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will soon be making important decisions, choices that will be influenced by the ring, by its history. There is much danger.”
    “Holy cow!” Dixie gasped.
    “This woman!” Helena’s eyes were ablaze, a trembling finger crooked at Dixie. “She is part of this danger, but also the solution. You must keep her close. But not too close. Do not tell her all or you will lose all.” Of course, what had she said other than the girlfriend might or might not have something to do with whatever it was that might or might not happen? Theater, palmist style.
    Helena smiled gently, pleased with herself. Was she a smokin’ hot palmist or what? These two were about ready to keel over. She’d earned her fee. Best not to risk a repeat visit from these customers. With a gasp and a low moan, Helena slumped and fell from her chair to the soft carpet.
    Dixie lurched to Helena’s side. “My goodness! Robbie, call 911!”
    Helena awoke suddenly. “No! No! I will be all right. It is you who must beware! The vibrations, they were very strong … the child … the ring … I cannot see any more tonight. You must go! That will be sixty dollars, please.”
    Robert and Dixie paid and left.
    In the cab, Dixie was beside herself.
    “Robbie, where did you get that ring?”
    “I told you, it is a family ring. I don’t know its history.”
    “Like Helena said, I do not think you’re telling me everything.” Of course, this was true. What man actually tells a woman all ? “You have to get rid of it!”
    Grant laughed, unconvincingly. “She was very good, that palmist woman—but Dixie, darling, that was acting. You do not really think…”
    “She knew about Purity, about what a thorn she is in your side. How did she know about that?”
    “Dix, she could have guessed, I do not know, but it’s an act. A good one … but that’s how they stay in business. Believe me, you’re getting too worked up about this.”
    Grant did not manage to bed Dixie that night; she was too upset by Helena. He went home and drank Scotch from a decanter, and then slept … but not well.

CHAPTER
    SEVEN
    NO, I DID NOT BRING Nancy back to my hotel.
    She brought me back to her apartment. To be brutally honest, the evening was not all that I had hoped. Believe it or not, once I was naked, all she wanted to do was pose me. Yes, like a statue, and while I stood there naked she danced to flute music. This unsatisfactory perversion was new to me. Perhaps worse, even when I did kiss her, she did so with her teeth closed. Have you ever heard of anything so infuriating? Nancy was one of these overly coy women you hear about that frustrate men to the brink of insanity. She kept calling me her muse. I am not even sure what “muse” means. Anyway, I came up with the idea of her posing naked with me so I could have a better shot at moving things along toward the bed. No success. I finally succumbed to the nebbiolo, dove into her bed, and slept. The new day found Nancy still dancing to flute music in the living room. I think she may have been on drugs of some sort, but I cannot say for sure. Her muse managed to slip out unnoticed.
    Which was why I was late the next morning in my holy mission. I had to go back to my hotel first and put on a fresh suit and, of course, pick up the humidor with the finger inside.
    I entered the glass tower of Grant Industries on Sixth Avenue at 11:30 A.M. I left at 11:40 A.M. The large guard told me nobody is even allowed beyond the lobby without an appointment. So he lent me his phone, and I called up to the offices and was told that Mr. Grant was in meetings all day. When they asked my business, I told them I was La Paz gentry, and that I came at the behest of the Catholic Diocese of Guadalupe, on business of a personal nature. She said that I should call back later and they would see if they could schedule me.
    My first attempt had not gone as well as I hoped it might.
    On the street, I turned the corner and went into an inexpensive