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signs of what she had been through. Her eyes were clear, not bloodshot, and the flesh across her cheekbones was taut and held no trace of puffiness.
    She began to feel better. There would be no one who would see her today who would not find it difficult to believe that Danielle was really her daughter.
    The sound of water running into the tub began in the bathroom next door. Quickly she finished her coffee and, leaving the cup on the dresser, went into the bathroom.
    The colored maid looked up from the large sunken marble tub. “Good mornin’, Miss Hayden.”
    Nora smiled. “Good morning, Violet.” “Y’all rest well, Miss Hayden?”
    “I don’t remember a thing after Dr. Bonner gave me the sedative.”
    “I didn’ sleep too good myself. Them policemen kep’ me up half the night with their questions.” Nora looked at her curiously. “What did you tell them?”
    “What could I tell them?” Violet answered, getting to her feet. “The same whut I seen when I came into the studio.” She reached for a bottle of bath salts on the shelf over the tub and began to sprinkle the scent into the water. “When I come into the room there you was on the flo’, bendin’ over Mr. Riccio. An’ Miss Dani, she was huddlin’ against the wall.”
    “I don’t want to talk about it!” Nora said coldly.
    “Yes’m. Neither does I. I don’ ever want to think about it no more.” She capped the bottle and placed it back on the shelf. The fragrant musky odor of the perfume began to rise with the steam from the tub. “Be a few minutes befo’ the tub is full. Would yuh like me to give you a rub? It’ll relax you.”
    Nora nodded silently and removed her nightgown over her head. Violet moved quickly, taking the gown and folding it neatly across a chair as Nora stretched out on the narrow massage table.
    She rested her chin on her crossed arms. It was so good to stretch. Really stretch out until you felt every muscle in your body pulling. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes.
    After her bath she pressed down the button on the interphone. “Charles?” “Yes, mum.”
    “Would you please get the car from the garage? And would you mind driving for me today? I don’t feel quite up to it.”
    “Of course, mum.”
    She released the button and got to her feet. She studied herself in the long mirror before she left the room. Harris Gordon knew what he was doing. The right impression was so important in situations like this.
    The black suit she was wearing was perfect. It made her look slim and young. And the simple cloth coat she carried over her arm added the final touch, what her friends in the advertising business would call the sincere look. She looked young, attractive and dependable. Picking up her gloves and bag, she left the room.
    Her thin spike heels echoed hollowly on the circular steps on the marble staircase as she came down into the entrance hall. She glanced out one of the windows framing the door.
    Charles had not yet brought the car.
    Following an instinct she did not quite understand, she turned down the narrow corridor that led to the studio. She stopped in surprise at the door. A young policeman was seated in front of it.
    He got to his feet, touching his cap awkwardly. “Good morning, ma’am.” “Good morning. I’m Miss Hayden.”
    “I know, ma’am. I was here last night.”
    She raised an eyebrow in affected surprise. “All night?” she asked. “Without any rest?” “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Have you had breakfast? You must be hungry.”
    “I’m okay, ma’am.” The policeman flushed in embarrassment. “They were nice enough to bring me some coffee.”
    “May I go in?”
    He stood there awkwardly, watching her. He didn’t answer.
    “It’s perfectly all right, I assure you,” she said in that suddenly mistress-to-servant voice she summoned up whenever she became annoyed. “After all, it is my studio.”
    “I know, ma’am. But the sergeant said he didn’t want anything disturbed.” “I