The Good Twin(56)

Two hours later, with no success, I took a break and called Detective Saldinger. “Mallory told me that Ben’s plan, after I’m dead, is to go with her to the attorney who drew up our prenuptial agreement and have it voided. When that’s done, they’ll wait for Dad’s estate to be settled, divvy up the proceeds, and then she’ll split. At least, that’s Ben’s timeline, according to Mallory.”

“It won’t get that far. We’ll arrest him as soon as we grab the hit man.”

Much as I wanted this to be over as quickly as possible, I also wanted to ensure that Ben would have no possibility of squirming out of a long prison sentence. I had friends who worked as criminal defense attorneys, and I’d seen them spin straw into gold. “Would it be a stronger case, or a longer sentence, if you could prove he was doing this to rob me of billions?”

“Are you serious—billions?”

“My father is very wealthy.”

“We have a solid case against your husband right now. However, being able to demonstrate that the reason he didn’t just ask for a divorce, that his goal was to get his hands on a massive amount of money, can certainly make our case bulletproof. But, Charly, that’s going to stretch this out for you a long time. You’d need to disappear until your father’s estate is settled. Probating a will in New York can take six months. Even longer when there are a lot of assets.”

“No. All his assets are in a trust. Other than some charitable bequests, I’m pretty sure it goes to me immediately upon his death. I just need to make sure Ben knows that.”

“If you’re certain you can deal with this taking longer, then that’s what we’ll do. But anytime it becomes too much for you, call me. We can always go back to the original plan.”

“Thank you, Detective Saldinger. I think I’ll be okay. Having a sister, being able to talk to her, has made me stronger.”

“Just be careful,” the detective said, his voice low. “The odds are that your sister is telling the truth. But it’s also possible this was her plan all along, and after Ben’s out of the picture, she’ll bump you off herself, and keep everything. Then go on living as Charlotte Gordon.”

My body slumped down in the chair. The warmth I’d begun to feel toward Mallory was now tied up in a Gordian knot. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t want to think. I hung up with the detective, and began, once again, making rote phone calls to every Harris in Allentown, Pennsylvania. If I was going to lose my father, then lose my sister, I wanted as much family with me as I could find.





CHAPTER 39

The temperature was below freezing, but that didn’t stop me from jogging outside. I belonged to a gym, and often went there when the weather was this cold, but I needed the brisk air to clear my head. I dressed in my running tights, then layered up, ending with a fleece jacket. I grabbed a wool hat, put on my gloves, and headed outside. Although it was cold, I knew once I began to jog, my body would warm up. I headed toward Central Park, then entered it at East Sixtieth Street. There was a five-and-a-half-mile route I followed, always in the company of myriad other joggers, bicyclists, and in-line skaters, all taking advantage of a respite from the city’s fumes. By the time I approached the park, I was in a steady rhythm. When I reached that state, my body was on autopilot, and I usually could then work out any problems that worried me. Today it was my sister.

I didn’t know what to make of Detective Saldinger’s warning. I wanted so much to trust Mallory, to believe she’d come forward to stop Ben, but was I fooling myself? Forty minutes later, when I entered my townhouse at the end of my run, I still didn’t know the answer.

I showered and changed for work, and arrived there an hour later. I’d barely taken my coat off when Mallory called.

“I found them,” she said. “I found our grandparents.”

“What did they say?” I could hear the lack of warmth in my voice. After Detective Saldinger’s speculation about my sister’s motives, I didn’t know what to think. She was my identical twin, I kept telling myself. We shared the same DNA. Then, I reasoned, how could she even consider killing me now that we’d reconnected, now that she knew me? Before, I was just an abstract concept to her. But after spending months studying me, she had to know how much alike we were. Since I couldn’t conceive of such a betrayal myself, then certainly she couldn’t. Then, I would remind myself that by her own admission, she’d agreed to participate in a murder, in my murder. If she could do that, wasn’t she capable of anything? I didn’t know the answer. I only knew I had to protect myself.

“They didn’t say anything. I panicked.”

“What do you mean?

“It was a woman who answered. I asked if she had a son named John who was killed in the Gulf War, and when she said, ‘Yes,’ I hung up.”

I burst out laughing. “Those poor people. What must they be thinking?”

“I thought maybe you could call them, explain who we are?”

“Give me their number.”

I wrote it down, then quickly got off the phone. There was another call I needed to make that had more urgency. I dialed the number for my attorney, Steve Goldfarb, and made an appointment to see him that afternoon. Then I called Gertrude Harris, the woman Mallory had hung up on. She answered on the third ring.