Startled, Julia nodded. “I asked Godfrey to keep it to himself for a while, but obviously he didn’t.”

“Oh, Godfrey told me everything,” Andrea said. “He was my biggest client, you know.”

Had Godfrey really told her everything, I wondered? Did Andrea know about the ghostwriter?

“I’m not surprised,” I said. “Godfrey made millions.”

“He sure did.” Andrea’s smile was smug. “No complaints there.” She cocked her head to one side, thinking about something. “But you know, the old windbag did have a point about something.”

“What was that?” I said, though I knew what she meant.

“The bit about Godfrey’s treatment of women in the books,” Andrea replied. “That always bothered me, because Godfrey liked women. No doubt about that. I never could figure out why the tone of the books was so antifemale.”

“Did you ever ask him about it?” Julia seemed intrigued by the question, too.

“I did, early on,” Andrea said. “I wasn’t his agent for his first few books. I took him on on the strength of Count the Cost, his first bestseller.” She frowned. “I went back and read one of his earlier books, and the tone was very different.”

“What was Godfrey’s response when you asked him about it?” I said to get her back to the point.

“He just shrugged and said that was the way the book came out. He claimed most thrillers were like that anyway, so why should his be different?”

“And that made sense to you?” Julia didn’t sound convinced.

“As much as anything else,” Andrea said. “Frankly, he started making so much money for both of us, I didn’t really care.”

I decided to risk a question. “Did you ever think someone else might have written the books? I mean, because the tone was so different.”

Andrea laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Who else could have written them? Godfrey changed his style, that’s all. He wanted to break out and make serious money, and he did.”

She seemed sincere, and I thought Godfrey had kept his ghostwriter a secret from her, too. She was in for a rude shock, though.

Julia regarded me, obviously curious. She knew that I wouldn’t have asked such a question without a reason.

Before either of us could respond to Andrea’s last remark, she spoke again. “He made it after all.” She waved at someone.

Julia and I turned our heads to look. “Who is it?” I asked.

“The tall man in the suit there, talking to the deputy. You know who I mean, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Julia and I said in unison.

About twenty feet away Kanesha Berry was deep in conversation with a distinguished-looking man about sixty years old.

“Who is he?” Julia asked.