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.