“And you want to go to the police?”
“Yes. It was what I should have done in the first place. I…I don’t care what they do to me anymore.”
Steve said thoughtfully, “Since you’re giving yourself up voluntarily and it was an accident, I think the court will be lenient.”
She was trying to control herself. “I just want it over with.”
“What about your husband?”
She looked up. “What about him?”
“Blackmail is against the law. You have the number of the account in Switzerland where you sent the money he stole from you. All you have to do is press charges and—”
“No!” Her tone was fierce. “I don’t want anything more to do with him. Let him go on with his life. I want to get on with mine.”
Steve nodded. “Whatever you say. I’m going to take you down to police headquarters. You may have to spend the night in jail, but I’ll have you bailed out very quickly.”
Kendall smiled wanly. “Now I can do something I’ve never done before.”
“What’s that?”
“Design a dress in stripes.”
That evening, when he got home, Steve told Julia what had happened.
Julia was horrified. “Her own husband was blackmailing her? That’s terrible.” She studied him for a long moment. “I think it’s wonderful that you spend your life helping people in trouble.”
Steve looked at her and thought, I’m the one in trouble.
Steve Sloane was awakened by the aroma of fresh coffee and the smell of cooking bacon. He sat up in bed, startled. Had the housekeeper come in today? He had told her not to. Steve put on his robe and slippers, and hurried down to the kitchen.
Julia was in there, preparing breakfast. She looked up as Steve entered.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully. “How do you like your eggs?”
“Uh…scrambled.”
“Right. Scrambled eggs and bacon are my specialty. As a matter of fact, my one specialty. I told you, I’m a terrible cook.”
Steve smiled. “You don’t have to cook. If you wanted to, you could hire a few hundred chefs.”
“Am I really going to get that much money, Steve?”
“That’s right. Your share of the estate will be over a billion dollars.”
She found it difficult to swallow. “A billion…? I don’t believe it!”
“It’s true.”
“There’s not that much money in the world, Steve.”
“Well, your father had most of what there was.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Then may I say something?”
“Of course.”
“The eggs are burning.”
“Oh! Sorry.” She quickly took them off the stove. “I’ll make another batch.”
“Don’t bother. The burned bacon will be enough.”
She laughed. “I’m sorry.”
Steve walked over to the cabinet and took out a box of cereal. “How about a nice cold breakfast?”
“Perfect,” Julia said.
He poured some cereal into a bowl for each of them, took the milk out of the refrigerator, and they sat down at the kitchen table.
“Don’t you have someone to cook for you?” Julia asked.
“You mean, am I involved with anyone?”
She blushed. “Something like that.”
“No. I was in a relationship for two years, but it didn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What about you?” Steve asked.
She thought of Henry Wesson. “I don’t think so.”
He looked at her, curious. “You aren’t sure?”
“It’s difficult to explain. One of us wants to get married,” she said tactfully, “and one of us doesn’t.”
“I see. When this is over, will you be going back to Kansas?”
“I honestly don’t know. It seems so strange, being here. My mother talked to me so often about Boston. She was born here, and loved it. In a way, it’s like coming home. I wish I could have known my father.”
No, you don’t, Steve thought.
“Did you know him?”
“No. He dealt only with Simon Fitzgerald.”
They sat there talking for more than an hour, and there was an easy camaraderie between them. Steve filled Julia in on what had happened earlier—the arrival of the stranger who called herself Julia Stanford, the empty grave, and Dmitri Kaminsky’s disappearance.
“That’s incredible!” Julia said. “Who could be behind this?”
“I don’t know, but I’m trying to find out,” Steve assured her. “In the meantime, you’ll be safe here. Very safe.”