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for the next six months or so she took complete care of Peter. Then, out of the blue, Stillman fired her. I forget her name—a Miss Barber, I think—but she testified at the trial. It seems that Stillman just came home one day and told her that he was taking charge of Peter’s upbringing. He sent in his resignation to Columbia and told them he was leaving the university to devote himself full-time to his son. Money, of course, was no object, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
    “After that, he more or less dropped out of sight. He stayed on in the same apartment, but he hardly ever went out. No one really knows what happened. I think, probably, that he began to believe in some of the far-fetched religious ideas he had written about. It made him crazy, absolutely insane. There’s no other way to describe it. He locked Peter in a room in the apartment, covered up the windows, and kept him there for nine years. Try to imagine it, Mr. Auster. Nine years. An entire childhood spent in darkness, isolated from the world, with no human contact except an occasional beating. I live with the results of that experiment, and I can tell you the damage was monstrous. What you saw today was Peter at his best. It’s taken thirteen years to get him this far, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone hurt him again.”
    Mrs. Stillman stopped to catch her breath. Quinn sensed that she was on the verge of a scene and that one more word might put her over the edge. He had to speak now, or the conversation would run away from him.
    “How was Peter finally discovered?” he asked.
    Some of the tension went out of the woman. She exhaled audibly and looked Quinn in the eyes.
    “There was a fire,” she said.
    “An accidental fire or one set on purpose?”
    “No one knows.”
    “What do you think?”
    “I think Stillman was in his study. He kept the records of his experiment there, and I think he finally realized that his work had been a failure. I’m not saying that he regretted anything he had done. But even taking it on his own terms, he knew he had failed. I think he reached some point of final disgust with himself that night and decided to burn his papers. But the fire got out of control, and much of the apartment burned. Luckily, Peter’s room was at the other end of a long hall, and the firemen got to him in time.”
    “And then?”
    “It took several months to sort everything out. Stillman’s papers had been destroyed, which meant there was no concrete evidence. On the other hand, there was Peter’s condition, the room he had been locked up in, those horrible boards across the windows, and eventually the police put the case together. Stillman was finally brought to trial.”
    “What happened in court?”
    “Stillman was judged insane and he was sent away.”
    “And Peter?”
    “He also went to a hospital. He stayed there until just two years ago.”
    “Is that where you met him?”
    “Yes. In the hospital.”
    “How?”
    “I was his speech therapist. I worked with Peter every day for five years.”
    “I don’t mean to pry. But how exactly did that lead to marriage?”
    “It’s complicated.”
    “Do you mind telling me about it?”
    “Not really. But I don’t think you’d understand.”
    “There’s only one way to find out.”
    “Well, to put it simply. It was the best way to get Peter out of the hospital and give him a chance to lead a more normal life.”
    “Couldn’t you have been made his legal guardian?”
    “The procedures were very complicated. And besides, Peter was no longer a minor.”
    “Wasn’t that an enormous self-sacrifice on your part?”
    “Not really. I was married once before—disastrously. It’s not something I want for myself anymore. At least with Peter there’s a purpose to my life.”
    “Is it true that Stillman is being released?”
    “Tomorrow. He’ll be arriving at Grand Central in the evening.”
    “And you feel he might come after Peter. Is this just a hunch,