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shrugged and shook my head slightly to indicate that I hadn’t told the police officers anything—yet.
    When he hesitated in answering, Jesse’s partner held up the documents we’d found littering the floor. “We take it these aren’t yours, are they, Mr. Gale?”
    “What the blazes are those?” Standing several feet away, Uncle Cornelius craned his neck to see. “Is that my seal at the top of the page? Those should be locked up in my safe, damn it!”
    Brady’s face turned ruddy. “I’ve never seen them before.”
    My pulse lurched at the bald-faced lie.
    “What the hell were you doing in my bedroom, Brady? How’d you get those documents?”
    I flinched at Uncle Cornelius’s booming voice; everyone flinched, actually.
    “We’ll ask the questions.” The second officer was a humorless bully of a man named Anthony Dobbs who’d once given Brady a black eye. He angled a warning look at Uncle Cornelius, who simply glared back, thoroughly unintimidated.
    Uncle Cornelius murmured some words to his younger brother, William, who left the room, I assumed, to answer any questions that might arise downstairs and keep the guests calm. My uncle settled into a wing chair by the fireplace and pinned a stern gaze on Brady. Neily moved to lean in the balcony doorway, his shoulder even with a dent in the door frame that momentarily captured my attention. The house was brand new and perfect in every way. . . .
    Jesse, meanwhile, walked unhurriedly to the dressing table, dragged the cane bottomed armchair across the rug, and set it in front of Brady’s. He sat with the same leisurely manner, taking a moment to unbutton his coat and settle comfortably before leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Brady, were you stealing those documents from Mr. Vanderbilt’s safe?”
    “No!” Staring down at his feet, Brady shrugged. “That is, I did, but that was the day before yesterday, Jesse. I had a change of heart about using them. I was about to replace them in the safe when—”
    “When Alvin Goddard caught you!” With a sneer, Officer Dobbs made a notation in a notepad he’d produced from an inner pocket of his tweed coat.
    Uncle Cornelius jumped to his feet and seemed about to storm across the room. Neily stepped into his path. “I’ll explain in due course, Father, but let the officers finish their questioning.”
    Uncle Cornelius fumed, but retreated to his wing chair.
    Jesse continued with the interrogation. “Did Alvin Goddard confront you?”
    “No, I never saw him. I was moving toward the safe, and then . . .” His eyes closing, Brady shook his head. “Then I woke up . . . and Neily and Em were leaning over me.”
    “That’s all you remember?”
    “That’s what happened.”
    “And you never saw anyone else in this room?”
    “Think, Brady,” I piped up from across the broad mahogany bedstead. “Did you hear anything at all?”
    “I . . .” Brady pressed the heels of his hands to his temples. “Wait!” His hands fell away. “I did hear something. I remember now. I was making for the safe when I heard a creaking behind me, like a light footstep. I started to turn . . . and then my head felt like it was going to explode.”
    “He’s lying.” Officer Dobbs scowled as he scribbled in his notepad.
    Jesse ignored the comment. “You’re saying someone attacked you, Brady?”
    “I think so, yes.”
    Dobbs let out a huff. Jesse, however, leaned closer to Brady, reached out, and ran his fingers over the back of Brady’s head. He winced at the same time Brady did. “Size of a walnut,” Jesse murmured. “Hurt?”
    “Hell yes.” Brady lifted his own hand to his head as Jesse pulled away.
    “Can you remember anything else that might help identify your attacker?”
    Brady hesitated, then shook his head. “Damn, but I wish I could.”
    With both hands I clutched the bed’s curving footboard. “But obviously there was someone else in this room. A third person who knocked Brady out.”
    “Why