We all sat quietly for a time when Emerald finished. I finally asked if she’d been in touch with Troy Hempel in Chicago—I hadn’t heard from him.

“Oh, yes. I assured them that your work was essential for allowing August and me to come out of hiding. I don’t know how long we could have stayed in the library basement before someone found us—thankfully it was you who alerted Phyllis to the danger of the lights we were showing. I’ve instructed Troy to pay you for your work. You’ve earned your fee.”

Emerald was Doris McKinnon’s heir. She had decided to remain in Lawrence, at least while she wrapped up the sale of the McKinnon farm. August was going to stay with her, to finish making his video about her life.

60
Fairy Tales

My convalescence was slowed by an e-mail from Jake, a long-distance breakup letter.

I love you, V.I., but you don’t love yourself enough to stay away from danger. I can’t continue like this, not knowing if you will live or die. I tried to persuade you to come with me to Switzerland, to start a new kind of life, but you seem to want to keep falling off cliffs without a safety net. I don’t have the stamina anymore for watching you do it.

While I was crying to myself in my hospital bed, Colonel Baggetto swept into the room. He was in uniform, all his medals in place, a junior officer at his rear.

Sandy Heinz followed him, took a look at me, and drew the curtains around the bed so that she could wash the tearstains from my face. She combed my dirty hair and brought me a sweater to put on over my hospital gown before she let Baggetto talk to me.

Jake’s e-mail had left me at my most belligerent. “What’s that West Point motto they show in all the corny war movies—‘Duty, Honor, Country’? What duty were you fulfilling in betraying your country? And do you think you did it with honor?”

Baggetto pulled a chair over.

“You do not have my permission to sit,” I snapped. “You nearly murdered me, you very nearly murdered Sonia Kiel and Cady Perec, and the deaths of Doris McKinnon, Magda Spirova, and Dr. Francis Roque can surely be traced to you. You should be facing a court-martial and a criminal inquiry instead of jangling your medals in my face.”

“I know what this looks like, Ms. Warshawski,” Baggetto said. “Let me have five minutes to explain.”

“‘Once upon a time.’” I scowled. “That’s how all fairy tales begin.”