Without warning, she kicked the cane out from under him. A karate chop to his shoulders dropped him to the floor. His bad knee screamed in protest as he hit the carpet. He clutched the injured joint.

“Of course,” she added, “sometimes exceptions have to be made.”

With a move worthy of an Olympic gymnast, she vaulted onto the bureau, taking the pearls with her. A high window provided a ready egress. “Good night, Mr. Wayne,” she said teasingly, before flipping backward out the window. Bruce heard her touch down lightly in the gardens outside.

Gathering himself, he chuckled, amused by the woman’s nerve. Ignoring the usual aches and twinges, he rocked forward on his good leg and rose smoothly to his feet. But his brow furrowed as he took a closer look at the violated safe.

Was that powder on the door?

Fun’s fun, she thought, but let’s not overstay our welcome.

The party was starting to break up. Having made her escape from the building, she wasted no time heading for the line of town cars waiting in the driveway. Along the way, she deftly peeled off her servile white apron, cuffs, and collar, discarding those previously handy bits of camouflage in various leafy mounds of shrubbery.

By the time she reached the drive, what the valets saw was a breathtaking young woman wearing a little black dress and pearls. One of the young men rushed forward to assist her.

She quickly scanned the row of limos and found just the one she was looking for. She pointed it out to the valet, who obligingly opened the door for her. Thanking him, she slid into the car beside Congressman Gilly, who looked both startled and delighted by her unexpected entrance. Exactly as she had planned from the moment they had met.

“Can I have a ride?” she purred.

He leered at her like she was just another tasty morsel for his consumption. Deep in his cups, he slurred his response.

“You read my mind.”

The car pulled away from the house and toward the front gate.

Alfred found Bruce kneeling before the hidden safe, his cane lying on the floor a few feet away. The butler wondered what his troubled employer was looking for.

“Miss Tate was asking to see you again,” he said.

Bruce did not look up from the safe.

“She’s very persistent.”

“And quite lovely,” Alfred observed. “In case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

Alfred sighed. It was precisely the response he had anticipated. I’m sorry, Miss Tate, he thought. I tried.

His obligation to Miranda Tate discharged, albeit to no avail, he turned his attention to his employer’s current preoccupation.

“What are you doing?”

“Examining print dust,” Bruce said tersely. “We’ve been robbed.”

Alfred was startled by the news. Wayne Manor’s security was state-of-the-art, and then some. They had never been burgled before.

“And this is your idea of raising the alarm?” he asked. Wayne just shrugged.

“She took the pearls,” he answered. “Tracking device and all.”