our drinks and left us alone, and I brought Carolyn up to date.
“That’s just so strange about Ilona,” she said. “The last you saw of her…”
“She was sleeping like a lamb.”
“And you never spoke to her afterward? No, you called and there was nobody home. And then you went there, and there was really nobody home. It’s hard to believe she moved out, Bern. Are you sure she wasn’t downstairs doing her laundry?”
“She took everything, Carolyn.”
“Well, maybe everything was dirty. You know how a person’ll put off doing the laundry, and the first thing you know there’s nothing to wear, so you do it all at once.”
“And she took the dry cleaning the same day,” I said. “And all her shoes to the shoemaker.”
“I guess it’s pretty farfetched, huh?”
“And her books to be rebound, and her pictures to be framed, and—”
“I get the point, Bern. It was a dumb idea.”
“All she left,” I said, “is a little Scotch tape residue on the wall, where the map was hanging. And her fingerprints, maybe, but for all I know she wiped the place down before she took off.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know. I’ll ask you one. Why would she disappear like that?”
“I don’t know, Bern. Was it something you said?”
“Very funny.”
“You know what I mean. What was she like afterward?”
“Sad. But she said lovemaking always makes her sad.”
“Right away? I don’t get sad until the next morning, when I wake up and find out who I went home with.” She shuddered at a memory and chased it with a sip of Scotch. “If it always makes her sad,” she said, “maybe that explains why it took her two weeks to get around to it. But I still don’t get the disappearing act.”
“Neither do I.”
“Do you think she could have been abducted?”
“I thought of that. But if you were going to kidnap her, why pack up all her things?”
“That way she disappears without a trace.”
“What do you mean?”
“When’s the last day of the month, Tuesday? Wednesday whoever took her calls her landlord and tells him he can rent the place, because she’s not coming back. So he looks and everything’s gone but the furniture, and you said you thought that came with the place?”
“It didn’t look like anything she would have picked out for herself.”
“So she’s gone, bag and baggage, and he gets a new tenant in there and that’s it. Gone without a trace.”
“Why not just leave her stuff? Then no one would even know she was missing. I wouldn’t even have a clue she’d moved out if there’d been clothes in the closet and all the other stuff where it had been last night.”
“So that means she must have left voluntarily.”
“I would think so,” I said. “And she packed everything because she wanted to keep it. Maybe she was behind in her rent or skipping out on a lease, maybe that’s why she left so abruptly, but there has to be more to it than that. Why didn’t she call me? Even if she wasn’t going to meet me at the movies, why stand me up? Why not spend a quarter and clue me in?”
“Maybe she didn’t know how to break it to you.”
“Break what to me?”
“If she’d broken it,” she said, “then we’d know. Bern, she must have done her own packing. Anybody else would have packed up the sheets and blankets along with everything else.”
“Whereas she’d leave them behind because she regarded them as contaminated?”
“She would know if they came with the apartment, and sometimes they do in furnished rooms or sublets. What about the kitchen stuff?”
“There was a two-burner hot plate and tabletop refrigerator. I didn’t notice any pots or pans.”
“She probably ate out all the time.”
“As far as I know, all she ever ate was popcorn. And half of an eclair.” I shrugged. “I didn’t check to see if there was anything in the fridge. Maybe I should have. I had a slice of pizza for lunch and popcorn for dinner.”
“That’s terrible, Bern.”
“Well, I had a real breakfast,” I said. “At least I think I did. It’s hard to remember.”
“We should get you something to eat.”
“We should get me something to drink,” I said, and carried our glasses back to the bar.
A little later she said, “Bernie, I keep thinking that I ought to tell you to go easy on the booze. And then another voice tells me to let you drink all you want.”
“That second voice,” I said, “is the voice of truth and