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I said fine. An hour later, we had the room, also full of odds and ends, cleared and even cleaned using the vacuum and a damp rag. There was an electrical outlet and a table, but not much else.

I took out a notebook and wrote, “We can get you a mattress for the floor, if that’s okay?”

He shook his head. From a duffel I hadn’t noticed, he took a hammock and two strong screw-in hooks. With admirable skill and real strength, he twisted the hooks into the sloping rafters of chestnut high above the floor. On these he slung the hammock, which was made of closely netted cord. On this he spread a down comforter with a leaf-green cover. He turned to me and signed “leopards.” When I didn’t get that, he signed “big,” hands together then pulled apart; “cat,” hand pulling at figurative mustache; and “spots,” closed fist held next to face, then pointing with index finger. When I didn’t quite get that, he spelled it out for me, letter by letter.

I explained to him that there were no leopards loose in Seaboard. And that, even if there were, they wouldn’t be able to get into the house at night as all the doors and windows are secured.

He wagged his finger at me and shook his head. The tedium of having to explain the obvious came across in his signing, which had slowed down and become exaggerated. Patiently, he told me that there were leopards everywhere, we just don’t see them. Not only that, but there was virtually no place they couldn’t get into. He told me he remembered how they were even in cities, right in people’s houses.

I nodded as though I understood.

Now all I had to do was explain to Diantha that we had a fellow primate living with us. Despite our tearful departure, our telephonic relations had not gone as well as I had hoped. Long-distance reconciliation between a loving couple lacks the opportunities for those more convincing expressions of body language.

After stalling around, checking e-mails and other stuff, I finally called the cottage. No one answered to my great relief, as the possibility of a cold response made me timid. The relief proved short-lived.

“Norman!” she exclaimed in calling me back. “I was just thinking about you. We miss you. Elsie told me this morning she wants to go home however much she loves the lake. And Decker’s been asking about you.”

“Of course, darling,” I said. “But I’d like to come out there. For a weekend.”

“But that’s three whole days away.”

I hemmed and hawed. I played detective. Casually, as though it had just occurred to me, I said, “I don’t want to bring up a sore subject, but could you tell me exactly what Heinie said when he asked to borrow the revolver?”

Into her silence, I quickly added. “I think it’s important because, as you know, the coins in the collection he gave the museum have turned out to be fakes.”

“Well, let’s see. He did mention that he was using the boat to store some valuable things. I mean as well as sailing into dangerous waters. He said he couldn’t get a license for a gun. But you know that.”

“But he didn’t say what the valuables were?”

“No. Why?”

“I was just thinking. Perhaps that’s where the originals are.”

“What would it prove?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to figure this thing out myself. I’m wondering how it might tie in with a motive.”

When she fell silent again, I went on, “By the way, you saw the news about the apparent suicide of Martin Sterl?”

“I did.”

“Did you recognize his widow at all? Have we seen her anywhere?”

“No. Why do you ask?” Her voice had cooled. She knew me well enough to know I was delaying telling her about something important or unpleasant.

“Because I’ve seen her before and I can’t remember where.”

“You see lots of people, Norman. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of people come into the museum every week.”

A tiny, muffled bell rang in my mind, but then I was distracted as Diantha sighed audibly and said, “Oh, Norman, are we going to be all right?”

“I hope so.”

“We want to come home. We miss you.”

It was my turn to sigh. I said, “I know. But there’s been another development here that you should know about.