“Thank you, Valerie; that was lovely.”

  “I have some other pieces to play for you when you want,” Hannah offered.

  “Great! I have something to show you; you weren’t the only one who gave me a thimble …”

  Francine towed her to a table upon which the gifts were piled; she noticed that hers was already buried.

  “Look! It’s glass, and has the most exquisite little rose encased in it; apparently it was once owned by Marie-Antoinette …”

  Hannah cooed as required, and immediately felt the two pairs of eyes of the givers; they were milking it for everything it had to offer.

  “It’s beautiful!” exclaimed Hannah.

  Francine was called away. Hannah scanned the room for the couple. She found a mature pair of hawkish social grandees; older by ten years than the average guest; clearly solid wealth - apparently built on shipping she later discovered - and residents of The Broadway.

  “Bingo!” said Hannah to herself as she inched in their direction, hoping to get introduced.

  “Valerie!” It was Francine. “Let me introduce you to Loretta and David Colton.”

  “Hello,” Hannah offered a little shyly.

  “My dear, you play beautifully; I did too in my youth. Let’s spice this up with a duet of our own, shall we?”

  Loretta Colton needed no encouragement to display her talents; David just looked on proudly.

  “Ragtime; that’ll get the heels tapping,” she suggested.

  She and Hannah banged it out, and it was evident that the woman could play; the applause was suitably appreciative.

  “I have a party in a week; please come and play for us,” she said to Hannah.

  “I’d be delighted but only if you promise to play another duet.”

  Loretta tittered, and then got waylaid by several of the other women, leaving Hannah alone momentarily. David appeared at her elbow.

  “Excuse Loretta; she is very energetic at times.”

  Hannah turned to address him.

  “Oh, not at all; she does play very well.”

  “She had a very promising career ahead of her but gave it all up to be my wife.”

  “How long have you been married?” Hannah asked politely.

  “Twenty-five years this year - sadly no children,” he added wistfully, and Hannah assumed the “fault” lay with Loretta.

  “Gosh; that’s nearly as old as me!” Hannah exclaimed.

  “Are you planning to stay in the city long?” David asked, and Hannah recognized the tone - all frisky goat albeit tempered.

  “A couple of months, maybe longer; depends on work.”

  “You teach the piano?”

  “Yes, and I translate legal documents into French, Spanish and German.”

  “My! Such hidden talents. I may have some work for you in that line; I’ll speak to you more at the party next week.”

  “Okay; that’ll be super,” said Hannah, smiling sweetly; then becoming aware of Loretta’s diamond-cut, laser-guided pupils on her back, she realized that she knew the score of this tune all too well.

  The party proceeded as most do. Hannah played again, and played “Happy Birthday” as the cake with the forty candles was brought out. Francine blew them all out in three goes and after that things drifted and people started to leave. Hannah wasn’t sure when she should make her escape. At that precise second, Francine cornered her.

  “Let me show you the collection,” she said with an undertone that Hannah translated as ‘we need to talk’.

  They ascended two flights of stairs and found themselves on a broad landing, which was lined with display cases. Each case was literally stuffed with thimbles.

  “It has taken years and years,” said Francine, and Hannah was impressed for there were hundreds.

  “Why thimbles?” Hannah asked.

  “Oh; I don’t know. They’re perfect, aren’t they? So decorative and so useful … David has a reputation …”

  There it was.

  “He says he might have some work for me.”

  “Yes … just be careful to keep the relationship on a strictly business footing, for Loretta’s sake and your own; he is not, how shall we say it, considerate of the young woman’s feelings.”

  “Or Loretta’s for that matter,” added Hannah, hoping to signal she wasn’t as green as she was cabbage looking.

  “Quite … I think I’ll put yours here,” she said, pointing to a space in the third cabinet.

  “And Loretta’s?” asked Hannah.

  “Oh; here,” Francine replied, pointing to a completely empty shelf, “it’s been waiting for a very long time.”

  They descended, and Loretta caught a glance as they did and there was a kind of nod between her and Francine. To Hannah, the cost of the gift - David had deliberately slipped that it was fifty thousand dollars - suddenly seemed like a small price to pay for someone like Francine to watch your back.

  “I’ll be off then,” announced Hannah, “thank you so much for inviting me.”

  “Not at all, and Dominic so looks forward to his lessons. We’ll see you at Loretta’s next week by all accounts.”

  Hannah paid her respects to Loretta and David, and left with the invitation tucked in her purse … and a whole load to think about!

  Chapter Three – Loretta’s bash

  Hannah practiced really hard for the party, and researched the Colton’s as deeply as she could, even spying on the house in The Broadway, which was magnificent.

  The Colton’s were not collectors; not of art anyway, not seriously, but nevertheless patrons, and always at the top of the donations’ lists. It was Loretta’s money and not David’s. She had inherited the shipping money and, as a lonely, barren heiress, had looked for adventure and had found David. He was dangerously handsome, confident, stylish and as poor as a church mouse. They had married without a prenuptial agreement so Hannah was pretty sure that Loretta forgave all sorts of indiscretions just to keep out of the divorce court and avoid the risk of losing any of her three hundred millions. David had worked and still worked for one of the companies but in a role where he could do the least amount of damage and earn the highest salary to fund his excesses, which Loretta neither wished to know about or meet in the street.

  Hannah wondered if they had anything of real importance to steal at all. She couldn’t wait for the party and the chance to have a nose about. It came round quickly enough and suddenly she was ringing at their bell. A butler-style person answered and showed her in. She was immediately nabbed by Loretta.

  “Valerie! So pleased you were able to come; I hope you’ve been practicing.”

  “Oh yes; very hard. I didn’t want to let you down.”

  “Sweet child.” and with that Hannah was fairly well catapulted into the fray and within fifteen minutes was dueting with Loretta, who seemed a trifle high - a self-medicating manic depressive was Hannah’s conclusion, and overdoing the uppers this evening. She was released after twenty minutes to get a drink and mingle. She sought out Francine and Charles to say hello, who showed less than the expected enthusiasm. Brushed off, she found David.

  “Ah! Valerie; good to see you. Remember I said that I might I have some work for you; I do. Drop by the office on Tuesday at eleven and I’ll run it by you.” He handed her his business card.

  “Thank you! That is extraordinarily kind,” she returned, feeling the tell-tale stabs in her back, which she ignored, seeing as she had been brushed off for no apparent reason … or perhaps the work had already been discussed and it heralded potential trouble.

  Hannah mingled, wishing she knew a reliable man so that she could have brought a partner. Scanning everywhere open to view, she saw nothing except modern and tasteless art that was worthless; her mind wandered back to Francine’s thimble, as a potential consolation prize.

  “Valerie!”

  It was Loretta.

  “Come with me; I simply must show you something …”

  Those magic words that Hannah reco
gnized in seven languages. She was towed to one of the upper floors.

  “I simply have to show you this; it’s a wreck at the moment but after restoration it will be so pretty …”

  In a room off of the corridor was a harpsichord, a very old harpsichord that was in dire need of restoration but the instrument was unequalled in its provenance.

  “One of perhaps only two or three that are accredited to Zenti, made in 1666. This one is called the Nightingale. Sit; play!” urged Loretta, and Hannah sat and practiced her scales before picking out Clair du Lune.

  “Exquisite!” Loretta added ecstatically.

  “Who is doing the restoration?” Hannah asked.

  “Fitzwilliam’s; the finest in the country. I would send it back to Italy but that seems unpatriotic … as if it wasn’t costing enough already.”

  “Fitzwilliam’s has a world class reputation,” added Hannah, not wishing to see the piece disappear to Europe anytime soon!

  “When it is restored, we will host a gala evening and raise money for Feeding America.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “Three months at least.”

  “Oh; I may have returned to England by then; it depends on this work of David’s and how the teaching goes.”

  “Let’s hope both keep you here until after the gala.” But Hannah was pretty sure that Loretta didn’t actually give a damn if they did. “When are you meeting David?”

  “Tuesday.”

  “Meet me for lunch afterwards, won’t you?”

  “Oh, really? That would be lovely …”

  They descended, and Hannah knew the lunch invitation was deliberate so that David couldn’t monopolize her or whatever it was that he was planning to do.

  Hannah was again abandoned, and she toyed with disappearing but it had only been an hour so that felt rude although she had played. She played again, by herself; something familiar and not too loud, just to keep herself from getting bored and, after half an hour, she decided it was time to go. She sought out her hosts to thank them and to say goodbye; they were in the hall bidding farewell to someone else.

  “Thank you for inviting me and for showing me the harpsichord,” Hannah said very politely.

  “Not at all, Valerie, and we’ll see you on Tuesday. David promises to be through with you by twelve-thirty so that we can have lunch.”

  David said nothing and just smiled. Hannah knew that smile, the “fifteen-all” smile of combatant couples.

  “Goodbye!” she said, and left, choosing to walk the relatively short distance back to the apartment which cleared her head. A plan began to emerge.

  “A world class if not a world renowned harpsichord …” Hannah mused.

  Unlike Stradivarius’ violins, which perhaps most people would have heard of, most would probably not have heard of Zenti and his fabled instrument the Nightingale. Hannah had but then she knew a good deal more about most things than most people. “A cunning switch, after the restoration; no point stealing a wreck and incurring the costs of doing it up; I need a similar instrument … and a date with Fitzwilliam’s!”

  On the Monday, she found a battered old harpsichord that was roughly the same shape as Loretta’s. It was allegedly very old, perhaps Flemish and even from the studio of Couchet, but this was unimportant. She called Fitzwilliam’s and discussed the project.

  “We would be delighted to undertake the project, Frau Bohm; of course we shall need to see it before we can estimate how long the work will take or indeed, how much it will cost.”

  “Naturally, Jonas; I would like it painted in the style of the Nightingale…” Hannah was already on the inside track. “I’ll have it delivered to you and then come in to discuss the restoration but it simply has to be ready in two months.”

  “I’m sure we can accommodate that,” Jonas assured her, and Hannah was pretty sure that for a price, they could accommodate anything.

  The party at Loretta’s hadn’t been a waste of time at all and this work for David could be interesting. Regular contact with the Colton’s would be essential if the switch was going to be effected - again a decoy and again timing had to be perfect; not only that, but her disguise as Loretta Colton would also need to be flawless!

  Chapter Four – David’s offer of work and lunch

  Hannah dressed very smartly although plainly, and headed to David’s office in Battery Street for the appointment at eleven o’clock on the Tuesday. She announced herself, and within five minutes, his secretary came to collect her from reception. The woman was older and in the “battle axe” category, so Hannah guessed that Loretta must have had a hand in her selection.

  “Please wait here, Ms. Bishop, and Mr. Colton will see you shortly,” she said and parked Hannah in another reception-style area, and disappeared behind some frosted glass. Five minutes later, David appeared.

  “Valerie! So good to see you; come in, won’t you?”

  She entered his office, which looked like a play den, and he instantly offered her a drink.

  “Just tea, please,” she said, refusing the scotch.

  The order for tea was placed and David motioned to Hannah to sit down at the small conference table which afforded views of Telegraph Hill.

  “Was it translation work you had in mind, David?” Hannah asked, seizing the initiative.

  “Yes, it was; I have a contract dispute with a business in Europe and the damn lawyers are taking an age to translate the original contracts; I was hoping you could do the job …”

  “What language are the contracts written in?”

  “German; this was twenty years ago. Everything was fine until some problem arose and then they started referring back to these damn papers which no one could find, or read when they did. I’m sure it’s a ploy to avoid some costs that will fall to them.”

  “I’ll do my best; it would help if you could tell me what the contract is for.”

  “Various consultancy and advisory services over a number of engineering projects.”

  “Basically a tax swindle then?” Hannah said with pluck, and David erupted with laughter.

  “Creative accounting, yes,” he managed eventually.

  “If you can let me have a copy, I’ll get started straight away. When do you want them by?”

  “Two weeks?”

  “That should be fine. I have no idea how much to charge you,” Hannah offered innocently.

  “There are two contracts; let’s say a thousand dollars each, shall we?”

  “Okay … Why haven’t you employed a translator before now?”

  “Well, here’s the thing; it was in our favour to let this drag until now but the game has changed and now we need to be absolutely sure about what the contracts say and where the liability falls; if it falls to us then the costs are ghastly and-”

  “Your arse will be on the line …”

  “I might even have to resign.”

  “Then the sooner I start, the better.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t speak to Loretta about this in detail; as far as she is concerned, it’s a simple translation job. I don’t want to upset her.” David’s look suggested it might just be the straw that broke the camel’s back and divorce would be next.

  “You can rely on my absolute discretion, David,” Hannah stated solidly.

  “I knew I could,” he replied as he handed over an envelope that contained the contracts.

  “Let’s meet in a week and discuss progress, shall we?”

  “Okay; I’ll aim to have one ready by then.”

  “Good. So; lunch with Loretta now; excellent!”

  Without forewarning or ceremony, Loretta walked in.

  “Loretta!” exclaimed David like the dutiful husband.

  “Hello, Loretta,” said Hannah, smiling.

  “Business done? Shall we, Valerie?”

  “Yes,” Hannah replied, and watched as Loretta planted a cold little kiss on David’s cheek. As Hannah turned to leave, she bid David farewell, “See you soon, David.?
??

  “Goodbye, Valerie; any problems just call.”

  The women left, and it was only after they had vacated the building that Loretta actually spoke.

  “I’ve invited Francine to join us; I hope you don’t mind,” she said as they headed to the car waiting at the curbside.

  “Not at all …” said Hannah, and she ticked off another correct prediction.

  The car took them to a smart little Italian restaurant on Lombard Street where Francine was waiting.

  “Valerie!” she said with an almost maternal smile on her lips.

  “Francine; so nice to see you.”

  “How did it go with David?”

  “Fine,” she replied bluntly but politely and as a way of diverting attention she added, “I wondered if Dominic would be willing to play at the gala, which Loretta has suggested would be the perfect way to unveil the harpsichord after its restoration.”

  “I’m sure he’d be thrilled, especially if you tutor him; he likes you very much.”

  “He’s a sweet boy …”

  “It’s a lovely idea, Valerie; the young man needs to build his confidence and extend his repertoire,” said Loretta.

  Lunch proceeded, and Hannah used the opportunity to study Loretta very closely.

  “When is the Nightingale being moved to Fitzwilliam’s, Loretta?”

  “On Thursday; three months they say for sure, now that someone else has delivered a harpsichord for restoration. I said to Jonas, ‘I was first and the Nightingale is an important instrument’…”

  “I’m sure they won’t let you down, Loretta, especially if they know the gala is planned,” said Hannah

  “They had better not!” Loretta replied hotly.

  Lunch for Hannah was a tasteless affair; the other two women were mindful of her for the sake of appearances and nothing confidential was discussed, just mindless tittle-tattle, and Hannah excused herself before they had all finished, citing that she needed to get ready for a lesson.

  “See you soon,” they cooed, and Hannah suddenly found herself outside of the inner wheel. She cared little because she wanted to read the contracts and find out just how far up to his neck David was and how that might profit her in the end.

  Chapter Five – The contracts and the appointment at Fitzwilliam’s

  In the quiet solitude of the apartment, she read the contracts and dictated the translation for typing up later. After three hours, she had them translated and, more importantly, dissected.