TWENTY

I followed Madame across the room again, this time to the line of decorative wall panels flanking the credenza, the ones featuring the Palace gargoyles. When she pressed the gargoyle head on one of the panels, it swung inward like a door.

As promised, a tiny office was hidden behind the wall, but when Madame peeked inside, she gasped.

The room had been completely ransacked. The chair and the desk were overturned, and the contents of two filing cabinets had been dumped onto the floor. Someone had riffled through them. Files and loose papers blanketed the burgundy carpeting like autumn leaves in an indoor forest.

Madame dropped to her knees and began searching through the chaos. I crouched beside her.

“What are we looking for?”

“A black file with Annette’s name on it—”

“What’s in it?”

“Among other things, Annette’s last will and testament. All of the Gotham Ladies have copies on file in this room.”

“Why?”

“Let’s just say we all try to watch each other’s backs—ah, here it is.”

Madame opened the file and leafed through the pages inside. It contained documents and even a group of small art prints. But—

“The will is missing.”

“Are you sure?” I pressed.

“Yes.”

“What does it mean?”

“I don’t know. Not yet. Help me up, dear,” she said, still clutching the file to her breast. As she rose, the color art prints tumbled onto the floor.

“Would you get those, please?”

I gathered up the postcard-sized prints and tucked them into the pocket of my Poetry in Motion jacket. Once on her feet, Madame swept her hair back and finger-combed her silver pageboy.

“This is troubling, Clare. Not many people know about this office.”

“The cops probably tossed it, looking for clues, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I see the private laptop computer Annette kept in here is gone, as well.”

Esther poked her head through the door a moment later.

“A hidden office—how cool. But someone should really hire a secretary to straighten out the filing system!”

“What is it, Esther?” Madame asked.

“The coffee is brewing, and I found clean cups in the cabinet. But the refrigerator’s empty, so we’re drinking it black, no sugar. I couldn’t find any cookies, either.”

“Black coffee will do, Esther. This is a tasting, not a tea party.”