My father blinked at his wife, suddenly uncertain about how much the ground was shifting under his feet. “Murder?” He glanced at me. “Sorry, Theo, but you don’t have a shred of evidence about Mirelle. None of you have anything you can prove. Klaus would never testify against me. I’ve always kept my hands clean. The men who work for me are well paid for their silence.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” Juliet said. “We have Mother’s body.”

“You have no such thing.” My father was eerily confident, as certain as if he’d buried her himself. For all I knew, he had.

“Pardon me—what I meant to say is that we have Mother’s body double,” Juliet said.

My father’s face was ashen as he turned to look at Ursula. “You wouldn’t.”

“I did what you ordered me to do,” Ursula said. “I flew to New York, dyed my hair black, and packed a couple of suitcases full of your dead wife’s clothes. Then I flew to Guam and hid in a hotel there for three months so you could have an easy divorce that stayed out of the spotlight. A fake divorce, which seemed appropriate for a man who is such a fraud in every aspect of his life.”

I was watching out the window for the NYPD, and two vehicles pulled up at the time we’d agreed. “Look, it’s the police,” I said. “This part will be amusing.”

My father’s head swiveled. “They can’t arrest me. They don’t have a warrant. They don’t have jurisdiction. They don’t have—”

“Shhh,” I said. “It’s not your turn. Yet.”

We watched in silence as they banged on the door of my father’s house and poured inside. They knew Harris was ex-military and had guns, which made him a serious threat. But his takedown was surprisingly peaceful. He exited with his hands cuffed behind his back, his bald head bowed low.

“What are they arresting him for?” my father cried. “He had nothing to do with your mother! He didn’t even work for me then!”

I thought about telling him that the case of Mirelle’s death had never been closed by the Berlin police and that Mehmet Badem had confessed to his part in a sworn statement. I had no doubt that Harris had committed no end of illegal acts on my father’s behalf and that he would never see justice for most of them. But he would be spending his upcoming years in a jail cell, and that was important. I would’ve worried about Ursula’s safety if Harris were free.

My father looked shell-shocked when he turned away from the window. “You can’t do this.”

“Your reckoning has been long overdue,” Juliet said.

“None of you would have anything without me!” My father’s face twisted like a gargoyle’s as he shouted in impotent rage.