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Noah and Ray, at least, would have seen Denny and Craig last night or the night before, perfectly alive, completely themselves, annoying, familiar, entertaining all at once. Especially Craig, Alice thought, who managed to elicit from her an exact conjunction of vexation and desire that years of friendship had not gotten her used to. And murdered! Murdered! The shock of it startled her again and again, like random hammering right next to her ear. She placed a pancake on her plate, spread it with hoisin sauce, and spooned on the pork and egg mixture. Ray said, “These oysters are terrific. Craig would have just creamed over them.”
    “He loved that restaurant,” said Noah. A great sigh lifted from the table, and Ray said, “Remember how he wouldn’t even taste Chinese food five years ago because it was all mushed together?”
    “A very weird guy,” said Noah. “I just can’t believe it.”
    Ray dipped his spoon into the bean curd. “I can. You know, I really can. Think about it. Craig Shellady living to a ripe old age? Are you kidding?”
    Alice said, “Weren’t his folks about this age when they died in that car wreck?”
    Ray ignored her. “Denny, yes. Denny with seventeen grandkids in the country somewhere, watching the polls on election days,perfect. Tapping maple trees, building more shelves to store more canned tomatoes, yes, yes.”
    Alice coughed. “His mother was, I think. His father must have been nearly forty. Craig was eleven or twelve, anyway.”
    Rya sat back with a stricken look. “I didn’t know Craig was orphaned. I mean, orphaned!”
    Noah rolled his eyes. “Well, he told you umpteen times that his parents were dead and that he’d lived all those years with the Mineharts!”
    “But I didn’t realize he was orphaned! Like somebody in an asylum!”
    “He never lived in an asylum. He had plenty of aunts and uncles, and the Mineharts, and he was perfectly well taken care of.”
    “Orphaned! Can you imagine what it’s like to be orphaned!” Noah put his arm around her and kissed her on the temple, but with the air of putting his hand over her mouth. “Anyway,” said Ray, his chopsticks poised above his plate, “it’s weird. I always thought he was doomed, but I can’t believe he’s dead.” Noah said, “Has anyone called Denny’s parents?” Everyone looked at Alice, who shrugged. “I hardly know them. I told the police their name and address.” She shivered. The Mineharts were crazy about Craig, and Denny was probably their favorite child. No one was warmer or more reliable than Denny. She said, “Lots of people are going to have to know. That’s the worst part.”
    “No,” said Noah. “Susan’s the worst part. What are you going to do about Susan?”
    Alice had rather shunned the thought of Susan all afternoon. Susan had lived with Denny for years, nearly as long as Alice had known her, and, in Alice’s view, they had the only nearly perfect relationship Alice had ever seen. Alice felt about it as one might feel living next door to a historic monument. She was proud of it, anxious to show it off, knowing it wasn’t hers but as reassured by it as if it were. Susan dazzled with her domestic competence, her way with tax forms and vegetables and hospitality and decor.Because of Susan, people always wanted to hang around that apartment, partake not merely of the comfort she had created, but also of the comfort between her and Denny. Equally comfortable were her departures, her undramatic efforts to go away by herself, that neither she nor Denny made much of. Perhaps Alice had always envied these even more, since partings from Jim Ellis had been fraught with anxiety and had always ended in arguments, at the very least, about why he hadn’t written enough, or why she had written too much. And then, of course, they had ended in parting, possibly their inevitable end, Alice occasionally thought. But Susan and Denny had gone on and on and on, longer than any of their friends,