Goodbye, Janette by Harold Robbins Read Free Book Online Page A

years ago in England,” he said. “I was attached to GHQ as a liaison officer with the Free French forces. When the war was over and I decided to remain in Europe, the marquis was kind enough to offer me this job.”
    “I see.” She nodded thoughtfully then smiled. “That must have been a very good thing for the both of you.”
    “It was,” he said, feeling more at ease now and smiling. He turned once again, reaching for the doorknob.
    “Jerry.”
    He looked back at her, his hand still on the doorknob. “Yes, ma’am?”
    Her voice was artless. “How long have you and Maurice been lovers?”
    She saw the flush creep up into his face and his normally blue-gray eyes grow green with hatred. Then his lips tightened against his reply and he left the room abruptly, the door almost slamming shut behind him.
    She was seated at the small breakfast table near the window, sipping tea and reading the file when Maurice came into the room. She glanced up at him. “You could knock,” she said casually. “It’s the polite thing to do.”
    His face was flushed and angry. “Jerry told me that you said you wouldn’t sign the papers.”
    “Not until after I’d read them,” she said, her voice still casual. She glanced down at the file in her hand. “Now that I have, I won’t sign them at all.”
    “Everything was supposed to be transferred into the estate after we were married,” he said. “That was what Wolfgang said we were going to do.”
    “That’s what he said,” she agreed pleasantly.
    “Then do it,” he said.
    She shook her head. “No.”
    “You have to,” he said. “I have assumed many financial obligations based on that agreement.”
    “That’s unfortunate,” she said.
    “Even this house was bought on that assumption,” he said.
    “I notice that,” she said. “In your own name personally, but to be paid for out of Wolfgang’s companies with his moneys. I don’t think his intention was to enrich you at his own expense.”
    “Then you intend to keep it all,” he said balefully.
    “Until I hear from Wolfgang to the contrary.”
    “What if you never hear from him?”
    She shrugged her shoulders.
    “Under French law you’re liable for the money in any case,” he said.
    “I know that,” she said calmly. “But tomorrow I will get in touch with the
notaire
, and when he makes the necessary changes in the papers, I will make the payment.”
    “And what am I supposed to do?”
    “Just what we agreed on. You will be the director general of the companies. Manage them well and there’s no reason why you too cannot be rich.”
    “You won’t get away with it,” he said balefully. “You can be deported.”
    “And where will you be if you open that can of beans?” she asked with a faint smile. “Especially when I tell them of the circumstances that led to our marriage.”
    He stared at her without speaking.
    “You can go now,” she said calmly, dismissing him. “And on your way downstairs inform the butler that I will be ready to look at the rest of the house in a few minutes.”
    “Is there anything else Madame la Marquise wants me to do?” he asked sarcastically.
    “Yes,” she said. “Tell your boyfriend to get his things out of the house before dinner. You know how servants love to gossip. I don’t think it would be an especially nice thing to have them spreading the word all over Paris that Monsieur le Marquis is a pederast.”
    She waited until the door closed behind him, then went into the bathroom and opened her cosmetic case. She lifted the top shelf out and placed it on the marble countertop next to the sink. Quickly she emptied the jars of cream and lotion from the bottom of the case until the leather case resting on the bottom was revealed. Then she took the leather case and held it in her hand.
    The gold-tooled lettering shone at her.
W v B Schweringen
.
    She snapped open the case. The silver-steel razors gleamed. Seven of them. One for each day of the week. Labeled in