Between him and Nick and Madeline, they managed to keep the conversation pleasant, directed away from those subjects most likely to cause contention. So the topics of shifty-eyed foreigners, slick talkers, and morally bankrupt scoundrels being strictly off-limits, they were left to discuss the weather and Aunt Ruth’s difficult and dangerous first-class passage across the Atlantic via luxury liner. Drew found himself only occasionally wondering about who had murdered Quinton Montford, and each time he banished those thoughts, they became less and less insistent. After all, he wasn’t the police. After three days, Aunt Ruth still managed to be only a little more than civil to Drew, but civility was an improvement nonetheless. Still, it was a bit wearing to feel like an intruder in one’s own home, and Drew decided an afternoon of golf would be a welcome change. Nick and Bunny hadn’t arrived at the club by the time he got there. Roger’s car was parked outside, but Drew hadn’t yet seen the man himself.
