• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 1397 0

lover of jewelry, but as she stared down into the cases that contained Mrs. Houghton’s extensive collection, she was overcome with emotion. A sentiment, perhaps, about the connective thread of tradition and how one woman’s life might lead into another’s. It was why mothers passed things on to their daughters, she supposed. There was a transfer of power in the transference of possessions. But mostly, Annalisa decided, it was about belonging, and about things being in their rightful place. Mrs. Houghton’s jewelry belonged where it always had been, in the penthouse apartment in One Fifth. Bidding fiercely at the auction, she was able to buy twelve pieces. When she brought the jewelry home and placed it in the large velvet jewelry box on her bureau, she experienced an odd sensation, as if the apartment were nearly complete.

Now, on the evening of the King David gala, Annalisa Rice planned to wear Mrs. Houghton’s jewels for the first time. Leaning in to the mirror in the vast marble bathroom, she clipped on a pair of diamond and pearl earrings and stood back to study the effect. The large pearls were a natural yellow, which complemented her auburn hair and gray eyes. This reminded her once again of Billy and how pleased he would have been with the apartment and with her. Adjusting the earrings, she was startled by Paul’s voice.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

She looked up and found him standing in the doorway, staring at her. “Nothing,” she replied quickly, then added, “What are you doing home? I thought you were going to meet me at the gala.”

“I changed my mind,” he said. “It’s our big night. I thought we should go together.”

“How nice.”

“You don’t sound happy.”

“I am, Paul. I was just thinking about Billy Litchfield. That’s all.”

“Again?” Paul said.

“Yes, again,” she repeated. “He was my friend. I’ll probably always think about him.”

“Why?” Paul said. “He’s dead.”

“Yes, he is,” she replied sarcastically, walking past him into the master bedroom. “But if Sandy hadn’t been caught, he would still be alive.” She opened her closet. “Shouldn’t you start getting ready?”

“What did Billy have to do with it?” Paul said. He took off his shoes and began removing his tie. “I want you to stop thinking about Billy Litchfield.”

“Are you the thought police now, too?”

“It’s time to move on,” Paul said, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Billy sold Sandy the cross,” Annalisa said. “Sandy must have told you.”

Paul shrugged. “He didn’t. But in every business maneuver, there’s usually a random element that you don’t foresee. I suppose Billy Litchfield was that element.”

“What are you talking about now, Paul?” Annalisa said, coming out of the closet with a pair of strappy gold high-heeled shoes. “What business maneuver?” She opened the jewelry box and took out a platinum-and-diamond art deco bracelet that had also belonged to Mrs. Houghton.

“Sandy Brewer,” Paul said. “If I hadn’t taken him out, you wouldn’t be standing here putting on Louise Houghton’s jewelry.”

Annalisa froze. “What do you mean?” she said, fumbling with the bracelet.

“Come on,” Paul said. “You knew Sandy was probably going to fire me. Over that glitch. On the China deal. How was I supposed to know Billy Litchfield was involved with Sandy and the cross? But if you trace it back to the source, it’s really Sam Gooch’s fault. If Sam hadn’t cut the wires, I wouldn’t have had to do what I did.”

“What did you do, Paul?” Annalisa asked softly.

“Sent that e-mail to the Times about the cross,” Paul said, stretching his neck as he placed his bow tie around his collar. “Kids’ stuff,” he said, jerking the ends of the tie. “A simple game of dominoes. Knock one down and they all fall over.”

“I thought Craig Akio sent the e-mail,” Annalisa said, being careful to keep her tone even.

“Also kids’ stuff,” Paul said. “A fake e-mail account—anyone can do it.” He slipped on his tuxedo jacket. “That was a stroke of brilliance—and luck. Best way to get rid of two people at once. Get them to take each other out.”

“Goodness, Paul,” Annalisa said, her voice trembling slightly. “Is no