All by Myself, Alone

by Mary Higgins Clark

  They had pouches of jewelry on the bed and she began opening them one by one. The first one contained the pearls, earrings and ring she had worn the first night on board. They’re probably the next most valuable pieces, Lady Em observed. “Brenda, I know I may have told you how the twenty-one-year-old wife of the great opera singer Caruso wrote a memoir about her life with him. In it she wrote of going to Delmonico’s after the opera and having everyone who mattered come up to their table to pay homage to him. In the memoir she wrote, ‘And I was wrapped in sable, pearls and enchantment.’ ”

  “I think you did tell me,” Brenda replied to her employer gently.

  “Oh, I’m sure I did,” Lady Em agreed cheerfully. “I suppose it’s that as you get older you talk about the past more and more.” She held up a diamond bracelet. “I haven’t worn this in years. The very expensive jewels I brought to wear on the cruise were the pearls I wore the night we sailed, the ruby-and-diamond necklace, and of course, the emerald necklace. That I’ll wear tonight. But I love this bracelet. Richard picked it up for me one morning when we were walking past Harry Winston on Fifth Avenue. We stopped to look at the window display and I happened to admire it. Richard propelled me inside and a moment later it was on my wrist. He paid eighty thousand dollars for it. When I protested, he said, ‘It isn’t that expensive. Wear it to picnics.’

  “Dear God, how he pampered me. But he also was the most generous man alive. He contributed to so many charities.” Her expression changed as she examined the bracelet carefully. “It doesn’t look right,” she said. “There’s something about the diamonds—they don’t have that beautiful hint of blue anymore.”

  She glanced up at Brenda and saw the look of consternation and fear that came over her face. What’s the matter with her? Lady Em asked herself, then looked back at the bracelet. It’s not the one Richard gave me, she thought. I know it isn’t. I haven’t worn so much of my jewelry in years, she thought. Is it possible she’s been stealing it and substituting it with junk?

  In that moment she was sure she was right. Don’t let her know that you know, she warned herself. “Well, you can use the polishing cloth to brighten it up when you get a chance, Brenda,” she said, “and if that doesn’t work, I’ll have Celia Kilbride give it a deep cleaning when we get home.”

  Lady Em sighed. “I’ve had enough of playing with my jewelry. I think I’ll rest for a bit. I’ve asked Roger to stop by at eleven o’clock. I want to have a private chat with him. Why don’t you take some time for yourself?”

  32

  After the ceremony with Devon Michaelson, Celia half-willingly agreed to join Alvirah and Willy for lunch in the buffet dining room. “I read that you can get everything from sushi to Chinese food to Central European,” Alvirah told her.

  They would meet at one o’clock in the restaurant, and beforehand she took a long walk around the promenade deck.

  When she returned to her stateroom, she showered, dressed in blue slacks and a blue-and-white top, ordered breakfast and went over her notes for her lectures. Today she would talk about other fabled jewels through the ages and the histories of individual pieces of jewelry that had been given in love, appeasement or as a bribe.

  One of the stories was about the elegant wife of William Randolph Hearst, who discovered that her husband had built San Simeon castle for his mistress, the actress Marion Davies. Celia went over what she would say in her head.

  “ ‘When he was beginning the newspaper business, I was there, and I gave him five sons,’ ” Ms. Hearst was reported to have said to a friend. Then she went to Tiffany’s and ordered a magnificent long pearl necklace and told the saleswoman to send the bill to her husband. The story goes that when he got it, he never even mentioned it to her.

  “And then a Hearst heiress and her husband were invited to a formal dinner on the Britannia when Queen Elizabeth II sailed on her to Los Angeles. Ms. Hearst was wearing the family emeralds.

  “When she boarded the Britannia, the Queen was wearing her own magnificent emeralds. Ms. Hearst confided to a friend, ‘Compared to hers, mine looked as if they came out of a Cracker Jack box!’ ”

  The final personal story would be about the King of Saudi Arabia who was accompanied by his daughter to a White House state dinner. The twenty-two-year-old princess kept the President waiting twenty minutes, an unpardonable breach of etiquette. But that fact was forgotten by the media, whose focus was on her three-strand necklace, a stunning mixture of priceless gemstones from diamonds and rubies to emeralds and sapphires.

  It’s human to enjoy the gossipy stories, Celia thought, and telling just a few never failed to spice up a lecture.

  Satisfied that she was prepared for the presentation, Celia looked at her watch. It was quarter of one and time to join Alvirah and Willy in the buffet dining room for lunch. It’s hardly self-service, she thought, remembering other luxurious ocean liners she had been on that had the same kind of service. When a passenger had finished making a selection, a waiter was always there to carry the tray to a table and serve whatever beverage was requested.

  She looked at her watch again and decided she had enough time to call her lawyer. She wanted to see if he had heard anything about whether they might be viewing her differently after the People magazine article. Randolph Knowles was not in his office. His secretary promised he would return the call. Celia could not help asking, “Any word from the US Attorney’s Office?”

  “No, nothing. Oh, wait a minute. Mr. Knowles just walked in.” Celia heard her say, “Ms. Kilbride is on the phone.” Then, when Randolph said, “Hello, Celia,” she knew she was not going to hear good news. She did not go through the formality of greeting him. “What’s going on, Randolph?” she asked.

  “Celia, it’s not good,” Randolph told her. “Your ex-fiancé is such a convincing liar that the US Attorney’s Office just called me to say that they may ask the FBI to interview you again when you get home.”

  Celia thought numbly, I’m flying back from London the day we dock in Southampton. That’s only a few days from now. She remembered the stony faces of the FBI agents who had interrogated her.

  Randolph was talking. “Celia, they put you through the mill already and they believed you. This is simply another hurdle.” But it was obvious from his tone that he was not convinced.

  “I hope it is.” Celia pressed the red button on her cell phone. If only I hadn’t promised the Meehans I would join them, she thought passionately. But she had, and a few minutes later a waiter was pulling out a chair for her at the table where they were sitting.

  They both smiled and Alvirah greeted her warmly. “Celia, as I said before, we’re so happy to be able to have a chance to chat with you. Willy told me he was initially sorry he went into Carruthers to ask about the prices of some of the rings he saw in the display cases, but then you came along and made him feel so comfortable.”

  What she did not add was that she was dying to talk to Celia about her crooked ex-boyfriend. She was sure that when his trial came up she would be asked to cover it in her column in the Globe.

  Of course she would not just plunge into that right away. “Why don’t we all make our selections,” she suggested. “And then we can chat.”

  But a few minutes later, when Willy was happily enjoying a plate of sushi and she was halfway through a bowl of linguini with clam sauce, she noticed that Celia had eaten only a few bites of her chicken salad.

  “Celia, if you don’t like the salad, you can get something else,” Alvirah said.

  Celia felt a sudden lump in her throat and knew her eyes were filling with tears. Quickly she reached in her bag for her sunglasses. But Alvirah had noticed. “Celia,” she said in a voice rich with concern, “we know the stress you’re under.”

  “I guess everybody knows. And if they didn’t know before, they’ll find out today.”

  “Celia, sadly, what your fiancé did is all too common, but everyone is sorry for you being caught in that mess.”

  “Eve
ryone except my closest friends, who lost money they couldn’t afford to lose and blame me for having introduced Steven to them.”

  “You lost money too,” Willy said.

  “Two hundred fifty thousand dollars! In other words, every cent I had,” Celia said. Unwillingly, she realized that it was somehow comforting to unburden herself to people who were virtual strangers. But then she remembered that Willy had told her so much about them when she was helping him select the ring. He had explained to her how Alvirah had formed a support group for people who had won the lottery, so they wouldn’t be taken in by con men. She knew that she had liked Willy on sight and liked Alvirah the minute Willy described her.

  And it was a relief to be able to share her anxiety with people who were looking at her with kind and sympathetic expressions.

  The words came tumbling out. “Steven gave an interview to People magazine, and in it he said that I was part of the scheme to build up his fund by introducing him to my friends. It’s going to be all over the media today. Now, because of the article, it looks like the FBI is going to question me again when I get back to New York.”

  “You did tell the truth,” Alvirah said. It was not a question.

  “Of course I did.”

  “And Steven What’s-his-name has lied to you and everyone else?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why wouldn’t he lie to People magazine as well?”

  Celia could feel Alvirah’s reassurance begin to lift some of the crushing worry from her shoulders. Not completely. She wasn’t going to talk now about the fact that her job at Carruthers was in jeopardy. She knew the chief executive had been upset that one of their employees had been linked to a scam. Now, the more she thought about it, the more certain she was that when she got back to New York she would at the least be put on an unpaid leave of absence. I can’t keep up with the rent on my apartment and all the other overhead expenses like insurance and utilities for more than three months, not to mention ongoing legal bills, she thought. And then what? Would any jewelry firm want to hire me?

  All this flashed through her mind in an instant, but then she blinked away the tears that had not fallen and forced a smile. “I feel as though I’ve been to confession.”

  “Just keep this in mind, Celia.” Now Alvirah’s voice was firm. “You have absolutely no need of absolution in any way, shape or form. Now, eat your salad. Things will work out fine. I can feel it in my bones.”

  33

  Brenda’s suite was on the floor below Lady Em’s. It was smaller, but had valet service. When Lady Em decided to have her lunch served in her suite and rest for an hour, Brenda went to the buffet restaurant. Even though she was almost desperate with worry, she still had a hearty appetite. She went to the section that served Chinese food and helped herself to wonton soup, pork fried rice and a dumpling. Then on impulse, she grabbed a fortune cookie. As a waiter carried her tray to a small table by the window, she looked around the dining room. About six tables from the one where she was heading to, she saw Celia with Alvirah and her husband. They seemed to be engrossed in conversation. No idle chatter for them, she thought sarcastically.

  Her eyes filled with hatred as she looked at Celia. She’s the one who could put me in prison, she thought bitterly.

  “Here you are, ma’am,” the waiter, a handsome Asian man, said as he removed dishes from the tray and placed them on the table.

  Brenda did not thank him. He asked if she cared for a beverage. “Regular coffee with cream and sugar.” Her tone was dismissive.

  What was she going to do? she asked herself. And why now does Lady Em all of a sudden get the idea that her jewelry doesn’t look right? For years she’s ignored all but the best pieces in her collection. And for years she has been adding to it, buying a ten-thousand-dollar ring or a forty-thousand-dollar bracelet she saw in a store window, as she did on St. Thomas. She wears her new pieces a few times, then tosses them into the master safe in the apartment.

  Brenda began sipping the wonton soup and thought of Ralphie. She had met him five years ago, and they had been together ever since. She had not told Lady Em about him, of course. Ralph was a sixty-seven-year-old insurance salesman whom she happily supported in the three-room apartment Lady Em had purchased for her to use, and where Brenda spent her free weekends. Not that there were many of them, she thought resentfully. But after she’s in bed and with the sleep-in housekeeper in her apartment, I can escape there.

  After she told Ralph about Lady Em’s incredible jewelry collection, he had asked her how frequently she wore all those pieces. She had told him that Lady Em would often buy a necklace or earrings or a ring or a bracelet that had caught her eye, wear it a few times and then forget all about it or simply not bother to put it on again.

  Ralph’s next question had been, “Is everything insured?”

  The answer was that Lady Em only insured the pieces that were worth over one hundred thousand dollars.

  And that’s how it began. Ralph had a jeweler friend who worked with them to substitute fake gems for the ones in Lady Em’s safe. It was so easy. Brenda had the code to the safe. She would take a piece out and give it to Ralphie. He would bring it to the jeweler, who would create a similar-looking piece. When it was ready, she would put it in the safe. The one piece of jewelry that wasn’t in the safe and that she had never seen was the Cleopatra necklace.

  Now as she pushed aside the empty soup bowl and began to eat the pork fried rice, Brenda cursed herself for being stupid enough to have fooled with the “picnic” bracelet that Sir Richard had bought for Lady Em when they were strolling down Fifth Avenue. Lady Em cherished it. God knows I heard the story often enough to realize that I should have left it alone, Brenda thought bitterly.

  She and Ralphie had over two million dollars thanks to selling Lady Em’s jewelry, but what good would it do them if Lady Em had that bracelet checked by Celia Kilbride, let alone all the others that had been switched? She would prosecute them, that was for sure. She had once done it to a chef who had been padding the food bills. “I pay you very well,” she told him. “Now you will pay for your greed.”

  Brenda finished everything on her plate and went to the dessert section. She selected a generous slice of chocolate layer cake and returned to the table. It had already been cleared except for the coffee cup, which had been refilled.

  I like traveling like this, she thought. At least I did until I met Ralphie and fell in love. I have to say these twenty years with Lady Em have been interesting, the trips all around the world, the Broadway plays, the people I’ve met.

  When they got back to New York next Thursday, it would be the beginning of the end—and fast. But if something happened to Lady Em before then, there would be no worries, and the three hundred thousand Lady Em planned to leave her in her will would be hers.

  Brenda opened her fortune cookie. Big changes in your life are coming. Be ready. Well, that could be really good or really bad, she thought, as she crumpled the slip of paper and dropped it.

  She glanced at the table where Celia Kilbride and the Meehans were pushing back their chairs. A sudden thought hit her. Would Lady Em be troubled enough about the bracelet to give it to Celia to examine before they were back in New York? If she did, would Celia be able to tell that it would never have been displayed in the window of Harry Winston? Of course, she would.

  It was another frightening possibility.

  34

  Roger had come back from his meeting with Lady Em with his worry confirmed. She had introduced the subject gently. “Roger, you know how grateful I am to you for the way you have handled my affairs, but I am very old and have heart trouble. As you know, virtually all of my money will go to the charities I have always supported. If there are any discrepancies in what I have, or where it came from, I want to be around to help tidy them up. That’s why, although I trust you and the work you have done, I think it would be a good idea to have an outside accounting firm go over everything and be sure my affairs are comp
letely in order.”

  Lady Em had waved off Roger’s initial protest by saying that she did not want to be late for her hair appointment.

  Two hours later Yvonne and Roger were the first two at their table for the luncheon service in the formal dining room. They had gone there in the hope of talking to Lady Em. They would try to dissuade her from spending a great deal of money for an unnecessary review of her finances.

  Roger had spent a near-sleepless night planning how to deal with the subject if Lady Em brought it up at the meeting.

  When given the opportunity, Roger would point out to Lady Em that all the charities would have their own legal counsel carefully examine the terms of her will and her holdings. At this age, why would she trouble herself? His chief argument would be that in all the years the IRS had reviewed her income tax returns, they had never once ordered an audit. “And believe me, Lady Em,” he would say, “they go over your returns with a fine-tooth comb.”

  The prospect of persuading her to not go forward with the review became so likely in his mind that he actually began to feel better. As he and Yvonne sat at the table waiting for Lady Em, he did get in a word of warning to his wife. “And stop looking so damn bored. You’re not that interesting yourself, you know.”

  “Look who’s talking,” Yvonne snapped, but she did force an amiable expression onto her face. After fifteen minutes passed, they knew that they would be dining alone and ordered lunch. Just as it was being served, Professor Henry Longworth came into the dining room and joined them.

  “We haven’t had much chance to chat,” he said with a smile. “So it will be nice to visit with the two of you alone.”

  Roger returned the sentiment while Yvonne asked herself if the professor was going to start talking about Shakespeare. She had tolerated yesterday’s lecture but had no intention of going to his next one. She had little interest in making small talk with him.