I stood up and began pacing the floor. Now how in God’s name, I wondered, had Deborah Horowitz managed to get pregnant? Why didn’t she take her pills? What was the matter with her? And-

Wait a minute.

I didn’t know anyone named Deborah Horowitz.

The phone rang. I picked it up, and Mrs. Horowitz’s voice was saying something about our having been disconnected. I broke in to tell her that there was some sort of mistake, that I didn’t even know her daughter.

“You’re Evan Tanner?”

“Yes, but-”

“ West 107th Street? Manhattan?”

“Yes, but-”

“You know her. And you have to help me, I’m a widow, I’m all alone in the world, I have nowhere to turn. You-”

“But-”

“You know her. Maybe you don’t know her by her real name. Young girls, they always get fancy ideas about names. I remember when I was sixteen all of a sudden Miriam was no good, I had to call myself Mimi. Hah!”

“Your daughter-”

“Phaedra, she calls herself now.”

I said slowly, softly, “Phaedra Harrow.”

“See? You know her.”

“Phaedra Harrow.”

“The ideas they get. Both names, from Deborah to Phaedra and from Horowitz to-”

“Mrs. Horowitz,” I said.

“Yes.”

“Mrs. Horowitz, I think you’ve made a mistake.” I took a deep breath. “If Phaedra – if Deborah, that is, if she’s, uh, pregnant, well, I think it’s impossible.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, if that’s the case, I think you’d better start looking for a very bright star in the East. Because-”

“Who said anything about pregnant?”

“You did.”

“In trouble, I said.”

“Oh.” I thought for a moment. “So you did.”

“Her name wasn’t good enough for her, she had to change it. Her country wasn’t good enough for her, she had to go overseas. God knows what she gets mixed up in. I always get letters, and then the letters stop, and then I get this one postcard. Mr. Tanner, I’ll tell you frankly, I’m frightened for her life. Mr. Tanner, let me tell you-”