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By Root 2860 0

some bright bulbs in the detecting world had recently been floating the idea that people undergo physical changes when they lie. Some of the possible symptoms, these types said, were a quickening of the pulse rate and respiration, increased perspiration and muscle tension, and a few other, less obvious alterations. Now, there was no actual medical or what Lucius called “clinical” support for any of this; but all the same, Marcus had, as I’d noticed, kept one finger on the señora’s wrist while they were discussing the mysterious woman on the train. At the same time, he’d kept a steady eye on his watch. They’d been talking about some very upsetting subjects, but there’d been no change in Señora Linares’s pulse rate at any time, not even when she looked at the photograph of her daughter. Like so many of the Isaacsons’ techniques and conclusions, that one wouldn’t have meant anything in a court of law, but it gave them further reason to buy what she was saying.

All this was enough to quiet Mr. Moore’s doubts about the señora—but the more important issue continued to be whether or not Dr. Kreizler would be willing to get involved in the case. I took a lot more grilling on this score, along with Cyrus, after he got back from the Astoria, and I’ll confess that the both of us grew a little defensive after a while. Whatever our own fascination with the case, our first loyalty was to the Doctor, and the Linares business was quickly growing into something much deeper and more challenging than a night’s diversion. Neither Cyrus nor I was sure that the Doctor was in any shape to go getting involved with a venture what was so demanding. It was true, as Mr. Moore pointed out, that given the court order, our friend and employer would have some time on his hands; but it was also true that the man was in sore need of rest and healing. Miss Howard respectfully observed that the Doctor always seemed to find the most peace and solace in some kind of work; but Cyrus answered that he was at a lower point than any of us had ever witnessed before and that sooner or later every person has to stop and take a breather. There was just no way to call it in advance, and by meal’s end we’d come back to the same conclusion I’d voiced to the others as we’d left Number 808: the Doctor’s reaction to the idea was going to be determined by how hard he took his departure from the Institute. Cyrus and I promised that one or the other of us would phone Mr. Moore at the Times as soon as the Doctor was back home. Then we all went our respective ways, each bearing the queer feeling that the actions we took in the next day or two could have ripples what would reach far beyond the confines of Manhattan, an island that suddenly seemed, somehow, smaller.

I managed to squeeze in a few hours’ sleep when we got home, though it wasn’t of a quality what could really be called restful. I was up at eight sharp—realizing, as I launched out of bed, that it was the first official day of summer—and found that the last of the rain clouds had disappeared and a fresh breeze was blowing in from the northwest. I got into some clothes and managed to comb my long hair into something that resembled order, then headed down to the Doctor’s narrow little carriage house next door to give Frederick, our always reliable black gelding, a few oats and a morning brushdown in preparation for his day’s labors. Heading back into the house, I concluded from the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen that our latest housekeeper, Mrs. Leshko—a woman who couldn’t boil water quietly—had arrived. I contented myself with a quick cup of her bitter coffee, then got onto the calash and under way.

I took my usual route—Second Avenue downtown to Forsyth Street, then left onto East Broadway—but I didn’t push Frederick, knowing he’d worked hard the night before. It was a route that took me past many of the dance halls, dives, gambling hells, and saloons of the Lower East Side, the sight of which only made it harder to understand how in the world things had so fallen out as to make this trip necessary in the