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of the mirror as she applied her make-up, practicing a sad expression she could use when she met Junior and his siblings. She added some darker shades under her eyes to make it look like she had not slept well, though the truth was she had slept soundly despite her growing excitement at how large her share of Thurwell’s money might be.
    She teased her hair one last time and stood straight, turning a quarter turn to the left to admire her tailored suit. She looked just right, businesslike and professional but with an air of mourning about her, attractive but not glamorous. Smith stepped out of the room, closed her door quietly and stood still for a moment.
    A few soft coughs, water running and a flushing toilet were the noises of morning she heard. The mansion, for all its luxury, was like any hotel. She walked toward the grand staircase, looking forward to a healthy breakfast. Only at the last moment did she remember to suppress the spring in her step.
    $
    Dennis Elliot looked outside and watched the snow. Janice was still sleeping, but he had been awake for over an hour. He knew he should wake her, but figured a few more moments of peace wouldn’t hurt, so he sat on the window ledge with his head against the cool glass and stared into the storm. He drew meaningless shapes with his fingertip in the fog his breath made on the glass. He was sad that Mr. Thurwell was dead. He had known the Old Man for a long time. He had been a good boss. He was more than relieved to know he and Janice would share some money.
    Mr. Thurwell had always promised he’d take care of Dennis, and he had kept that promise, though the manservant was surprised to be included with the family. His wife stirred in the bed, and he sighed. She’d soon be telling him what to do, what to say and what to think. Jeremy had offered them separate rooms, but Janice had insisted they occupy only one, much to Dennis’s annoyance. She won’t let me out of her sight for one Goddamn minute , he thought.
    There had been no love in their marriage for a long time. After the wedding, Janice had quickly taken control of Dennis and never eased her grip. She had killed what small independence he had possessed with the sole exception of his Tuesdays off. He had begged Mr. Thurwell not to give his servants a common day off, which had been granted with some disapproval from the Old Man and great rancor by Janice. However, it gave Dennis one whole day to himself and Tuesdays became the only respite he could look forward to.
    He had taken to spending his day off at the track in the summer, or the OTB in the winter, betting on any tracks that offered a card. The habit had cost him most of his savings, but his problem in recent weeks had been increased pressure to pay off his bookie. Dennis owed an unforgiving man too much money and was uncertain what to do because his diminished savings didn’t cover what he owed. It was convenient timing to come into money. Not that he meant Mr. Thurwell any ill will, but his death was well timed to solve Dennis’ troubles.
    He looked up and saw his wife’s accusing eye appraising him from across the room. Her mouth opened for the day’s first volley of invective. Perhaps I can even afford a divorce , he thought, as he stood and offered his wife a thin, beaten smile.
    $
    Philip Thurwell jumped out of bed and began restlessly pacing his room. He hated being cooped up inside the mansion. At 6.30, he climbed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and jogged to the gymnasium, one floor below. He was surprised to find the gym occupied. Larry MacLean pounded the rolling road, the sheen of sweat on his body suggested he had been running for a while. Philip nodded a greeting to his ‘uncle’ but said nothing. He liked his father’s friend well enough, but they had exchanged some angry words at their last meeting and Philip was still sore about it.
    Larry nodded his own greeting and maintained the easy pace of an experienced runner. It was his habit