Heads You Win

*   *   *

Evelyn arrived at the Mayflower Hotel just after eleven. Todd immediately rose from his place in the alcove and waved. She walked quickly across to join him. Like the Cheshire Cat, she couldn’t stop grinning.

“From the expression on your face, my darling, I assume you’ve sampled the cream,” said Todd as she sat down opposite him.

“A large dollop,” said Evelyn, handing him a check for five hundred thousand dollars.

“Bravo,” he said after pocketing it. “Any problems?”

“None. You’d set him up perfectly. But we can’t hang about, because if my brother were to find out…”

“I’m booked onto a two forty-five flight out of Logan that lands in Geneva just before seven tomorrow morning. I’ll present the check the moment the bank opens its doors.”

“Just be sure you ask for immediate clearance, and call me the moment the money’s been transferred into my account. Then I’ll fly over and join you in Monte Carlo, and we can celebrate.”

“What are you going to do for the next couple of days while I’m away?”

“Make sure I’m available whenever Alex calls. At least until the check’s cleared.”

Todd leaned over and kissed his wife. “You’re so clever,” he said.

*   *   *

That afternoon, Alex phoned Evelyn, and they chatted for nearly an hour. He had to assure her several times that nothing would stop him joining her in Boston for the weekend.

On Tuesday morning, he caught her just before she left the house to go shopping. She promised to call back, and it was only later that he remembered she didn’t have his number. On Wednesday he rang her first thing in the morning—first thing in the morning for her, at least, because he’d already been to the market and selected the freshest vegetables and the finest cuts of meat before delivering them to Elena’s.

She was full of news. Todd was thinking of investing at least ten million, possibly fifteen, in his company, and would be in touch with him later in the week. Evelyn wondered if he’d like to go sailing on the weekend. “We could visit my uncle Nelson in Chappaquiddick, and enjoy the finest clam chowder on earth.”

“Sounds great. What should I wear?” he asked, not wanting to admit that he’d never been on a yacht.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already been shopping and picked out a couple of outfits for you.”

Later that morning, Alex’s bank manager called to say they’d received a check made payable to cash for five hundred thousand dollars, with a request for immediate transfer. As it was such a large amount, the manager said, he was checking to make sure Alex wanted it cleared.

“Immediately,” said Alex without hesitation.

“It will leave your current account with a balance of seventeen thousand two hundred and sixty-nine dollars,” said the manager.

Which will soon be several million, Alex wanted to tell him, but he satisfied himself with, “Please clear the check immediately.”

*   *   *

Evelyn picked up the phone.

“The money has been transferred and I’ll be taking the next plane down to Nice. When do you think you’ll be able to join me?”

“With a bit of luck I’ll be in Monte Carlo in time for dinner tomorrow evening,” said Evelyn. “But first I have to let my brother know the sad news.”

“One does have to feel a little sorry for Mr. Karpenko,” said Todd.

“But not too sorry. I have a feeling he’ll cope just fine in jail, and then we can forget all about him. By the way, Todd, don’t forget to book our usual table.”

*   *   *

The butler hadn’t seen Evelyn running down the stairs since she was a small child.

“Have you seen my brother?” she shouted long before she’d reached the bottom step.

“He’s just gone in to breakfast, Miss Evelyn,” Caxton said, hurrying across the hall to open the dining-room door for her.

“Whatever’s the matter, Eve?” asked Lawrence as his sister burst into the room.

“Have you moved the Warhol from the Jefferson bedroom?” she asked, still out of breath.

“What are you talking about?” said Lawrence, putting down his coffee.

“The Warhol, it’s gone. It’s not there.”

Lawrence leaped up from his place and walked quickly out of the room. He took the stairs up to the first floor two at a time, before making his way along the landing and into the Jefferson room. He found a bare hook on the wall where the Warhol had once hung.

“When did you last see it?” he asked as Evelyn stared at the faint outline of where the picture had been.

“I can’t be sure. I’ve just got so used to it being there. But I do recall seeing it on the night of your party.” A long silence followed before she added, “I feel ashamed, Lawrence, because I think it could be my fault.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“I got a little drunk on the night of your party, and allowed someone to join me in my room.”

“Who?”

“Your friend Alex Karpenko.”

“Did he stay the night?”

“Certainly not. He’d left by the time I woke in the morning. I just didn’t think…”

“You never do,” said Lawrence. “But if anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”

“Perhaps I should try and contact him, and see if I can get the picture back?”