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“Absolutely not. Todd wasn’t a flashy kid. He wasn’t into outward appearances and trying to look good. And that’s exactly the kind of guys Layla is into: the jocks, the big, flashy guys who are all about what clothes they wear, and what their hair looks like.”

“And Todd wasn’t like that.”

“No way. He hated that kind of stuff, and so do I.”

“How did you feel about your sister dating your best friend, Scott?” asked Chase.

“I didn’t like it. And I told him.”

“But he wouldn’t listen?”

“It wasn’t like that. He knew that Layla wasn’t the girl for him, only…” He hesitated.

“Only what, Scott?”

“Only Layla can be persistent, and she had developed this obsession with Todd, and wouldn’t let go.”

“She wouldn’t?”

“She’s like that: once she’s got her mind set on something—or someone—she won’t let go. It’s sick.” He seemed to realize what he was saying, because suddenly he sobered and said, “Please don’t take this the wrong way. Layla would never hurt Todd. Never. She really liked him, andhe liked her, just… they weren’t for each other, see?”

“I think I understand,” said Odelia.

“Layla tells us that she and Todd broke up?” said Chase.

Scott nodded.“Yeah, they did.”

“Who broke up with whom?”

“It was a mutual decision.”

“So no hard feelings from either side?”

“No, they were both fine with it.”

“And you? You were probably relieved?”

The kid rolled his eyes.“It wasn’t like that.”

“But you didn’t shed any tears when they announced it was over, right?”

“Not exactly. Look, is this going to take much longer? It’s just that I need to get the house cleaned up before my parents arrive.”

“When are they due back?”

“Soon!”

Chase got up, and so did Odelia.“Then I guess we better leave you to it.”

Chase glanced across the pool, and pointed to the back of the garden.“Who lives over there, do you know?”

“Um, Mr. Durain.”

I noticed how a window of the neighboring house looked out over the Walcott backyard. With any luck, that window was a bedroom window, and Mr. Durain was a light sleeper and a nosy parker and could tell us what happened last night.

Chapter 23

Mr. Lionel Durain proved to be a very nice old man, who was more than willing to assist us in our inquiries. He seemed eager to help us in any way he could.

“I heard all about it,” he said by way of greeting when we turned up on his doorstep unannounced. “Some neighborhood kid that drowned, isn’t that right?”

“How did you hear about it, Mr. Durain?” asked Chase as we stepped into the man’s living room.

He was still dressed in his morning robe, and judging from the way his wavy gray hair was pointing in every direction, he hadn’t yet enjoyed the benefit of a shower or bath.

“Oh, well, this is a close-knit community, detective, in spite of what you might think,” said the man as he offered Odelia and Chase a seat on a creaky old couch. “We still talk to each other here, contrary to some other neighborhoods. It was actually Mrs. Taggart who told me. She runs the neighborhood committee, you see, of which I am a proud member.”

“The neighborhood committee? Is that like a neighborhood watch?” asked Odelia.

“Oh, no, not at all. The purpose of the committee is not to increase safety, or to patrol the neighborhood, but to increase neighborliness—improve the social fabric of our small community, if you will. We organize barbecues in the summer, a neighborhood f?te, a big Christmas do in the winter. Most neighborhoods nowadays are what they call bedroom communities. People come home from work, roll down the shutters, and camp out in front of the television for the rest of the evening. Next day they rise early, leave for work—rinse and repeat. You don’t see them out and about. They might as well be invisible. But not here—oh, no. We make sure that neighbors still know each other by their first name.”

“So did you notice anything unusual last night, Mr. Durain?” asked Chase. He pointed in the direction of the stairs. “We happened to notice how one of your upstairs windows oversees the Walcott backyard.”

“So we were hoping you might have seen what happened,” Odelia supplied.

“Unfortunately, no,” said Mr. Durain. “Thought I did hear some strange noises during the night.”

“What noises?” asked Odelia, perking up after she’d sagged a little when realizing that Chase’s hunch wasn’t going to play out.

“I’m a very light sleeper, you see, and every time the Walcotts go away on holiday, those kids like to organize parties for their friends. I’ve complained about it many times, but nobody seems to care. Let kids be kids, they say. But I have a right to sleep, don’t I?”

“And last night there was such a party?”

“Not last night. The night before last. Last night they had a quiet evening at home for a change. I don’t mind telling you that I was relieved, and decided to take advantage of the opportunity to go to bed early—take an advance on tonight, when I was pretty sure they’d be inviting all of their friends over again. Only I was woken up by someone shouting.”

“Shouting?”