"Of course," he said.

"Come in."

He held the door open and she followed.

She was apparently struck by the condition of the office. Blackened walls, packing crates, the scent of smoke even stronger now.

Blackened furniture had been shoved against sooted walls.

"I should explain" he said. He did, about the fire.

"Your offices are relocating?" she asked.

"In a sense," he said. He led her to the one room in the suite that was presentable and functional. He removed two crates of papers from the top of his desk. He avoided mention of his intention to leave the practice of law. He'd listen to her and guide her on to someone else who might be able to help.

She sat down in a hard-backed wooden chair near his desk, attempting to sit comfortably on what was essentially a rigid and uncomfortable chair.

"I don't know whether you'll be able to a.s.sist me or not" she said.

She glanced around and began to sense the moribund state of the office.

He was now aware of her slight English accent.

"You might not even believe me. And you might be too busy moving."

"It doesn't take much s.p.a.ce to listen to a problem," he said.

"I suppose not," she said. She eyed him carefully, deciding whether or not to go on. But he did sound sincere. And this was the firm mentioned in the newspapers.

"I read last week that a woman named Victoria Sandler had died" she said. "The article stated that this firm once handled the Sandler family's business' "At one time," he said. Thomas mentally pictured Andrea, who'd written the Times article which other newspapers had picked up.

"Victoria had a brother. Arthur Sandler. Born in 1899."

"That's right' he said. He began to wonder where this might lead and whether or not it would be worthwhile to be led. He studied her.

The English accent was more noticeable now. She was well spoken Educated. Her clothing conservative, yet flattering to her lithe figure. A navy-blue suit hemmed below the knee. A light-blue print blouse and a carefully knotted pale-blue scarf The camel'shair coat was now across her lap as she sat with her ankles slightly crossed.

"How much do you know about Arthur Sandler?" she asked.

"Not an awful lot. It was my father and Mr. Zenger who knew him personally. Before his death, that is. 1954, wasn't it?"

"No," she said.

"It wasn't' "Wasn't what?"

'1954. The newspapers said that he was a murder victim. Some sort of street execution."

"That's right" -"That's not right. He was alive past 1954. Well past 1954." She spoke calmly and methodically.

He leaned back in the chair. He folded his arms and looked at her in a new light. He wondered if she might not be better served at Bellevue than his office.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"It's a long story."

"I'm sure it is' "I'm prepared to tell it if you're willing to listen."

He made no comment. He only looked at her, trying to a.s.sess her grip on reality.

"He wasn't killed in 1954. I don't know who was, but it wasn't he."

"You've seen him since?"

" his 'death' in 1954" she said.

"And then again in 1964 "Uh huh," he said.

"That's very nice. Did you come here to warn me?"

She looked up from her lap into his eyes. Her blue eyes, formerly soft and warm, were now sharp and intense, wide with emotion, almost with fear.

"I'm not a crazy lady," she said.

"I didn't come here to be patronized." She paused.

"Arthur Sandler was my father."

He considered the a.s.sertion for only a second.

"I see. Was he married to your mother?"

"Of course. During the war."

"War?"

"World War Two."

"Arthur Sandler was never married" he said.

"And when he died in 1954 it was established legally that he had no children, legitimate or otherwise. His estate went in its entirety to Victoria, who-" She tossed a folded paper from her purse onto his desk.

.-was the sole inheritor," he finished. He picked up the paper.

"What's this?"

"I a.s.sume you can read." He opened it and examined it. She spoke as he read.

"It's my birth certificate. I was born at Exeter in England in 1945.

See for yourself." The doc.u.ment had the appearance of what she claimed.

"The marriage was a secret," she added.