Free A Proposal to Die For by Vivian Conroy

Do nothing. Don’t pay. Blackmail never ends. And in this case there is little to deny or set straight. No incriminating correspondence to get back. Your father might be angry when he learns you bought his buttons in the company of a convict, but there is not much he can do about it. I suppose he won’t disinherit you?’
    Alkmene laughed. ‘I am his only daughter. Where else would he leave his money?’ She frowned a moment. ‘My father isn’t very attached to his money, I guess, but I doubt he would leave it to anyonewho is not related to him. He does have that much sense of family. He hopes I will marry and…’
    She fell silent. Her father’s frequent journeys didn’t just mean freedom to do her own thing, but also freedom from his endless suggestions on whom she could marry. He always seemed to think of somebody new. Somebody equally abhorrent to her mind.
    Dubois made another dismissive gesture. ‘It is none of my business. Just don’t pay anything.’
    â€˜I was almost tempted to put an empty hat box in the place indicated and watch who will come and get it. Then we have our blackmailer.’ She couldn’t keep the triumphant note out of her voice.
    Dubois shook his head. ‘Not likely. He will send another messenger like the one who delivered this letter to your home. He won’t come in person. He won’t show his face anywhere where he can be seen and captured.’
    Alkmene nodded. ‘Probably not. He is the king of this criminal capital, right, and he wants to stay in that position.’
    Dubois gave her a hard stare. ‘So meek and understanding of my point of view? You won’t do anything foolish on your own, will you?’
    Alkmene shrugged. She dragged the toe of her left shoe over the floorboards with an innocent expression.
    Dubois sighed. ‘If you are dead set on doing something, don’t do it alone. At least promise me that, huh?’
    Alkmene leaned back on her heels, still not affirming anything. She sensed Dubois was getting antsy about her reluctance to promise she was dropping it. She might gain something here. ‘I am just so bored every single day alone, while my father is away. I could do with something…useful to pursue. Now you are after the killer of this Silas Norwhich. I wanted to get him, but I don’t have the connections or resources you do. I can do nothing but…get myself in trouble because I don’t know what is good for me.’
    Dubois’s mouth jerked as if he had to laugh at her meek little act, but suppressed it.
    He said, ‘You are riling me, right? You don’t think my connections or resources mean anything.’
    â€˜They do. You found the person who dropped the fare there that night. Now we know from two different witnesses that there was a late visitor. The killer or otherwise the last person to see Silas Norwhich alive. That is great. I couldn’t have done that. And you knew the man who determined for us that the brooch came from Saint Petersburg. I mean, Leningrad. Again, I would not have known how to establish that.’
    Dubois looked her over. ‘You do have connections of your own. I want to talk to Oksana Matejevna to find out why she asked about Evelyn Steinbeck at the Metropolitan. But I need an excuse to do so. I have decided I will use the brooch. I will ask Oksana if she knows of any Russian acquaintances of the countess who own such a thing. Now if I go there and ring the bell, asking for Oksana, I will be shooed away. But you can ask for her freely and will be admitted on the basis of your title alone. We could go together.’
    Alkmene felt excitement rush through her veins, but she tried to sound doubtful. ‘And once we know whose brooch it is, you will discard me again?’
    Dubois sighed. ‘No, you can come along then too. Provided you leave that here for dinner.’ He pointed at the wrapped fish.
    Alkmene had to laugh at