ease to ask what the morrow will bring forth, and set down as gain each day that Fortune grants.

HORACE

"I still think there's something fishy going on," Alexander muttered, pacing the floor of Paula's office at the London store.

"So do I," she agreed, her eyes following him as he progressed up and down between the fireplace and her desk. "But having suspicions is simply not good enough. We need concrete evidence of some kind before we can make a move against Jonathan. And Sarah, perhaps. I'm still not certain whether she is being treacherous or not."

"Neither am I. But we do need to get the goods on him, you're quite right. Until then our hands are tied." Alexander rubbed his chin, his expression thoughtful. He came to a stop in front of Paula's desk and leveled his gaze at her. "My gut instinct tells me that it's going to hit me in the face one day very soon." He shook his head.

"And to borrow a phrase of Grandy's, I don't like unpleasant surprises."

"Who does?" Paula sighed, her worry growing more acute. She knew Alexander was the most conservative of men and not prone to exaggeration or flights of fancy. Besides, their grandmother had been convinced of Jonathan Ainsley's duplicity until the day of her death five weeks ago. But like them, Emma had not had the proof. Settling back in her chair, Paula said, "Whatever it is that he's doing, he's obviously been very clever about it, since the accountants haven't found anything wrong after checking the books."

"Naturally he is, and you know he's always been bloody devious. He.doesn't let his right hand know what his left is doing, for God's sake. He hasn't changed much over the years." Alexander gave her a pained look. "Don Littleton thinks I'm stark raving mad. If I've had him go over the books once, I've had him do it a dozen times." Alexander lifted his shoulder in a helpless shrug. "Don and two of the other accountants with his firm put the real estate division under a microscope. There's nothing untoward—not one single thing that seems suspicious. At least, not as far as money matters are concerned.'

Paula leaned forward, rested her elbows on her desk, propped her chin in her hands. "He wouldn't be stupid enough to steal, Sandy, and he's smart. He'd cover his tracks wherever they led. I wish we could think of some way to lure him out into the open, get him to show his hand..." Her sentence remained unfinished as she considered this idea, racked her brains for likely possibilities.

Her brother Philip, who sat on the sofa at the other side of the room, had been listening intently for the last fifteen minutes. Finally breaking his silence, he said, 'The only way you'll ever trap our dear cousin is to set him up as a target."

Alexander pivoted on his heels. "How?" he asked.

Philip rose and strolled over to join them. Of all of Emma's grandsons, Philip McGill Amory was the most handsome. He was the spitting image of his grandfather and had the McGill coloring that his mother and his sister had inherited. His hair was the same glossy black, his eyes that uncanny blue which bordered on deep violet, and he was as tall, virile, and dashing as Paul McGill had been. Although only twenty-four, Philip also happened to be the shrewdest of Emma's grandsons, since he had been blessed with Paul's extraordinary business acumen and financial genius, as well as a great deal-of his grandmother's not inconsiderable brilliance. He had been diligently trained by Emma since the age of seventeen and, after taking over the vast McGill empire in Australia, he had proved himself to be worthy of her trust many times over. He was known as a man to be reckoned with, and one who had a wisdom beyond his years.

Drawing to a stop next to Alexander, he put his hand on his cousin's shoulder and said, "I'll tell you how in a minute, Sandy." Lowering himself into one of the chairs facing his sister, he remarked, "That detective Gran hired—Graves— hasn't been able to dig up a thing on Jonathan. However, I still believe that it's very probable he has his own company— one that is being run by straw men, and—" ' "Don't think I've dismissed that possibility," Alexander fiercely interrupted, "because I haven't."

Philip nodded. "Okay, so let's start with the assumption that he does indeed have a real estate company, and that he's been funneling deals into it—big deals that by rights should be going to Harte Enterprises. That in itself is enough to hang him." Philip sat forward urgently, looked first at his sister and then at Alexander. "I propose that we put the noose around his neck. And I'll tell you how. It's very simple, really. We have to get someone to present a deal to Jonathan as head of the real estate division of Harte Enterprises. Now, here's the twist... we have to make the deal so attractive, so juicy, he won't be able to resist putting it through his own company. Naturally it must be extremely appealing, and so very big, so tempting, his greed will far outweigh his judgment. If the stakes for himself are high enough he'll act rashly, believe me, he will."

Sitting back, Philip crossed his long legs, glanced from Alexander to Paula and back to Alexander. "Well, what do you say?"

Alexander now sat down heavily in the other chair, nodded slowly. "I must admit, it's a smart ploy, and I'll go along with it, providing you can answer a couple of questions."

"Shoot."

"Philip, let's be practical, where the hell are we going to find this tempting deal to dangle like a carrot in front of Jonathan? That's for openers, and, second, who are we going to get to offer it to him?" Alexander smiled narrowly. "Let's not underestimate our wily cousin... he'll spot the holes immediately."

"Ah, but there won't be any," Philip replied evenly. "I have someone who can offer the deal to Jonathan, a close friend who has his own real estate company here in London. So that answers your first question. As far as the deal itself is concerned, I believe my friend may have something up his sleeve that would be most appropriate, and tempting. All I need is your approval, and then I'll talk to him."

"I suppose it's worth having a go," Alexander said, fully aware of'Philip's inbred shrewdness and discretion. He turned to Paula. "What do you think?"

Paula said, "I'm all for it, if you are, Sandy." She eyed her brother. "What's the name of your friend?"

"Malcolm Perring. Surely you remember old Malcolm—we were at Wellington together."

"Vaguely. I think you introduced us once, when I came down to visit you at half term."

"I did. Anyway, he and I remained relatively close friends

after we left school, and he was out in Australia for a year and—"

"Jonathan's bound to smell a rat," Paula said sharply. "You and Malcolm were at the same public school, then he was in Australia. Jonathan'll put two and two together."

"I doubt it," Philip said, sounding assured and confident. "Malcolm's been back here for a couple of years. He inherited his brother's real estate company after that poor chap dropped dead of a'heart attack at thirty-nine. Besides, Jonathan's not going to ask a lot of personal questions, and Malcolm can be adroit and evasive, believe me, he can."

"I trust you. I know you wouldn't embroil somebody in our affairs whom you couldn't rely on to be absolutely discreet. And you will have to take him into your confidence," Paula remarked.

"Obviously. But Malcolm is reliable... true blue, Paula." Philip chuckled. "I'm sure he has -a deal that is ready to go—Perring and Perring is a huge company—and wouldn't it be ironic if we were able to kill two birds with one stone? Catch Jonathan red-handed and do a bit of smart business for Harte Enterprises at the same time."

Alexander began to laugh dryly, tickled at the idea. "Oh, how Grandy would love this!"

Paula half-smiled. "Perhaps we should go ahead, then, Philip, since Alexander is all for it. And actually it must be his decision—as managing director of Harte Enterprises."

Alexander exclaimed, "We don't have anything to lose, and, very frankly, I'm relieved we're taking aggressive action. This sitting around waiting for Jonathan Ainsley to tip his hand is most frustrating. I feel we must force him out in the open, if we can."

"I shall talk to Malcolm first thing tomorrow morning." Philip glanced at his watch. "If we're going to grab a bite of lunch before we go to John Crawford's office, I think we ought to leave. It's eleven-thirty. We have to be at John's at two-thirty, don't we, Paula?"

"Yes." She stood up, brushed a piece of lint off her black dress. "I'm not looking forward to this afternoon," she began and stopped. Her upper lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. She glanced away quickly. After a moment she managed to compose herself, and she smiled weakly at the two men.

"I'm so sorry," she said. '-That happens when I least expect it. I think of Gran and just choke up. I can't get used to her not being here. It's just awful, such a gap in my life... all of our lives, I suppose."

"Yes," Philip agreed. "Alexander and I feel the same way as you do. In fact, we were discussing it last night at dinner. It's hard to realize that she's not going to suddenly swoop down on us with a bit of unorthodox but frighteningly clever advice, or make one of those blunt or pithy comments of hers."

Philip walked around the desk and took hold of Paula's shoulders gently, looked down into her white face. "The reading of the will is going to be dreadfully upsetting, Paula, because it emphasizes the reality of her death. But you must be there... we all must." He attempted a bit of levity as he finished, "Grandy will be mad at us if we're not."

Paula nodded, smiling faintly at his remark, knowing he wanted to cheer her up. Her sadness did ease slightly. "I'll tell you one thing—it gets my goat when I think of the leeches who are going to be present later." She sighed. "Ah well, there we are, nothing we can do about it, and my apologies to the two of you again. I think the less said about this afternoon the better. Now, come on, let's go to lunch. Emily's joining us—I've booked a table at the Ritz."

"The Ritz!" Philip exclaimed in surprise. "A bit fancy, isn't it, for a quick snack?"

She tucked her arm through her brother's, glanced up at him and then across at Alexander, a hint of genuine gaiety surfacing. "Not really. It was one of Grandy's favorite places. And I chose it because it has such happy associations for the four of us... all those lovely treats she used to give us there when we were children." Paula laughed, now addressed her brother. "Besides, you and I might not be here if Emma and Paul hadn't indulged in a bit of romantic dallying at the Ritz over sixty years ago!"

"Correct," Philip answered with a laugh. "And in that case I think lunch had better be on Paul McGill! Consider this my treat."

"Jolly decent of you," Alexander said as they left Paula's office and went out to the staif elevator. Alexander engaged Philip in a few seconds of conversation about his friend Malcolm Perring'as they rode down. Satisfied with Philip's answers, confident that his cousin had selected the right man to help them comer Jonathan, he asked, "By the way, how long are we going to have the pleasure of your company?"

"I'll be here until the end of October, when I'm apparently going to Texas with Paula. So she told me before you arrived. Sitex business. From there, it's back to Sydney for a few weeks, and then I'm coming home again—for Christmas."

"Oh!" Paula exclaimed. "You didn't tell me."

"I only just decided at breakfast this morning. I haven't had a chance to mention it. Mum's so done in at the moment, I think I ought to be here. It'll cheer her up. I've also agreed to go to Chamonix with them in January, and of course they're both delighted about that."

"And so am I—this is great news." Alexander beamed. "Maggie and I have been invited to join Auntie Daisy and Uncle David." He shot Paula a quick glance. "Are you going to change your mind, now that Philip's coming along?"

"No. When / take a vacation I want to lie in the hot sun and bake myself to a crisp dark brown. The ski slopes have never appealed to me, as you both well know. Also, I have to be in New York in January. We're doing a big promotion of French and Italian couture fashions at the store, and I'm opening the Total Woman Shop at our Fifth Avenue branch then." She gave them a wicked grin as they stepped out of the elevator. "Somebody has to work in this family."

Laughing, they bustled her outside into Knightsbridge and into a taxicab and,headed for the Ritz Hotel.

Emily was already waiting for them at a table in the restaurant. Elegant in a black suit, which was most flattering and showed off her blond beauty to perfection, she nevertheless wore a mournful expression. Her green eyes were wistful as her cousins and brother sat down with her. "I'll be glad when today's over," she muttered to Alexander. "The thought of hearing the will is so depressing."

Alexander said, "Come on, Emily lovey, cheer up. Philip and I have just been through the same recital with Paula." He squeezed her arm. "Grandy wouldn't approve. In fact, she'd be bloody furious if she could see us sitting around moping. Remember what she used to say?"

"Which particular thing?" Emily asked pensively.

"The remark she often made when we'd had some sort of failure or disappointment. She usually told us to forget yesterday, think of tomorrow, and keep forging ahead without looking back. Don't you think that's what we should do, especially today?"

"Yes," Emily admitted, giving her brother a more cheerful smile.

"Good girl," Alexander said.

Philip said, "I'm going to order a bottle of champagne and we're going to drink to the memory of that remarkable woman who gave us life, taught us everything we know, and made us what we are."

He motioned to the wine waiter.

After Philip had ordered a bottle of Dom Perignon, and whilst they waited for it to be brought to the table, Paula leaned closer to Emily. She whispered, "Philip has had a clever idea, thought of a way to possibly flush Jonathan out into the open. Once we've toasted Grandy, he'll tell you about it."

"I can't wait," Emily exclaimed. Her glistening green eyes narrowed with sudden shrewdness as she contemplated Jonathan's downfall "Now that would be a fitting tribute to Gran—if we can uncover his treachery to her and deal with him as she would have done."