Spencer had lain down for a nap on Libby's sofa after his long trip. Now that he was in Switzerland, he was not quite sure of his next move. The impostor had paid him well for the four months he'd been employed as...what? Butler? Bodyguard? Did it matter? It had really been for nothing except that the impostor had truly made everyone believe he was the one and only Schuyler Whitney...and that Schuyler Whitney was a paranoid angry wife-slapping murderer. Wife-slapping and butler-slapping, that night when Gavin Wylie fled from the mansion. Spencer had nearly quit and slapped him right back, but he had been there only a short time.
He recalled the recent articles about Gunther's murder, and about Gunther himself. He had not liked the man much while working for the Bowies. He let a small smile escape thinking about Mrs. Bowie before returning his thoughts to Gunther. It was a puzzle to him still. Gunther had been a jokester and a bully at times, but he never did anything a punch in the nose wouldn't fix, nothing that necessitated murder.
His thoughts were interrupted by a low moan from the bedroom. He got up slowly and walked to see Raven experiencing what seemed to be a nightmare. He wondered about her, what she was like before she hooked up with the impostor. He had done some research before coming to Monticello. She had been married twice, the more recent union being to the former district attorney. He'd read about the nasty custody battle over their son, Raven supplying the nastiness. Spencer wondered if the impostor was Karma coming back to her.
Raven began to writhe. "No, no! Please, Sky, help me! Don't, don't do it, I love you! No!!!"
Spencer frowned in concern and slowly backed away. He still wondered what to do next. Chasing the impostor wasn't practical since he had no leads on his location. For the time being, he felt helpless.
Geraldine Saxon had not had more than two hours' sleep for over a week. Fretting over Raven and Sky was taking its toll on her. Sitting in her office and going over news stories was not helping, but Nicole was experiencing difficulties at home, and Nora Fulton seemed to be part of those problems. She wished she could fire the young bitch, but that was really up to Nicole.
Her tired thoughts were interrupted by the phone. "Yes?"
"Mrs. Saxon? It's Derek Mallory."
"Yes, Derek!" She brightened up somewhat. There was a small lilt to Mallory's voice that was a welcome relief.
"I wanted to let you know there was a break-in at the mansion two nights ago."
Her eyebrows went up. "Again?"
"Exactly. Spencer winged him just enough to stop the burglar. I know I should be telling your nephew this, but we can't seem to find him."
"Spencer did what?"
"He winged- er, shot him just to wound him."
"How awful! I never liked the idea of him being armed."
"It was all legal."
"Still, I will talk about this with Spencer."
"He left town, actually."
"Strange."
"He gave a statement before leaving. Anyway, we learned a few things about the burglar. He's a young up-and-coming gangster from Detroit."
"That doesn't explain his presence at the mansion."
"No, but it gets stranger. His attorney came from Detroit personally to bail him out. Detective Stoner overheard part of their conversation at Sid's Tavern after they left the jail. Apparently the young hood was coming to kidnap your nephew."
"What?!"
"Yes, it is strange. Here's the big part, someone wanted your nephew to tell them where a man named Brown was."
"Brown?"
"Right. From my talks with Damian Tyler, I can only come up with one Brown."
"Jefferson Brown."
"It's only a guess, but it makes sense given what little we know."
Geraldine shook her head. "I can only think about Sky and Raven right now."
"Mrs. Saxon, I know he's your nephew, but right now I'd put more thought into praying that Raven is all right. We still cannot find her."
"All right. Keep me posted, Derek."
Damian Tyler sat with Sky Whitney in his hospital room. He had to admit, talking to this man was a pleasure, and he was learning a lot about the Whitney family history. Stories about his cousins Colin and Keith were riveting. Learning about Geraldine in the old days was interesting, she sounded colder and more domineering when she was younger.
Damian decided to press a bit after getting a past Whitney earful. "What can you tell me about your time in Switzerland before the plane crash?"
"Oh, let's see. I chased women a lot, did a lot of skiing. Some business here and there."
"Sounds like a fun life."
"It was. It was going to get more fun when I got my full fortune. But that never happened."
"Because of the plane crash?"
"Because of the crash, yes. Just thinking about it gives me a headache."
Damian nodded. "I can understand that. What can you tell me about Jeff Brown?"
"Jeff Brown? He was a friend...well, more of a tagalong companion. I met him in a tavern, he looked down on his luck. After talking to him over a drink, I asked if he wanted to join me on the slopes. I paid, of course."
"He had no money?"
"No, nothing of significance, he couldn't even afford a single hotel room."
"So you skiied together?"
"Yes, and as time went on, he tagged along on every excursion. I tell you, if he weren't so funny, I would have left him in that bar."
"He had a sense of humor?"
"Lots of jokes, lots of little games about intrigue and passwords. Strange man, actually."
Damian smiled. "Sounds like it. You know, I saw your impostor for the first time briefly about 2 years ago in a Paris mansion he rented."
"Oh?"
"Yes, I was looking to talk to him about Jeff Brown but I never got the chance."
"Why did you want to talk to him about Jeff?"
Damian's face darkened. "Jeff Brown worked for the State Department before you met him, specifically he worked for my father. My father had been accused of stealing or losing important security documents. It was too much for him along with losing my mother and he ended up committing suicide. Jeff Brown slipped quietly away right after that."
"I see. When he he disappear?"
"About late 1977, early 1978."
Sky nodded. "I met him March of 1978."
At that moment, Isler appeared. "Herr Tyler, your Mr. Scott called."
"And?"
"He said he can speak only to you."
Jefferson Brown hid in a corner of the Parisian tavern, his face partially hidden by a scarf. He was feeling like Richard Kimble, panicking whenever he saw a cop. This couldn't continue much longer. Monticello was out forever, so was Paris. He could hide in Switzerland, he supposed, he had the money. But that would get old, and it wasn't living.
At the moment a life in Russia sounded pretty good. All he had to do was find a way to sneak into Monticello and get into his safe deposit box. The coded diary was in it. He remembered talking through his bandages to some Englishman, a spy, not quite James Bond calibre...what was his name? Devereaux! Ian Devereaux! Whoever got that disk would need to unlock it and he'd provide the key for it to the Soviets. But how to slip in and out of Monticello?
Spencer heard her again. This time he walked up to her and placed a dry cloth on her sweating forehead.
Raven moaned with a smile. "Sky?"
"No, Mrs. Whitney, it's Spencer."
Her eyes opened. "Spencer? Where am I?"
"In a room, recovering. You took a bad fall."
"Why can't I see?"
"I don't know. A friend found you in the snow and brought you here."
"I fell...yes, I fell on my skis. I knew that slope would be too tough for me."
"Do you remember anything after that?"
"No...you said a friend brought me here."
"Yes."
"A friend of mine?"
"No, of mine."
Raven hesitated. "Spencer, where's Mr. Whitney?"
"The world is wondering the same thing. He disappeared."
"No! That's impossible. He wouldn't leave me."
Spencer shrugged. There was no point in being coy anymore. "I have some things to tell you, and you won't like them."
"Why are my arms tied up?"
"They're broken, and I think I prefer you stay tied after I tell my story."
"Spencer! What's going on?!" Raven shouted.
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