“Even after all the stupid things you’ve done,” Julia said. “And now that I’m a rich woman, I may even decide to bail out the company, but only on one condition.”
“What?”
“That I run the finances from now on,” Julia said. “And I don’t mean just at home. I want my own office and a chair at the boardroom table.”
Marcus smiled and held his wife’s hand. “Anything you want, boss. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, and I’ve just run a big company into the ground, but I’m still the luckiest guy I know.”
* * *
Walter shook his head. “I never even considered Donna.”
“That’s because no one thought she had a motive.” Victoria sat on the arm of his office chair. “But everything pointed to her. Donna was the only person who didn’t have a key to the house. She was the one who locked the dining-room door. And Donna was friendlier with Camille than she wanted to admit. But when I found out that Camille was murdered with a lamp, I mean, who else would use a lamp as a weapon, but a designer?”
“But how did you figure out her motive?”
“When the Inspector brought Donna into the living room, I suddenly remembered those letters in her shop, addressed to a couple at the shop’s address. Those letters didn’t make any sense unless Donna and Mrs. Wilton were the same person. Then I remembered Donna talking about her mother in New York, and I remembered reading in the police notes that Mrs. Abbott had received a letter from Mrs. Holt.”
“The newspapers are going crazy about you,” Walter said. “And rightly so. You saved Paul from a murder rap. And even though the family is going through the mud, at least we know we can trust each other. I hear the police chief even offered you a job.”
Victoria shook her head. “I tried to get Riggs to take all the credit, but he was too honest.”
“With your wartime background, you’d probably make a great private investigator,” Walter suggested. He wasn’t smiling anymore. “Think about it; you could have an exciting life, and you could be in the newspapers all the time.”
“I have no wartime background.” Victoria glanced at the office door to make sure it was closed. “First of all, I was studying during the war, and besides, that I’m very happy with my job.”
“And what about the rest of your life?” Walter asked. “Are you very happy with that?”
Victoria was about to answer when Walter waved his hand.
“Never mind.” He got up and walked to the window. He put his hands in his trouser pockets and with his back turned to her, he said, “We really don’t belong together, do we?”
Victoria tried to catch her breath. “What are you saying?”
“It needs to be said.” Walter looked back out the window. “I’ve known for months, but I didn’t want to admit it, and you’re too nice to say it. I’m sorry, Victoria, but we should cut our losses.”
Victoria felt ill. The silence seemed to last for hours. She grabbed her handbag and her gloves. “I thought…I didn’t realize…” Victoria stood up and took a deep breath. “Well, if that’s how you feel, I guess there isn’t much I can say.”
Walter kept staring out the window. “Goodbye, Victoria.”
Victoria walked to the door and grabbed the handle. Her hands were shaking. She opened it a couple of inches and paused. Her eyes were stinging, and she fought to keep the tears back. “Walter, I know I wasn’t always the easiest person to live with, but I truly wanted to make it work. I wanted you to love me.”
Walter turned and looked at her. “I never stopped loving you, Victoria. You’re the most wonderful woman I could ever imagine. But we’re nothing alike. And I can’t be the guy who holds you back.”
Victoria stood still. She was gripping the door and hardly breathing. “What?”
“At every party, you’re the woman who lights up the room,” Walter said, “and I’m the guy who struggles to carry the conversation. You’re beautiful and smart; you can fit in everywhere, but I’ve never fit in anywhere. Don’t you see that the whole world is sitting around wondering how long a woman like you can stand to be tied down to a guy like me?”
“I didn’t marry you by accident,” Victoria reminded him. “And whatever the world may think, I was never sorry to be with you.”
Walter took his hands out of his pockets and stared at her for several moments. Then his expression changed. “Victoria, if you really, truly mean that…”
Victoria nodded. Walter walked over to her, and she looked up at him.
The door was still ajar, but with a small bump, it closed.
Epilogue
It is worth mentioning that the police chief was so impressed with Inspector Riggs’ work on the Abbott-Sinclair Case, he gave him the next four days off, which was wholly unprecedented. On his way home, Michael Riggs bought a bouquet of white daisies for Amy and a bag of caramels for their children. He also decided to pick up two bottles of milk, which was fortuitous since Amy was cooking beef stroganoff for dinner and Criminal had just knocked the last bottle of milk onto the kitchen floor. The sun set over Elliott Bay, and as drove his old Plymouth home, he knew that even his older brother would have been proud of Sergeant Inspector Michael Riggs.
Acknowledgements
There are many people who have supported my work and to whom I am forever grateful. A huge thanks to my family, who endures one-sided plot speculations, sporadic character dialogues, and my intense writing schedule. I am indebted to an adventurous group of readers, Cheryl Barnes, Cornelia Schmitt, Lisa Tschannen, Naomi Johnson, and Kirstin Johnson, who braved manuscripts and offered much-needed criticism. In the publishing world, I would like to thank Steve Kasdin, Kate Folker, and Christine Bearden for their support and feedback. And lastly, I would like to thank my wonderful publishers, especially Verena Rose and Shawn Reilly Simmons, for giving the Elliott Bay Mysteries a home at Level Best Books.
About the Author
Jennifer Berg is an American mystery writer from the Pacific Northwest. Her Elliott Bay Mystery series is set in 1950s Seattle and currently features three books, The Charlatan Murders, The Blue Pearl Murders, and The Hatbox Murders. She is also the author of The Jazz Club Mysteries—set in San Diego during the 1940s, and her short story, Schemes in the Dark, was published in California Schemin’—Bouchercon Anthology 2020. She is a member of Sisters in Crime, the Crime Writers Association, and Mystery Writers of America, where she served on the board of the Southern California Chapter. She earned a BA in History from the University of Washington and spent much of the last twenty years in San Diego. Jennifer currently lives in a small town in Bavaria, Germany.
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