Eleanor began using a separate page for each incident, with date, time, possible witnesses, and documents attached. She did not write conclusions she could not yet prove. Beside the heat interruption she wrote, "No building-wide outage confirmed. Cause unknown.
Superintendent found supply valve closed twice." That distinction mattered to her. Facts were facts, suspicions were suspicions, and confusing them would only help Richard later.
On Wednesday, the certified letter arrived accusing them of housing an unauthorized occupant. It stated that repeated observations and tenant complaints suggested someone not named in their lease had taken up residence. Eleanor read it while James stood at the sink drying breakfast dishes. She checked the envelope again, unable to imagine what evidence would support the accusation.
"They're talking about your sister visiting," James suggested.
"Estelle was here for two hours," Eleanor said. "We had lunch. We went to the church together."
They made a list of every visitor they could remember: Estelle on October fifth, James's younger brother Marcus on the twelfth, Margaret Reed for Bible study on the eighteenth, Thomas for a short Sunday visit the month before. Eleanor checked her calendar for times and searched her messages for confirmation. Their lease allowed ordinary guests. None had slept in the apartment.
Richard's downtown office occupied part of a glass building overlooking a narrow plaza. Eleanor took the train there because she wanted a face-to-face explanation, and because she still believed some disagreements improved when people were made to see the human consequences of a document. The receptionist asked her to wait. Forty minutes passed while employees carried coffee into Richard's office and laughed at something she could not hear.
When he finally called her inside, he remained seated. His screen showed a photograph of the Riverside property with a developer's rendering superimposed over it. Eleanor noticed the image before he minimized it. Where their windows stood in the real building, the rendering showed a wide terrace above a lobby made of glass.
"Mr. Caldwell, I believe there has been an error," she said, laying the notice on his desk. "No one lives in our apartment except my husband and me."
He scanned the top line and pushed the paper back. "I have reports of unusual activity."
"From whom?"
"Residents."
"Which residents? I'd like to discuss anything that bothered them."
"I'm not releasing private complaints to a tenant."
"Then perhaps you can describe the behavior without identifying anyone."
He leaned back, studying her as though the request itself were an act of defiance. "You ask a lot of questions for someone who was offered a simple, generous solution."
"An accusation of violating a lease requires an answer. That's why I'm asking."
"There are people who would be grateful for the chance to move somewhere better." Richard tapped a pen against the desk. "You might become one of them if you stopped treating every notice like a personal attack."