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predicament. She couldn’t turn to her family or the baby’s father, or even his family.”
    “Well, we need to find out who she is,” Caron said coldly.
    “And how should we go about doing that?”
    Inez took a breath. “There has to be a birth certificate or something like that. The hospital has records. They put footprints on the birth certificates.”
    I nodded. “Indeed they do. Should we don ski masks and sneak into the hospital to riffle through the files?”
    “We can make a print of Skyler’s foot for comparison,” Inez began enthusiastically, then paused to consider her plan. “We’ll have to use bobby pins to pick the locks of the file cabinets.”
    “And we’ll need stun guns for the guards,” said Caron. “Maybe a helicopter to drop us on the roof of the hospital. And, if the employees are aliens from a distant galaxy, we’ll have to disrupt their communication with the mother ship and locate their lasers before they can liquidate us. Quick, Inez, call Spielberg and tell him to bring a camera crew.”
    She folded her arms. “It was just a suggestion.”
    “Let’s wait and see what happens tomorrow,” I said. “Skyler will sleep in my bedroom tonight. He can hang out at the bookstore until his mother returns. The problem will be resolved.”
    “Yeah, right,” Caron said in an exceedingly sour tone. “Why should we be worried about little Moses? We need to review binomials and all that crap.”
    I shooed them down the hall to Caron’s room, then sat back and tried to remember if the other two witnesses during the birth had said anything that might lead to the mother’s identity. I knew one of their names, and would recognize the second if I happened to see her. If the mother didn’t call or come by in a day or so, I could go by the homeless shelter in case any of the three was there.
    My copy of Dr. Spock’s essential wisdom had long since gone to a garage sale, but I presumed I could recall the basics. Babies of a certain age did little more than sleep, eat, fuss, and periodically require a fresh diaper. I could take him with me to the bookstore, where I had a distressingly ample amount of idle time to look after him. And then his mother would present herself, explain, and carry him away.
    It didn’t seem wise to involve Peter, who might feel that the scrawled note was not adequate to prove I had temporary custody. Cops can be sticklers. I considered calling Luanne, then decided to wait until the following day.
    Moving gingerly, I carried the basket to my bedroom and set it down. I changed into nightclothes, noting the scratches aftd bruises on my shins that had resulted from my less than graceful encounter with the rope ladder. No other physical damage was visible, but I suspected a few muscles might make known their grievances in the morning.
    Skyler was lost in infantile dreams. I left him there and knocked on Caron’s door. The conversation, which had been more centered around names than binomials, broke off as I went into the room.
    “I’d better take the diaper bag,” I said.
    Inez gazed solemnly at me. “To make sure I didn’t overlook a vital clue? I looked very carefully, Ms. Malloy.”
    “To make sure I can warm up a bottle in the middle of the night,” I said, then looked at my daughter, who was cross-legged on the bed and hunched over an open textbook. “I left a six-pack of sodas on die back porch.”
    Caron did not deign to respond. I picked up the denim bag and took it to the living room. The contents were as meager as Inez had reported. The nipple on the plastic bottle looked worn but functional. The nightgown, socks, and diapers were tiny, but so was Skyler. The bag lacked so much as a monogram, which wouldn’t have been much help, anyway.
    I made a cup of tea and took to the sofa to read a dated mystery novel while keeping one ear attuned for a wail from my bedroom. An hour later, just as the lady of the manor had discovered her lordship’s body in the