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raised his head and smacked it on the underside of the tabletop. Mitch winced, and then turned his attention to the butler. "Harold, how long have you worked here?"
    Harold straightened. "Twenty-eight years. If you need anything else, ring." He nodded toward the small brass bell on the table, but his tone implied that Mitch could ring until the millennium and still not get service.
    When Harold was gone, Mitch picked up a sandwich and said to Mae, "He came when you did?"
    "Yes. Uncle Gio sent him. Now, about the diary..."
    Mitch listened to Mae with one ear as he bit into the sandwich. It was full of slabs of roast beef, tomato and cheese, and he felt even more kindly toward June than he had before. She was pretty, she was warm, and she could make sandwiches. Men had gotten married for less. Not him, of course, but some men. He chewed and swallowed, then broke into Mae's explanation of how Armand had written daily in his diaries to ask her, "Why did Uncle Gio send Harold?"
    "He didn't trust Uncle Armand." Mae peeled the bread off the top of a sandwich and picked up a piece of cheese. "Can we talk about the diary?"
    "Look, Mabel. You can argue with me and waste time, or you can answer my questions. Why didn't Gio trust Armand?"
    Mae put down her cheese, exasperated. "This is ridiculous. Uncle Gio did not kill Uncle Armand." "I didn't say he did. Why didn't he trust Armand?" Mae glared at him. "All right. Fine. This is just a guess, but I don't think Uncle Gio thought that Uncle Armand wanted me because he wanted a child of his own." "Why?"
    "Because he was never much interested in me once I got here. " Mae calmed down. "I think one reason he fought for me was because he liked taking me away from Uncle Claud and Uncle Gio." "And what else?" Mae shrugged. "Nothing else." "There's got to be something else. You said one reason. That implies another reason."
    "Well. I have a theory, but..." Mae picked up a slice of roast beef and began to nibble on it. "I read the diary from 1967 last night. That's the year I came. I was trying to figure out how I felt about him." She frowned at Mitch. "He wasn't an easy man to like, but I did live with him for twenty-eight years at his request. But he never liked me much." She looked more puzzled than hurt. "So I read the diary to see if my suspicions were right. And I think they were. I think it was because if I left, June would have left him."
    "That would upset me," Mitch said, thinking of the food. "Why didn't he just offer her more money?"
    "It wasn't the money. She was unhappy. Her son, Ronnie, had just died, and she was going to leave, and then Uncle Armand brought me home, and I think she knew I'd never get any love if she left, so she stayed." Mae picked up another slice of roast beef. "So he got to beat Uncle Claud and Uncle Gio and keep June. Putting up with me must have seemed minor in comparison."
    Mitch scowled at her. Armand Lewis must have been a world-class jerk. Just looking at Mae, Mitch could tell she'd been a great kid, and now twenty-eight years later, all she could say was, "He didn't like me much." Hell of a way to treat a kid. He felt himself growing angry, and put a lid on it. She was a grownup now and obviously capable of looking after herself, and he had a strict rule about getting emotionally involved with his clients. Of course, with his other clients, that hadn't been a problem. His other clients hadn't been Mae Belle Sullivan.
    Mitch jerked his mind away from the thought. "That doesn't explain why Harold came to stay."
    Mae peeled another layer off her sandwich. "Uncle Gio sent Harold because he knew Uncle Armand didn't like kids. And Uncle Gio loves kids. He was worried about me. He still worries about me. So he sent Harold."
    Good for Gio, Mitch thought and then stopped himself. He did not approve of Gio Donatello. Period. Back to Harold. "And Armand let Harold stay?"
    Mae nodded. "I think he liked having him here for free, since Gio was paying at first. And then