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here? Isn’t that a little pre-Victorian ?”
    â€œDuring the week, she stays here. As I mentioned before, it takes a lot to care for Persie. Anna has her own apartment elsewhere, and usually she has weekends off. She’s here this weekend to help Persie adjust to your arrival.”
    From behind the door I could hear what must have been Persie having some kind of tantrum that Anna was apparently unable to control. She was screaming “Nevermore!” rather like Poe’s raven. Shrieking it, actually. Over and over. Mum turned to BM, her face white and strained. “Is that my fault because of insisting we wait for the tour? Oh, Brian, I’m so sorry!”
    BM didn’t quite say it was or it wasn’t. “She knows I’m home, and the rule—her rule—is that I go to her immediately and spend some time with her. We’ve upset the rule. I’ll be able to calm her down soon.”
    My eyes flew to BM’s face. He’d just told me, essentially, that Persie is a cat, and he’s let her decide for herself what all the rules are. So she’s a misbehaving cat, a cat that’s been given too free a hand. Suddenly I was more interested in Persie than before. But I must say I didn’t especially want to meet her right then.
    The stairway to the top floor is behind a locked door, which BM unlocked with a key before handing it to me.
    â€œYour room is on the third floor. I don’t want Persie wandering up there, so please keep this door locked. If there’s an emergency, there’s a fire escape at the back of the house.”
    I wondered how Mum would take it that I’d just been told that I must lock a door. Not looking at her, but intending this comment for her, I asked, “Is Persie’s door locked?”
    It was an odd question, but BM didn’t miss a beat. “Never. Just this one. The house cleaners and Anna are the only others who have keys to the third floor.”
    As I took the small silver key, I said, “And you.”
    â€œPardon?”
    â€œYou have your own key as well, yes?”
    â€œOh. Yes, I do. But I don’t recall the last time I used it.”
    â€œWhy does Anna need a key?”
    â€œHer room is up there, directly over Persie’s bedroom. She has her own bathroom, so you won’t cross paths very often. There is a third room, a guest room, and if anyone used it they’d share your hall bathroom. But we don’t have overnight visitors. It upsets Persie. I send anyone who comes from out of town to a hotel, usually the Taj or the Four Seasons.”
    â€œAnd will I get other keys to the house?”
    â€œYes, of course. I’ll give you and your mother keys to the external doors later.”
    â€œI don’t really need you to come up with me. Let Mum have her bath. Maybe I’ll do the same. And you can go be with Persie.” I wasn’t really being kind, here, or considerate. Persie was just a good excuse; I didn’t want him coming up with me.
    Mum gave me a half-smile like she hoped this would help things work out better, and BM stared at me like he was going through a cost-benefit analysis: How much do I lose if I let Simon have his way, and what do I gain if I insist? Finally he said, “Your room is at the top of the stairs in the back, immediately to your left. To the right is Anna’s room. I’ll be with Persie for a while, so you probably won’t be able to reach me. There’s an intercom near the dumbwaiter upstairs, to the left of the door that goes to the roof garden. It connects to the kitchen, so if no one answers it’s because no one is in the kitchen.”
    Without another word, I walked through the door, and as I pulled it shut I heard BM add, “I hope you like your room. I find it delightful.”
    Initially my impression of the top floor was that it’s kind of gloomy. The landing at the top of the stairs faces the back of the house,