“I’ll call Steve. I don’t need taking care of.”

“Don’t worry.” Mary knew Bennie would say that. “I got your back.”

“I’m counting on that, DiNunzio.” Bennie smiled. “I don’t say it enough, but I really do appreciate you.”

“Back at you.” Mary turned and left, before she got choked up or otherwise leaked estrogen. It was as if she was seeing her boss with new eyes, understanding her not as a superior, but as another woman.

And on the walk back to her office, she felt, for the first time, that she and Bennie could be partners.

Bennie opened her eyes into pitch blackness. The vision was gone. Her mother had vanished. The good feeling had evaporated. She wasn’t sure if she was alive or dead. She felt sick, broken, confused, like she was falling to pieces, her very self shattering and splintering, the center flying apart. There was no sound. The blackness around her was as empty as space. She would have imagined she was floating but for the pain in her body and the stench that brought her back to earth.

She moved her hands, and they hit something hard. She moaned. She was alive and back inside the box. She felt for the wood sides, and they were still there. She was dizzy and faint. Her chest heaved, and a weird sound came out of her, emitted from starved lungs, and she was hiccupping, then spasming until she finally got a breath.

She had to get out of here. She had to save her own life. She slammed the lid with her palm, but it felt different. She raked it with her fingertips and touched something new. There was a ridge in the wood of the lid, that hadn’t been there before.

She ran her index finger along the line, tracing it like a route on a map, her sense of touch more acute because of the dark, the pain in her raw finger making it more sensitive. The lid now had a definite crack, running lengthwise, maybe from the shaking. She started banging on it with all her might, and she didn’t stop, even when the scratching noise started again.

Alice kicked off her sandals, crossed her legs, and took a sip of Diet Coke, which she had with a turkey sandwich from the office refrigerator. Things were going better than she expected, and she could see Mary would be a useful ally. The associate had such an obvious girl crush on Bennie that she could be made to do anything. Mary craved approval, so all Alice had to do to manipulate her was to give her some, but a little at a time. Even now the girl was slaving away on the brief that they’d never need, because Bennie was probably dead by now.

Alice picked up Bennie’s phone, skimmed the address list for Building Security, and pressed CALL, which was answered immediately, “Front desk. Hey, Bennie.”

“Hi, Steve.” Alice remembered how Mary had said the name. “My twin Alice Connelly might come around the office, sometime in the next few days. Let me know if she shows up, would you?”

“Mary already told me, and I sent an email to the guys, and if we see her, we’ll call. Too bad Lou’s on vacation.”

“I know, right?” Alice guessed he meant Lou Jacobs, the firm’s investigator, whom she remembered from the trial. Good thing he was out of town, because she didn’t need another problem. “Okay, I gotta go.”

“You worry about the law, and let us worry about the order.” Steve laughed, then they hung up.

Now it was time to set her plan in motion. She hit a key on Bennie’s laptop, and it came to life, asking for the password. She took a quick look at the Rolodex card in her bag, found the right password under Office Laptop, and opened Bennie’s email. She remembered the name of Bennie’s private banker at USABank, Marla Stone, which she’d come across in the email last night, so she clicked CREATE EMAIL and typed in the first few letters. The program filled in the rest of the email address, and she typed EMERGENCY, CONFIDENTIAL in the re line and continued:

Dear Marla, We have an emergency situation. My identical twin, Alice Connelly, has quit her job, stolen money, and may try to impersonate me in order to withdraw money from my accounts when the bank opens on Monday. Of course, she has none of my ID or authority. I want my money transferred immediately to an offshore bank, to preempt any misdeeds. Give me a call on my cell as soon as you get this email. Thank you. Best, Bennie

She proofread the email, clicked SEND, and counted down five, four, three, two, one, then the cell phone rang. She picked it up, checking the display. “Marla?”

“Bennie, I got your email. I’m calling from my cell. Goodness, this is bad news, and I assure you that in Wealth Development, our paramount concern is your security and privacy. We would never permit any unauthorized withdrawals from your accounts.”

“I wanted to stay ahead of the curve on this. Prepare for the worst and all that.”

“Of course, you must!” Marla cleared her throat. “We should transfer your funds to a new temporary account we’ll open for you with one of our offshore partners. This way, USABank retains you as a client, until this bad patch is over. We work with the best banks in the Caymans, Singapore, Belize, Andorra, and the Bahamas. This will be easy and quick, too. It’s not as if you’re seeking to avoid taxes.”

Not yet. “So where should we send the money?”

“I favor the Bahamas, since there’s been trouble with bank closures in the Caymans, of late. I use Swiss and other European banks when a client has a child in boarding school, for example, in Scotland or at the Sorbonne.”

“Could I withdraw from the Bahamas account, as I wish? I have a business to run.”

“Yes, easily. You can authorize withdrawals just as you do now, by phone or by calling me and following up with an email or letter, or online. They’d set you up with an online password, too, if you wish. How does that sound?”

Like three million bucks. “Perfect.”

“I’ll get in touch with the lawyer we use, and he can set that up for you on Monday, when the Bahamas bank is open. Our partner is BSB bank, in Nassau. On Monday, I’ll messenger you the paperwork and the signature cards to open the account.”

“You can’t do it today?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’m in New York today with my family, and the office is closed.”

“Understood. How long will this take?”

“Three business days. BSB won’t be able to let you use the account until they receive the signature cards with your original signature, but they can open the account as soon as you fax or scan them to me. So I’ll send you the cards, and you messenger them back to me. I’ll overnight them to Nassau on Tuesday, and BSB will get them on Wednesday. The account will be ready for use first thing Wednesday morning.”

“I’d like this done sooner. What if I sent the signature cards to the BSB directly? Then couldn’t it open the account a day earlier, on Tuesday morning?”

“Why, yes. I suppose that’s more efficient.” Marla sounded disappointed at being left out of the loop. “When I send you the cards, I’ll include a DHL package addressed and ready to go. We’ll wire your funds into the new account as soon as you scan or fax me the signature cards, and you’ll be official first thing Tuesday morning.”

“Great, thanks.”

“My pleasure. Will there be anything else?”

“Not at all. Thanks again.” Alice hung up, pleased. All she had to do was play Bennie on Monday and she could be on a plane to Nassau Monday night. She could pull it off, especially for one business day. She had para legal training, and she was a scam artist, which was a lawyer without the student loans.

She skimmed Bennie’s Filofax, and saw that other than Rexco, there were no meetings, depositions, or other proceedings scheduled for Monday. Alice would sit behind the desk, move papers around, and duck most of the phone calls. She’d have to go through with the Rexco meeting, but it shouldn’t be too hard to get up to speed. There would be a case file, and she had read plenty of those. She had drafted pleadings, briefs, and done legal research. Hell, people faked being doctors, and this wasn’t brain surgery.