9308-3953

“You mean the fathers of the girls,” Trevor said. “Who feel guilt over the fate of their
abandoned daughters.”
Another shrug. “Possibly. As I said, the donations are anonymous.”
“A light skinned woman in a sari was seen at the Weaver House just yesterday,” Trevor
said. “When the officer noticed her, she ran.”
“Ah,” said Miss Hoffman. “That was likely Adelaide. She was an associate of the
Weavers, you see.”
“He said she looked fully British.”
“And perhaps she is. The paperwork on our charges is not always complete, as you
might guess.”
“He only wished to talk to her. Why did she run?”
“She is troubled.”
“Troubled by what?”
“Am I being interviewed, Detective? Is that what you believe your Miss Bainbridge has
bought with her donation? Access to information about my girls?”
That was precisely what Trevor believed Gerry had bought, but it was probably prudent
to avoid saying as much, at least for now. Looking at the woman sitting so placidly in front of him, he
tried another tack.
“But this woman is not a girl at all, is she? My officer estimated her to be close to forty
in age. And yet she remains a charge of yours, here at the school? ”
Miss Hoffman brushed back a strand of her hair. It was graying but still full and lustrous
and tied at an untidy knot in the back of her neck. There is something beautiful about her, Trevor
rather irrelevantly thought. And what strength it would take to toil against these hopeless odds year
after year, with so little friendship from your own kind. So little variation in your days.
“You are not the first to ask of Adelaide,” Miss Hoffman finally said. “A Mr. Seal from
the Viceroy Council was here just yesterday. I gather you sent him to round up all of the Weaver’s
household staff?”
Trevor raised an eyebrow. “She was a member of the household? That is what you
meant by the term ‘associate’? That she worked for them?”
“Not exactly.”
“Miss Hoffman,” Trevor said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “A
sizable bank draft is quite visibly folded and tucked into your pocket. We can argue the moral
subtleties of the situation all day long, but it will save everyone’s time and temper if you simply hand
over what we have bought. And please humor us by starting at the beginning.”
“Very well,” Miss Hoffman said, with no apparent resentment at his directness. We are
playing chess, this woman and I, Trevor thought. And she is rather enjoying it. Perhaps I am as
well. Or at least I would be enjoying it were Emma and Gerry not sitting right here, holding their
breath and waiting for me to make a foolish move.
“You ask for the beginning, but I do not know precisely where the beginning began,”
Miss Hoffman said. “For your officer’s estimate was likely correct. Adelaide came to this school as
a small child more than thirty years ago and has lived with us since. It was obvious at an early point
that she would not be one of the ones who married out or who was likely to find an elevated
employment.”
“You are saying she is mentally impaired?”
“I suspect the trouble lies more in her spirit than in her mind. But she remains, yes,