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At two a.m. New York time, the telephone beside Eva Beckman Winthrop's bed began to ring.
Eva sat up, turned on her reading lamp, and reached for it.
"Hello?" she said.
"Mrs. Winthrop? It's Harry Thurston. I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but—"
"Do you have any idea what time it is, Mr. Thurston?"
"As I said, I'm sorry, but this is important."
"It had better be," Eva said sharply.
Harry Thurston cleared his throat. "Actually, I'd like to speak with Hoyt. If you'd put him on the phone, please...?"
As if on cue, the door connecting the Winthrop's bedrooms opened. Hoyt stood in the doorway, blinking in the glare of the light.
"Darling?" he said. "Is something wrong?"
"Hold on," Eva snapped into the phone. She put her hand over the receiver. "Go back to sleep, Hoyt."
"Who's that on the phone?"
"It's one of my West coast distributors," she said, forcing a smile. "There's a problem with a shipment. Los Angeles was expecting Swallowtail Red lipstick and they've received Monarch Pink instead."
"And they called you?" Hoyt said indignantly. "Do they know the time?"
Eva nodded, determinedly ignoring Harry Thurston's voice in her ear.
"Apparently, they forget the time change. It's ridiculous, I know, but as long as they've called, I might as well sort out the problem."
"Shall I get you something, my dear? Do you need a notepad, perhaps?"
"No," Eva said. She took a deep breath and smiled again. "No, thank you, Hoyt. You go on back to bed."
"Well, if you insist..."
"I do. Just shut the door after you, please." She laughed gaily. "I may have to raise my voice to these people and I wouldn't want to keep you awake."
Hoyt smiled and went back into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Eva waited a few seconds and then the smile fell from her lips.
"Now," she said into the telephone, "what is the reason for this call, Mr. Thurston? Does it have to do with the note I received today?"
Harry Thurston hesitated. "Perhaps you didn't understand me, Mrs. Winthrop. I should like to speak with your husband."
"Hoyt is asleep," Eva said briskly. "How may I help you?"'
"Mrs. Winthrop, I really think I should talk with Hoyt."
"I don't agree. The note in question, both notes, in point of fact, were addressed to me."
Harry sighed. Conor O'Neil and Eva Winthrop, all in one day. How lucky could one man get?
"Very well," he said. "I'll get straight to the point."
"Please do."
"Your daughter has also received a note."
