The two men exchanged a look. “Let me explain,” Steve said. He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “A short time ago, a woman showed up here, claiming to be Julia Stanford.”
“But that’s impossible!” Julia said. “I’m…”
Steve held up a hand. “I know. The family hired a private detective to make sure she was authentic.”
“And they found out that she wasn’t.”
“No. They found out that she was.”
Julia looked at him, bewildered. “What?”
“This detective said he found fingerprints that the woman had taken when she got a driver’s license in San Francisco when she was seventeen and they matched the prints of the woman calling herself Julia Stanford.”
Julia was more puzzled than ever. “But I…I’ve never been in California.”
Fitzgerald said, “Julia, there may be an elaborate conspiracy going on to get part of the Stanford estate. I’m afraid you’re caught in the middle of it.”
“I can’t believe it!”
“Whoever is behind this can’t afford to have two Julia Stanfords around.”
Steve added, “The only way the plan can work successfully is to get you out of the way.”
“When you say ‘out of the way…’” She stopped, remembering something. “Oh, no!”
“What is it?” Fitzgerald asked.
“Two nights ago I talked to my roommate, and she was hysterical. She said a man came to our apartment with a knife and tried to attack her. He thought she was me!” It was difficult for Julia to find her voice. “Who…who’s doing this?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say it’s probably a member of the family,” Steve told her.
“But…why?”
“There’s a large fortune at stake, and the will is going to be probated in a few days.”
“What does that have to do with me? My father never even acknowledged me. He wouldn’t have left me anything.”
Fitzgerald said, “As a matter of fact, if we can prove your identity, your share of the overall estate is more than a billion dollars.”
She sat there, numb. When she found her voice, she said, “A billion dollars?”
“That’s right. But someone else is after that money. That’s why you’re in danger.”
“I see.” She stood there looking at them, feeling a rising panic. “What am I going to do?”
“I’ll tell you what you’re not going to do,” Steve told her. “You’re not going back to a hotel. I want you to stay out of sight until we find out what’s going on.”
“I could go back to Kansas until…”
Fitzgerald said, “I think it would be better if you stayed here, Julia. We’ll find a place to hide you.”
“She could stay at my house,” Steve suggested. “No one will think of looking for her there.”
The two men turned to Julia.
She hesitated. “Well…yes. That will be fine.”
“Good.”
Julia said slowly, “None of this would be happening if my father hadn’t fallen off his yacht.”
“Oh, I don’t think he fell,” Steve told her. “I think he was pushed.”
They took the service elevator to the office building garage and got into Steve’s car.
“I don’t want anyone to see you,” Steve said. “We have to keep you out of sight for the next few days.”
They started driving down State Street.
“How about some lunch?”
Julia looked over at him and smiled. “You always seem to be feeding me.”
“I know a restaurant that’s off the beaten path. It’s in an old house on Gloucester Street. I don’t think anyone will see us there.”
L’Espalier was an elegant nineteenth-century town house with one of the finest views in Boston. As Steve and Julia walked in, they were greeted by the captain.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “Will you come this way, please? I have a nice table for you by the window.”
“If you don’t mind,” Steve said, “we’d prefer something against the wall.”
The captain blinked. “Against the wall?”
“Yes. We like privacy.”
“Of course.” He led them to a table in a corner. “I’ll send your waiter right over.” He was staring at Julia, and his face suddenly lit up. “Ah! Miss Stanford. It’s a pleasure to have you here. I saw your picture in the newspaper.”
Julia looked at Steve, not knowing what to say.