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Lucy looked at the folded piece of paper in my hand with equal measures of curiosity and fear.

“Things started to make sense,” I said. “Like when we were looking through your father’s house, and you asked me whether I could get fingerprints off his desk, off the drawers. All along, it was about finding this. For a while, you must have thought it was taken by whoever you heard running out the back door when you came in. But that person was only after the DVDs.”

Her eyes were locked on the letter.

“I know,” she said. “That’s why I thought it had to be someone else who’d found it... Someone else.”

I had an idea who she was talking about.

“Do you want to see it?” I asked.

She took a step toward the table and held out her hand. I placed it on her palm.

It had been folded in thirds. Her fingers shook as she opened it up and began to read.

I had read it several times. It said this:

Dear Lucy:

I guess if you are reading this, then something has happened. I’m gone. You’ve found this in my desk drawer, where I told you it would be. I can only imagine my fate. I’ve always felt that the least likely way I would go is natural causes. I’m not one to grow old and fade away. Was it someone from my past? Someone who’d come to even up the score? A spurned lover? A jealous husband? God knows, maybe Miriam has taken one of the knives from the kitchen and put it into my heart. I’ve been pretty lucky to have lived as long as I have.

There’s much about my past I’ve never told you. The broad strokes, of course, you know. I ran with bad people. I did bad things. When I broke away, I left with my pockets full, and covered my tracks well. Some of the secrets I left behind are, literally, buried. I think you are better off not knowing more.

The thing I want you to know is that I have loved you and Crystal with all my heart. I know life for the two of you has not been easy. Crystal, I adore, and I hope one day she finds her way. She is a tremendously gifted child. Often, those with great gifts are tortured for them when they are young. The day will come when her talents will be appreciated. I think she will be a famous artist one day.

So I very much wanted, once I was gone, to be able to leave the two of you, as they say, well-fixed.

And I am so sorry to tell you that things have not turned out the way I had planned.

I could tell when Lucy had reached this point. Her face fell as though it had been dropped out of a plane.

There was a time when I thought I would be able to leave you a great deal. But my financial needs in recent years have exceeded my expectations. My books did not bring in the kinds of advances I had hoped for. I began many projects that I did not finish. Ultimately, I believe I had nothing left to say. So my legitimate income stream came to an end. But I still had to support myself, and Miriam had come to deserve a certain lifestyle. I did not want to disappoint her.

It became necessary to return to the well — the well being a safe-deposit box in a bank in Albany — more often than I had anticipated.

I wish there were something left to give you.

I know I should have discussed this with you in person, but there never seemed to be a right time. But maybe what has transpired, in the end, is a good thing. We must all assume responsibility for our own lives. We can’t be waiting around for that proverbial ship to come in. Perhaps this new reality will force you to reassess your priorities. There are bumps in the road of life. Good God, did I actually write that? Is it any wonder that I am no longer published?

I know it’s not much, but I have, in my will, stipulated that you receive my Jaguar. It’s a rare set of wheels, and you should be able to get some decent money for it.

All my love, Your father

I watched as she read it to the end, then allowed the page to slip through her fingers and flutter to the floor.

“The bastard,” she whispered. “The miserable, self-consumed, lying son of a bitch. He told me... He promised me...”

“Adam Chalmers looked after himself first,” I said. “Everyone else came second.”

“But how could he... it would be enough, doing this to me. But to Crystal? To his granddaughter?”

I didn’t know what to say.

“How could he do this to me? How?”

I shook my head slowly.

Her eyes rolled toward the ceiling. She tented her hands over her mouth. “Oh no, no, no, this is not happening.”

I had another question.

“Where did you go last night, Lucy?”

“What?”

“Before I came over, and spent the night. After you’d put Lucy to bed. You went out.”

“No,” she said quietly. “No, I didn’t. How do you know... why do you think...?”

“Crystal heard you leave. She watched you drive away, waited for you to come back.”

“No, that’s not possible.”

“You weren’t wearing the same clothes when I came over last night.”

“I... I wanted to look nice for you.”

I said nothing.

“Oh, God, oh no, oh no... what have I done?”

I said, “What have you done, Lucy?”

“I thought it must have been her...”

“Miriam. You thought Miriam must have found the letter. That’s what you’re saying.”

She nodded without looking at me, as though my voice were disembodied, coming to her through a speaker.

“If Miriam had found the letter, she’d be able to get her hands on the money that was to be left to you,” I said. “That’s why you went to see her, when you found out she was actually alive.”

Now she turned her head to look at me. “She said she didn’t have it, that she didn’t know what I was talking about... I didn’t believe her.”

I watched as the realization took hold.

“Miriam was telling the truth,” Lucy said. “She didn’t know anything about it. Because Crystal had it.”

“What happened when you got there?” I asked. “Did Miriam attack you? Is that what happened? Was it self-defense?”

“I... she fell... running up the stairs. I just wanted to talk to her... I grabbed her arm, and... she went backwards. Oh my God, it was an accident... I never went over there to... I just wanted to get the letter from her.”

“She never had it,” I said.

Now she looked at me. “Do they know? The police, do they know?”

I stood up. “I don’t know. It’s early yet in the investigation.”

“I... I was going to call an ambulance, but I could tell... she wasn’t breathing. When she fell... there was this horrible, horrible noise.” Lucy reached up and touched her own neck. “It made a noise. I... I decided there was no point in calling. I got out of there. It was dark. I’m pretty sure no one saw me arrive or leave... I’d parked up next to the house, where you can’t really see from the street... I didn’t have any blood on my clothes, but I thought... maybe there was something of her... something on me... I showered. I got cleaned up. I put my clothes in the wash.”

She looked at me pleadingly. “I think I’m okay. I mean, even if they find my fingerprints in the house, that means nothing, right? I was there often. You can tell them I was with you. You’re a witness. You were with me all night. You can back me up on that. Cal, please?”