Chapter 5: Payment Thirty-Seven

I didn't sleep, and at seven I came down to breakfast with the coffee tin in my bag.

Marguerite was already at the long table in the sunroom with a pot of tea and a folder of papers.

"Stevie, dear. You came in late last night. Did Warner's friends wear you out?"

"A little."

"They're tiresome," she said, and poured me a cup. "I told Warner so. He'll apologize."

She sounded exactly like a mother who was on my side.

I sat down across from her and held the cup in both hands so she couldn't see them shake.

The card in my bag said my mother and I were never to know.

If I put it on the table now, she would only take it back and burn it.

So I smiled at her and drank my tea.

"I wanted to ask you something," I said. "About the foundation. Does it keep records on families it has helped?"

"Of course. Ledgers going back to my husband's time."

"My father's diner got a bank loan once. I think the paperwork never went anywhere."

I made myself add one more line.

"Could I look, so my mother's mind is at rest?"

It was a small lie, and it came out smooth.

Marguerite studied me for a moment over the rim of her cup.

"How thoughtful you are," she said. "Come to the office. I have a call at eight, but you can look."

The family office was the first floor of a stone building behind the house, with a brass plate on the door.

A woman at the front desk smiled at me.

Marguerite's room was at the back.

It had a rug the color of cream, a very large desk, and a wall of green ledgers in a glass case.

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