I came in through the loading dock on Hawthorn at four forty on Saturday afternoon.

There was no wig.

I want to say that plainly, because the version of this that people find exciting has a costume in it, and what actually happened was that I put my hair up under a black cap, put on black trousers and a black apron and a white shirt out of Evelyn’s staff closet, and did not put on any makeup, which for me is a more effective disguise than anything else I own.

I looked like a forty-year-old woman working in a kitchen.