"It was immediately after my mother's funeral," I said. "Only a few days had passed; at most, a week." We were in the arcades beneath the Hawthorne House alone, so that no one could hear us. Less than a month had passed since I first set foot in that luxurious mansion in Texas, and a week since we had solved the mystery that had led me there. If, of course, it could be assumed that we had really solved that particular mystery. "My mother and I often went for walks in the park." I closed my eyes to focus on the events, not on the intensity with which Jameson was listening to every word I said. "She called it the 'Aimless Walk Game'." I tried to hold on to that memory as I let my eyelids open. "A few days after her funeral, I went to the park for the first time without her. When I reached the pond, I saw a crowd had gathered. On the path lay a man with his eyes closed, covered with some tattered blankets." "A homeless man." Jameson had already heard all this, yet his gaze never left me.
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