Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 105, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 640 & 641, March 1995

“That suit” had been another indication that Sylvia’s life did not incorporate the ideal that had been put before her at the M&M’s college. Faustino had brought a palimony suit against her, seeking a settlement for the nearly two years they had lived together.

“It may have stretched over two years,” Raoul said, in a Pickwickian defense of Sylvia’s honor, “but it was just a weekend now and then. I don’t think he ever moved in.”

Such allegations against an honored alumna were bad; also bad was Faustino’s inclusion of Jimmy Horan in his suit, as the one who had alienated Sylvia’s affections. Joyce had been able to provide them with a circumstanced portrait of Horan.

Jimmy Horan was the son of a member of the Irish mafia in Hollywood and had been brought up to consider Cagney and Tracy and O’Brien as uncles. His father, too, had been married to but one woman with whom he had had five children. Any general statement about the laxness of morals among film actors was sure to be met with the counterexample of Jimmy Horan, Sr. For nearly twenty years, at Easter, he and his family had appeared in a television special, a show that Emtee Dempsey had called, the one time she watched it, “the apotheosis of wholesomeness.” For Faustino to suggest that Jimmy Horan was involved in some illicit way with Sylvia Corrigan was a little like maligning the family and spitting on the flag.

“Of course it backfired on Faustino,” Raoul St.-Loup said. “I knew it would hurt him. That’s why I didn’t warn him.”

“Is Faustino a client of yours?” Emtee Dempsey asked.

“Not anymore.”

Despite these preliminaries, the evening with Raoul St.-Loup proved more than informative. Joyce’s roast beef with artichoke and the Italian wine, a Barolla, the gift of their lawyer, Mr. Rush, had much to do with this.

Early the next morning Katherine sent the summary she had made of the conversation to Walton Street by special messenger. Emtee Dempsey read it aloud.

1. Faustino was wrong to accuse Jimmy Horan of alienating Sylvia’s affections, but there was another man in the picture, one whose identity was unknown even to Raoul St.-Loup himself. (“Think of me as a confessor,” he quoted himself as saying to his clients. “Tell me all your sins. It doesn’t matter, with me you can do no wrong. But I must know everything so that nothing can hurt you.” A dubious theology, whatever could be said of it as public relations.) Sylvia had broken this commandment — as well as ignoring the danger to a Libra in Chicago in this precise October — and look what had happened. In short, there was a new man in Sylvia’s life.

2. The company with which Sylvia had played Antigone was still in town. Her agreement had been to star on two occasions, at the Blackstone, after which she would be replaced by another actress and the play would go on, doubtless to considerably diminished audiences. In the event, Sylvia had given but one performance and the replacement actress had gone on when Sylvia failed to appear at the theater. Faustino failed to appear at the theater. Faustino was also a member of the company, playing Creon.

3. Yet another of her one-time lovers was currently in Chicago. Brian Casey, the singer, was fulfilling a week’s engagement in a Loop bistro.

4. Raoul St.-Loup had also been in Chicago at the time, here to see Sylvia’s second and last performance as Antigone, but also out of concern for her because of her astrological sign.