Chapter 6: The Ribbon

"Where did you find it?" I said.

"Behind the false back of the safe, under the pearls." Alec turned the drive in the moonlight. "Victor never knew it was there."

"My father put it there?"

"Somebody did, and the writing says it was him."

I read the two lines of blue ink.

The first said, Touring accounts, Marlowe, last two seasons.

The second said, If I'm wrong, burn it. If I'm right, give it to Portia.

I put my hand over my mouth.

Alec did not touch me or say he was sorry.

He just stood there while I got my breath, and I was grateful to him for that.

"Then he hid it in Victor's safe," I whispered. "Why would he put it there?"

"A man who works in a theater for fifteen years learns where the keys hang and where the guards sleep," he said.

"Maybe he knew Victor would never look in his own safe."

"And Victor killed him for it."

"I don't know that yet."

"I do."

"You don't," he said, and the calm in his voice made me look at him.

"You know it's possible."

"You'll know it when we read the drive."

"Then give it to me."

"Not tonight. Someone saw you break that glass, and somebody is already looking for a thief."

"He wrote my name on it."

"I know."

I held out my hand.

Alec looked at it for a very long time.

Then he put the drive in the pocket of his waiter's jacket and zipped it shut.

"After the dress rehearsal," he said. "I'll copy it, and you'll have your own."

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