He put his shoulder between me and the door and reached behind himself for the knob.

“Thursday,” he said.

“We’ll go over all of it Thursday.”

The door closed against the frame.

Behind it, Gemma said, “The neighbor’s the one who’d tell her.” Then Helen’s name, twice, and Douglas saying something back that I could not make out.

I stood in the hall with my hand still up.

The hinges were brass, three of them, painted over until the screw slots had closed.

The knock came flat-handed on the frame, three raps, and Beverly had the door open before I answered.