
    Alice just then had a thought and turned around to walk back toward Judy. “Maybe you know who JuliusPollack’s partner is?” Until now it hadn’t occurred to her to ask Judy directly.
    Judy’s expression was blank, a sky without clouds or horizon lines, surreal.
    “Julius Pollack,” Alice explained, “who owns Metro Properties. You must handle some of their apartments.”
    “Yes,” Judy said. “Of course we do. As far as I’m aware, he works alone.”
    “Are you sure? I’ve seen a few mentions of a partner but no one seems to know who it is. I thought you might.”
    “No, dear. Sorry.” The light on the opposite corner switched to the white WALK signal, but Judy didn’t seem to notice; her eyes stayed on Alice. “Why the interest in a partner? If there even is one?”
    It seemed the strangest question, Alice thought, considering recent events. Why wouldn’t they want to know the identity of the silent partner behind Lauren’s and Alice’s evictions? The identity of the person Pam had been trying to unearth when she was attacked?
    “The house where you live is owned by Julius Pollack alone,” Judy said, suddenly well informed. “Not Metro. It seems to me, dear, that your eviction is a very personal matter, not connected to Metro Properties, not really.” Judy finally released her full smile, broad and steady, surprising Alice with neat rows of tiny, white teeth.
    “Alice!” Mike called. He was already half a block along, keeping up with the restless children.
    “I was just wondering,” Alice said.
    Judy’s attention moved to the flashing orange DON’T WALK sign; the traffic signal was about to change. She stepped into the street, preparing herself to cross. “I’ll let you know about the offer. It’s a wonderful house, isn’t it?” She walked away, not waiting for an answer.
    Alice eventually caught up with her family as they were entering Carroll Park. Nell and Peter ran down twoseparate paths to the park’s center. Almost immediately, Peter ran back toward his parents, weeping.
    “Where’s my fire truck?” He pressed his face into the side of Alice’s belly.
    Alice stroked his hair. “Did you put it down just now? Is it in the park?”
    “No!” His crying escalated.
    Nell walked casually over, with the special authoritative expression that meant she knew something they didn’t.
    “He left it in that house,” she said, “in the way upstairs.”
    “Did you know he left it there?” Mike asked, trying to control the annoyance in his voice.
    “I saw him put it down but I didn’t think he’d leave it there.” Nell planted her hands on her