The Sky is Falling. Sidney Sheldon
is.
‘I’ve been doing a lot of traveling. I think I’m going to start taking it easy for a while.’ She looked into Jeff’s eyes. ‘Do you remember the night that you and I–’
Dana looked up from the menu. ‘What is udang goreng?’
Rachel glanced at Dana. ‘That’s shrimp in coconut milk. It’s very good here.’ She turned back to Jeff. ’The night you and I decided that we wanted to –’
‘What is laksa?’
Rachel said patiently, ‘That’s spicy noodle soup.’ She turned back to Jeff. ’You said you wanted to –’
‘And poh pia?’
Rachel looked at Dana and said sweetly, ‘That’s jicama stir-fried with vegetables.’
‘Really?’ Dana decided not to ask what jicama was.
But as the meal went on, Dana was surprised that in spite of herself, she began to like Rachel Stevens. She had a warm and charming personality. Unlike most world-class beauties, Rachel seemed to be completely unself-conscious about her looks and displayed no ego. She was intelligent and articulate, and when she gave the luncheon order to the waiter in Thai, there was no hint of superiority. How did Jeff ever let this one get away? Dana wondered.
‘How long will you be in Washington?’ Dana asked.
‘I have to leave tomorrow.’
‘Where are you heading for this time?’ Jeff wanted to know.
Rachel hesitated. ‘Hawaii. But I’m feeling really tired, Jeff. I was even thinking of canceling this.’
‘But you won’t,’ Jeff said knowingly.
Rachel sighed. ‘No, I won’t.’
‘When will you be back?’ Dana asked.
Rachel looked at her for a long moment and then said softly, ‘I don’t think I’ll be coming back to Washington, Dana. I hope you and Jeff will be very happy.’ There was an unspoken message in her words.
Outside, after lunch, Dana said, ‘I have some errands to do. You two go on ahead.’
Rachel took Dana’s hand in hers. ‘I’m very glad we met.’
‘So am I,’ Dana said, and to her surprise she really meant it.
Dana watched Jeff and Rachel start down the street. A striking couple, she thought.
Because it was early December, Washington was preparing for the holiday season. The streets of the capital were decorated with Christmas lights and wreaths of holly, and on almost every corner Salvation Army Santa Clauses stood, tolling their bells for coins. The sidewalks were crowded with shoppers braving the icy winds.
The time has come, Dana thought. I have to get started with my own shopping. Dana thought about the people for whom she should buy gifts. Her mother; Kemal; Matt, her boss; and, of course, wonderful Jeff. Dana jumped in a cab and headed for Hecht’s, one of Washington’s largest department stores. The place was jammed with people celebrating the Christmas spirit by rudely elbowing other shoppers out of the way.
When Dana finished shopping, she headed back to her apartment to drop off her gifts. The apartment was on Calvert Street, in a quiet residential section. Attractively furnished, it consisted of one bedroom, a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a study, where Kemal slept.
Dana put the gifts in a closet, looked around the small apartment, and thought happily, We’ll have to get a larger place when Jeff and I get married. As she headed for the door to return to the studio, the telephone rang. Murphy’s law. Dana picked up the phone. ‘Hello.’
‘Dana, darling.’
It was her mother. ‘Hello, Mother. I was just leav –’
‘My friends and I listened to your broadcast last night. You were very good.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Although we thought you could have brightened up the news a bit.’
Dana sighed. ‘Brightened up the news?’
‘Yes. All the things you talk about are so depressing. Can’t you find something cheerful to discuss?’
‘I’ll certainly see what I can do, Mother.’
‘That would be nice. By the way, I’m running just a little short of cash this month. I wonder if you could help me out again?’
Dana’s father had disappeared years ago. In time, Dana’s mother had moved to Las Vegas. It seemed that she was always short of cash. The monthly allowance Dana gave her mother never seemed to be enough.
‘Do you gamble, Mother?’
‘Of course not,’ Mrs Evans said indignantly. ‘Las Vegas is a very expensive city. By the way, when are you going to come out here? I would like to meet Kimbal. You should bring him here.’
‘His name is Kemal, Mother. I can’t get away right now.’
There was a slight hesitation at the other end. ‘You can’t? My friends are all saying how fortunate you are to have a job where you only have to work an hour or two a day.’
Dana said, ‘I guess I’m just lucky.’
As anchorwoman, Dana arrived at the television studio at nine o’clock every morning and spent much of the day on international conference calls, getting the latest news from London, Paris, Italy, and other foreign locations. The rest of the day was devoted to meetings, putting all the news together, and deciding what would be broadcast and in what order when she went on the air. She did two evening broadcasts.
‘It’s nice that you have such an easy job, darling.’
‘Thank you, Mother.’
‘You’ll come and see me soon, won’t you?’
‘Yes, I will.’
‘I can’t wait to meet that darling little boy.’
It will be good for Kemal to meet her, too, Dana thought. He’ll have a grandmother. And when Jeff and I are married, Kemal will have a real family again.
As Dana stepped out into the corridor of her apartment building, Mrs Wharton appeared.
‘I want to thank you for taking care of Kemal the other morning, Dorothy. I really appreciate it.’
‘It was my pleasure.’
Dorothy Wharton and her husband, Howard, had moved into the building a year ago. They were Canadians, a delightful middle-aged couple. Howard Wharton was an engineer who repaired monuments.
As he had explained to Dana at dinner one night, ‘There’s no better city in the world than Washington for my kind of work. Where else could I find opportunities like this?’ And he answered his own question. ‘Nowhere.’
‘Howard and I both love Washington,’ Mrs Wharton confided. ‘We’re never going to leave.’
When Dana got back to her office, the latest edition of the Washington Tribune was on her desk. The front page was filled with stories and photographs of the Winthrop family. Dana looked at the photographs for a long time, her mind racing. Five of them all dead in less than a year. Incredible.
The call was made to a private phone in the executive tower of Washington Tribune Enterprises.
‘I just got the instructions.’
‘Good. They’ve been waiting. What do you want them to do with the paintings?’
‘Burn them.’
‘All of them? They’re worth millions of dollars.’
‘Everything’s gone perfectly.