Morning, Noon & Night

by Sidney Sheldon

  “Hello,” he said. “May I help you?”

  “I’d like a room, please.”

  “Single?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long will you be staying?”

  She hesitated. An hour? Ten years? “I don’t know.” “Right.” He checked the key rack. “I have a nice single for you on the fourth floor.” “Thank you.” She signed the register in a neat hand. JULIA STANFORD.

  The clerk handed her a key. “There you are. Enjoy your stay.”

  The room was small, but neat and clean. As soon as Julia unpacked, she telephoned Sally.

  “Julia? My God! Where are you?”

  “I’m in Boston.”

  “Are you all right?” She sounded hysterical.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Someone came to the apartment, looking for you, and I think he wanted to kill you!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He had a knife and…you should have seen the look on his face…” She was gasping for breath. “When he found out I wasn’t you, he ran!”

  “I don’t believe it!”

  “He said he was with A. C. Nielsen, but I called their office, and they never heard of him! Do you know anyone who would want to harm you?”

  “Of course not, Sally! Don’t be ridiculous! Did you call the police?”

  “I did. But there wasn’t much they could do except tell me to be more careful.”

  “Well, I’m just fine, so don’t worry.”

  She heard Sally take a deep breath. “All right. As long as you’re okay. Julia?”

  “Yes.”

  “Be careful, will you?”

  “Of course.” Sally and her imagination! Who in the world would want to kill me?

  “Do you know when you’re coming back?”

  The same kind of question the clerk had asked her. “No.”

  “You’re there to see your family, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks, Sally.”

  “Keep in touch.”

  “I will.”

  Julia replaced the receiver. She stood there, wondering what to do next. If I had any brains, I would get back on the bus and go home. I’ve been stalling. Did I come to Boston to see the sights? No. I came here to meet my family. Am I going to meet them? No…Yes….

  She sat on the edge of the bed, her mind in a turmoil. What if they hate me? I must not think that. They’re going to love me, and I’m going to love them. She looked at the telephone and thought, Maybe it would be better if I called them. No. Then they might not want to see me. She went to the closet and selected her best dress. If I don’t do it now, I’ll never do it, Julia decided.

  Thirty minutes later, she was in a taxi on her way to Rose Hill to meet her family.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Tyler was staring at Clark in disbelief. “Julia Stanford…is here?”

  “Yes, sir.” There was a puzzled tone in the butler’s voice. “But it isn’t the same Miss Stanford who was here earlier.”

  Tyler forced a smile. “Of course not. I’m afraid it’s an impostor.”

  “An impostor, sir?”

  “Yes. They’ll be coming out of the woodwork, Clark, all claiming a right to the family fortune.”

  “That’s terrible, sir. Shall I call the police?”

  “No,” Tyler said quickly. That was the last thing he wanted. “I’ll handle it. Send her into the library.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Tyler’s mind was racing. So the real Julia Stanford had finally showed up. It was fortunate that none of the other members of the family was home at the moment. He would have to get rid of her immediately.

  Tyler walked into the library. Julia was standing in the middle of the room, looking at a portrait of Harry Stanford. Tyler stood there a moment, studying the woman. She was beautiful. It was too bad that…

  Julia turned around and saw him. “Hello.”

  “Hello.”

  “You’re Tyler.”

  “That’s right. Who are you?”

  Her smile faded. “Didn’t…? I’m Julia Stanford.”

  “Really? You’ll forgive my asking, but do you have any proof of that?”

  “Proof? Well, yes…I…that is…no proof. I just assumed—”

  He moved closer to her. “How did you happen to come here?”

  “I decided that it was time to meet my family.”

  “After twenty-six years?”

  “Yes.”

  Looking at her, listening to her speak, there was no question in Tyler’s mind. She was genuine, dangerous, and would have to be disposed of quickly.

  Tyler forced a smile. “Well, you can imagine what a shock this is to me. I mean, for you to appear here out of the blue and…”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I probably should have called first.”

  Tyler asked casually, “You came to Boston alone?”

  “Yes.”

  His mind was racing. “Does anyone else know you’re here?”

  “No. Well, my roommate, Sally, in Kansas City…”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “At the Copley Square Hotel.”

  “That’s a nice hotel. What room are you in?”

  “Four nineteen.”

  “All right. Why don’t you go back to your hotel and wait there for us? I want to prepare Woody and Kendall for this. They’re going to be as surprised as I was.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have—”

  “No problem. Now that we’ve met, I know that everything is going to be just fine.”

  “Thank you, Tyler.”

  “You’re welcome”—he almost choked on the word—“Julia. Let me call a taxi for you.”

  Five minutes later, she was gone.

  Hal Baker had just returned to his hotel room in downtown Boston when the telephone call came. He picked it up.

  “Hal?”

  “I’m sorry. I have no news yet, Judge. I’ve combed this whole town. I went to the airport and—”

  “She’s here, stupid!”

  “What?”

  “She’s here in Boston. She’s staying at the Copley Square Hotel, room four nineteen. I want her taken care of tonight. And I don’t want any more bungling, do you understand?”

  “What happened was not my—”

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then do it!” Tyler slammed down the receiver. He went to find Clark.

  “Clark, about that young woman who was here pretending she was my sister?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I wouldn’t say anything about it to the other members of the family. It would just upset them.”

  “I understand, sir. You’re very thoughtful.”

  Julia walked over to The Ritz-Carlton for dinner. The hotel was beautiful, just as her mother had described it. On Sunday, I used to take the children there for brunch. Julia sat in the dining room and visualized her mother there at a table with young Tyler, Woody, and Kendall. I wish I could have grown up with them, Julia thought. But at least I’m going to meet them now. She wondered whether her mother would have approved of what she was doing. Julia had been taken aback by Tyler’s reception. He had seemed…cold. But that’s only natural, Julia thought. A stranger walks in and says, “I’m your sister.” Of course he would be suspicious. But I’m sure I can convince them.

  When the check came, Julia stared at it in shock. I have to be careful, she thought. I have to have enough money left to take the bus back to Kansas.

  As she stepped outside The Ritz-Carlton, a tour bus was getting ready to leave. On an impulse, she boarded it. She wanted to see as much of her mother’s city as she could.

  Hal Baker strode into the lobby of the Copley Square Hotel as though he belonged there and took the stairs to the fourth floor. This time there would be no mistake. Room 419 was in the middle of the corridor. Hal Baker scanned the hallway to make sure no one was around,
and knocked on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again. “Miss Stanford?” Still no answer.

  He took a small case from his pocket and selected a pick. It took him only seconds to open the door. Hal Baker stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The room was empty.

  “Miss Stanford?”

  He walked into the bathroom. Empty. He went back into the bedroom. He took a knife out of his pocket, moved a chair in back of the door, and sat in the dark, waiting. It was one hour later when he heard someone approaching.

  Hal Baker rose quickly and stood behind the door, the knife in his hands. He heard the key turn in the lock, and the door started to swing open. He raised the knife high over his head, ready to strike. Julia Stanford stepped in and pressed the light switch on. He heard her say, “Very well. Come in.”

  A crowd of reporters poured into the room.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  It was Gordon Wellman, the night manager at the Copley Square Hotel, who inadvertently saved Julia’s life. He had come on duty at six o’clock that evening, and had automatically checked the hotel register. When he came across the name of Julia Stanford, he stared at it in surprise. Ever since Harry Stanford had died, the newspapers had been full of stories about the Stanford family. They had dredged up the ancient scandal of Stanford’s affair with the children’s governess and the suicide of Stanford’s wife. Harry Stanford had an illegitimate daughter named Julia. There were rumors that she had come to Boston in secret. Shortly after going on a shopping spree, she had reportedly left for South America. Now, it seemed that she was back. And she’s staying at my hotel! Gordon Wellman thought excitedly.

  He turned to the front-desk clerk. “Do you know how much publicity this could mean for the hotel?”

  A minute later, he was on the telephone to the press.

  When Julia arrived back at the hotel after her sightseeing tour, the lobby was filled with reporters, eagerly awaiting her. As soon as she walked into the lobby, they pounced.

  “Miss Stanford! I’m from The Boston Globe. We’ve been looking for you, but we heard that you had left town. Could you tell us…?”

  A television camera was pointed at her. “Miss Stanford, I’m with WCVB-TV. We’d like to get a statement from you…”

  “Miss Stanford, I’m from The Boston Phoenix. We want to know your reaction to…”

  “Look this way, Miss Stanford! Smile! Thank you.”

  Flashes were popping.

  Julia stood there, filled with confusion. Oh, my God, she thought. The family is going to think that I’m some kind of publicity hound. She turned to the reporters. “I’m sorry. I have nothing to say.”

  She fled into the elevator. They piled in after her.

  “People magazine wants to do a story on your life, and what it feels like to be estranged from your family for over twenty-five years…”

  “We heard you had gone to South America…”

  “Are you planning to live in Boston…?”

  “Why aren’t you staying at Rose Hill…?”

  She got out of the elevator at the fourth floor and hurried down the corridor. They were at her heels. There was no way to escape them.

  Julia took out her key and opened the door to her room. She stepped inside and turned on the light. “Very well. Come in.”

  Hidden behind the door, Hal Baker was caught by surprise, the knife in his raised hand. As the reporters shoved past him, he quickly put the knife back in his pocket and mingled with the group.

  Julia turned to the reporters. “All right. One question at a time, please.”

  Frustrated, Baker backed toward the door and slipped out. Judge Stanford was not going to be pleased.

  For the next thirty minutes, Julia answered questions as best she could. Finally, they were gone.

  Julia locked the door and went to bed.

  In the morning, the television stations and newspapers featured stories about Julia Stanford.

  Tyler read the papers and was furious. Woody and Kendall joined him at the breakfast table.

  “What’s all this nonsense about some woman calling herself Julia Stanford?” Woody asked.

  “She’s a phony,” Tyler said glibly. “She came to the door yesterday, demanding money, and I sent her away. I didn’t expect her to pull a cheap publicity stunt like this. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”

  He put in a call to Simon Fitzgerald. “Have you seen the morning papers?”

  “Yes.”

  “This con artist is going around town claiming that she’s our sister.”

  Fitzgerald said, “Do you want me to have her arrested?”

  “No! That would only create more publicity. I want you to get her out of town.”

  “All right. I’ll take care of it, Judge Stanford.”

  “Thank you.”

  Simon Fitzgerald sent for Steve Sloane.

  “There’s a problem,” he said.

  Steve nodded. “I know. I’ve heard the morning news and seen the papers. Who is she?”

  “Obviously someone who thinks she can horn in on the family fortune. Judge Stanford suggested we get her out of town. Will you handle her?”

  “My pleasure,” Steve said grimly.

  One hour later, Steve was knocking on Julia’s hotel room door.

  When Julia opened the door and saw him standing there, she said, “I’m sorry. I’m not talking to any more reporters. I…”

  “I’m not a reporter. May I come in?”

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Steve Sloane. I’m with the law firm representing the Harry Stanford estate.”

  “Oh. I see. Yes. Come in.”

  Steve walked into the room.

  “Did you tell the press that you are Julia Stanford?”

  “I’m afraid I was caught off guard. I didn’t expect them, you see, and…”

  “But you did claim to be Harry Stanford’s daughter?”

  “Yes. I am his daughter.”

  He looked at her and said cynically, “Of course, you have proof of that.”

  “Well, no,” Julia said slowly. “I don’t.”

  “Come on,” Steve insisted. “You must have some proof.” He intended to nail her with her own lies.

  “I have nothing,” she said.

  He studied her, surprised. She was not what he had expected. There was a disarming frankness about her. She seems intelligent. How could she have been stupid enough to come here claiming to be Harry Stanford’s daughter without any proof?

  “That’s too bad,” Steve said. “Judge Stanford wants you to get out of town.”

  Julia’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “That’s right.”

  “But…I don’t understand. I haven’t even met my other brother or sister.”

  So she’s determined to keep up the bluff, Steve thought. “Look, I don’t know who you are, or what your game is, but you could go to jail for this. We’re giving you a break. What you’re doing is against the law. You have a choice. You either can get out of town and stop bothering the family, or we can have you arrested.”

  Julia stood there in shock. “Arrested? I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “It’s your decision.”

  “They don’t even want to see me?” Julia asked numbly.

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  She took a deep breath. “All right. If that’s what they want, I’ll go back to Kansas. I promise you, they’ll never hear from me again.”

  Kansas. You came a long way to pull your little scam. “That’s very wise.” He stood there a moment, watching her, puzzled. “Well, good-bye.”

  She did not reply.

  Steve was in Simon Fitzgerald’s office.

  “Did you see the woman, Steve?”

  “Yes. She’s going back home.” He seemed distracted.

  “Good. I’ll tell Judge Stanford. He’ll be pleased.”

  “Do you know what’s bugging me, Simon?”

  “What?”

>   “The dog didn’t bark.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “The Sherlock Holmes story. The clue was in what didn’t happen.”

  “Steve, what does that have to do with—?”

  “She came here without any proof.”

  Fitzgerald looked at him, puzzled. “I don’t understand. That should have convinced you.”

  “On the contrary. Why would she come here, all the way from Kansas, claiming to be Harry Stanford’s daughter, and not have a single thing to back it up?”

  “There are a lot of weirdos out there, Steve.”

  “She’s not a weirdo. You should have seen her. And there are a couple of other things that bother me, Simon.”

  “Yes?”

  “Harry Stanford’s body disappeared…When I went to talk to Dmitri Kaminsky, the only witness to Stanford’s accident, he had disappeared…And no one seems to know where the first Julia Stanford suddenly disappeared to.”

  Simon Fitzgerald was frowning. “What are you saying?”

  Steve said, slowly, “There’s something going on that needs to be explained. I’m going to have another talk with the lady.”

  Steve Sloane walked into the lobby of the Copley Square Hotel and approached the desk clerk. “Would you ring Miss Julia Stanford, please?”

  The clerk looked up. “Oh, I’m sorry. Miss Stanford has checked out.”

  “Did she leave a forwarding address?”

  “No, sir. I’m afraid not.”

  Steve stood there, frustrated. There was nothing more he could do. Well, maybe I was wrong, he thought philosophically. Maybe she really is an impostor. Now we’ll never know. He turned and went out into the street. The doorman was ushering a couple into a taxi.

  “Excuse me,” Steve said.

  The doorman turned. “Taxi, sir?”

  “No. I want to ask you a question. Did you see Miss Stanford come out of the hotel this morning?”

  “I certainly did. Everybody was staring at her. She’s quite a celebrity. I got a taxi for her.”

  “I don’t suppose you know where she went?” He found that he was holding his breath.

  “Sure. I told the cab driver where to take her.”

  “And where was that?” Steve asked impatiently.

  “To the Greyhound bus terminal at South Station. I thought it was strange that someone as rich as that would…”